Beautiful Desert

Catching Up, part 1: Books

2010-03-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

Wow. Four whole months and not a single post. Not so much as a "hey, I'm really sorry, I have x, y, and z going on in my life right now." Nada. Zip. If somebody were to ask me why I couldn't even be bothered to put up a measely "temporary hiatus" notice I would have to respond in the immortal, if rather lame, words of Beatrix Kiddo: "I don't know... because I'm a bad person?"

But seriously, my main excuse for not writing is that I've been busy moving to Paris. And yes, I know, it's not like they don’t have the Internet here in Paris, but still. I’m not saying that moving here hasn’t had it’s perks, because it certainly has, but not everything has been a walk in the Luxembourg gardens if you know what I mean. But that’s a discussion for another day and another blog. The point I’m trying to make here is that not only has this relocation been a huge adjustment for me overall, it also means that some of the series I was following and writing about in the States aren't as readily available to me anymore. (And I was just starting to get hooked on Sarasah and The Name of the Flower!) I still haven't quite worked out how or if I'm going to continue them, since I don’t think I’ll be in Paris forever, but I decided to pick this blog back up again anyways, since I never seem to run out of random things to obsess over and I'd hate to think of what might happen if I didn't have some kind of outlet.

So before I return to writing more detailed reviews, I thought I’d briefly revisit some of the items I’ve had on backlog since last November. This will actually be quite like the summer summary I posted last August after recovering from surgery, in which I gave a mini-review of everything I hadn’t been posting about lately. This time the whole batch will be broken up into several posts, with the first one (this one) being all about books. So here goes: a condensed review of what I’ve been reading recently.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground (translation by Constance Garnett)

So I’d been meaning for a while to tackle the great gaping whole in my high school education that is nineteenth century Russian literature, but I was a little nervous about starting off with one of those famously epic and wildly intimidating thousand-page novels. So what better way to warm up than with a shorter novella written by one of the period’s most celebrated authors? Well, I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting from Notes from Underground but in the end I was completely blown away. By way of introducing the story, I’d like to pull a quote from the text itself:

Every man has reminiscences which he would not tell to every one, but only to his friends. He has other matters in his mind which he would not reveal even to his friends, but only to himself, and that in secret. But there are other things which a man is afraid to tell even to himself, and every decent man has a number of such things stored away in his mind. The more decent he is, the greater the number of such things in his mind.

Notes from Underground is the narrator’s confession of one such “reminiscence”, a confession made in old age and infirmary, made out of spite as much as from any moral or philosophical conviction. Although the first third of the book consists mostly in the narrator’s rambling internal monologue, Dostoevsky’s writing has the rare ability to pierce right into your heart, giving one the impression that the author has discovered your most intimate thoughts and feelings, even (perhaps especially) the ones you’re not very proud to own. And yet while you could also say all of that about Madame Bovary, for example, I found that Notes from Underground managed to retain, in spite of its cynicism, a sort of romantic beauty and wistfulness to which Flaubert’s book certainly never aspired. All these elements made for a very striking combination, and an engrossing read I’ll not soon forget. I’m not sure if any of this is making any sense, but I’m finding it quite difficult to articulate my impressions of the book. It really deserves so much more discussion than I’m affording it in this laundry-list of reviews. Before moving on to the next book, a few more quotes from Notes. What I think so impressed me about the book was that even the parts that didn’t make total sense seemed intimately familiar, perhaps because they were so universally human. I think the following quotes exemplify that a little bit. From the pages of Notes from Underground:

Man is a frivolous, incongruous creature, and perhaps, like a chess-player, loves the process of the game, not the end of it… He loves the process of attaining, but does not quite like to have attained, and that, of course, is very absurd.

But why am I made with such desires? Can I have been constructed simply in order to come to the conclusion that all my construction is a cheat? I do not believe it.

I hated his stupid but handsome face (for which I would, however, have gladly exchanged my intelligent one).

Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot (translated by Constance Garnett)

So after being so incredibly enamored with Notes from Underground I felt quite brave enough to attack one of his longer novels. I read [The Idiot] rather than the (perhaps more obvious) Crime and Punishment simply because I already had a copy; a friend had given me an old, tattered, paperback version many years ago and it had been sitting on my shelf ever since, just waiting to be read. And I have to admit that the novel caused me to fall a little bit out of love with Dostoevsky. I still think I genuinely admire and enjoy his work, but I don’t have as much of a crush on him as I did after finishing Notes from Underground. Essentially, The Idiot examines the question of what would happen when a truly pure and virtuous soul is thrust into the midst a humanly corrupt and degraded society. Reading this book was a very frustrating experience, because I cared so much about the fascinating main character, but in the end I don’t think the author did justice to his own creation and that’s something I have a hard time forgiving. Especially after reading a thousand pages of a story that really could have been told in less than half that amount. I also felt that the ambiguous, selective narration was a bit of a cop-out only rendered necessary by the excessive complexity sheer length of the story. On the other hand: I absolutely LOVED reading any scene with Lizaveta Prokofyevna, a truly delightful character whose personality quirks reminded me a lot of my own mother. From the pages of The Idiot:

There is something at the bottom of every new human thought… which can never be communicated to others, even if one were to write volumes about it and were explaining one’s idea for thirty-five years; there’s something left which cannot be induced to emerge from your brain, and remains with you forever; and with it you will die, without communicating to anyone, perhaps, the most important of your ideas.

Don’t let us forget that the causes of human actions are usually immeasurably more complex and varied than our subsequent explanations of them.

François Mauriac, Thérèse Desqueyroux

Coninuing with the theme of psychological novels we have Thérèse Desqueyroux In brief, this is not a happy book. A short, intriguing, psychological character study? Sure bet. Overly melancholic? Perhaps just a bit. It tells the story of a woman who cannot escape from her unhappy marriage even after she’s caught trying to poison her husband. In order to preserve their reputations, both sides of the family decide to keep her as a prisoner in her own home. Believe me, it’s not as melodramatic gothic as it sounds; it’s actually a quite sensitive psychological study, and rather subtle in some of it’s finer points. Throughout the story, which is told out of chronological order, it becomes less and less clear who is the real monster and who is the victim: Thérèse or her husband. In spite of its depressing nature (there were plenty of internal monologues about loneliness and despondency), I really enjoyed the way the unique and clever way this story was constructed. It was short enough that the heaviness didn’t really get me down, and there were enough twists to keep me interested. All in all, I’d definitely recommend this to any francophone readers out there. From the pages of Thérèse Desqueyroux :

Rien ne peut arriver de pire que cette indifférence, que ce détachement total qui la sépare du monde et de son être même. Oui, la mort dans la vie : elle goute la mort autant que la peut gouter une vivante.

Sa solitude lui est attachée plus étroitement qu’aux lépreux son ulcère.

Rien n’est vraiment grave pour les êtres incapables d’aimer.

Ok, that’s it for now. After all that I think I’m ready for something a little lighter next time. More short reviews coming up soon (I promise!).

A Touch of Dead, Grave Sight - Charlaine Harris' urbanfantasymystery realm

2009-11-21T07:59:00.000-08:00

In order to break up the year-long wait in between releases of the Sookie Stackhouse novels (the series of books by Charlaine Harris on which HBO's hit True Blood is based), I decided this fall to check out a couple of her other publications - one Sookie-related, the other not. And so in this post I'll be reviewing two different Harris books: A Touch of Dead, being an anthology of previously published short stories about the Sookie universe, and Grave Sight, the first in another of the authors' ongoing series. My thoughts below...

First off, A Touch of Dead. I knew that Harris had published a number of short stories from the Sookie-verse in various other anthologies, but the idea never really interested me enough to track them all down individually. Which is probably why A Touch of Dead is such a brilliant marketing ploy, especially since the series itself has become so popular among its genre. Someone like me, who's already a fan of the books, might not care about these peripheral side-stories enough to go out and buy five separate books in order to read them. Gathering them all together in a single Sookie collection, however, suddenly makes the deal a lot more tempting. Another thing that peaked my interest in this little publication was just the fact that I don't own a single one of the Sookie novels. Maybe I'm just a little OCD, but it seemed silly to buy a few of the books if I'm not going to invest in the complete series (and I'm not that hard-core of a Sookie fan). Thanks to libraries and friends, I had managed to avoid throwing down a single cent for my enjoyment of the Sookie series, and A Touch of Dead seemed like a nice little compromise. This way I could have some representation of the Sookie books in my personal collection without having to go all out or be totally random about it. Not to mention, I'd get to read all those short stories I'd been missing. So I bought the tiny, overpriced little book, and was pretty happy about it.

A Touch of Dead includes five separate stories that all feature Sookie herself in some capacity. (I believe there are other short stories that focus on other characters from the same universe, but which were not included in AToD.) In the first story, "Fairy Dust", the fairy twins Claudine and Claude recruit Sookie's telepathic abilities to help them discover who murdered their third sibling (they were actually triplets), Claudette. The funny thing is, Claudine doesn't exactly tell Sookie that's what they're up to when she invites her over. You can imagine poor Sookie's surprise when she show's up at their house and finds all the suspects bound and gagged in various nooks and crannies (one in the pantry, one in the cellar, etc). That's a lot for a girl to take, but considering all the times her fairy-god-mother friend has conveniently pooped up to save our telepath from near death situations I'd say its the least Sookie can do. This story sheds some dearly needed light on the personal lives of the twins (what does one call a pair of triplets exactly?), and so "Fairy Dust" was a welcome addition to the collection.

The second story, "One Word Answer", is significant in that it plugs up a gaping hole in the continuity of the main novels. When the Hadley storyline was rather abruptly introduced in the sixth book, Sookie already knew the whole story of her cousin's entanglement with Queen Sophie-Anne. Unfortunate readers like myself, however, were totally in the dark. "One Word Answer" is where Sookie, and dedicated readers, learn Hadley's history for the first time. In the third story, "Dracula Night", Eric invites Sookie to Fangtasia to take part in the annual celebration of the count's birth into darkness. This standalone story certainly brings the humor, as we find out that the usually cool, confident Eric suffers from a serious case of hero-worship when it comes to all thing Dracula. We also get to see a bit of the rest of the Fangtasia crew (including Pam), which is always a treat. In the fourth story, "Lucky", Sookie and the witchy roommate she picked up in New Orleans, Amelia Bradshaw, team up to figure out what supernatural forces have been plaguing the insurance industry in Bon Temps. This story was enjoyable (Amelia's always a hoot), but not particularly memorable in the grand scheme of things. The final story, "Gift Wrap" was my least favorite of the bunch. In it, Sookie rescues a wounded Were on Christmas eve from the woods surrounding her house. The two bond a little (physically as well as emotionally), before going their separate ways the next day. The reader then finds out that the whole thing was an elaborate set up by her great grandfather so she wouldn't be alone on Christmas. (Niall has the best of intentions, but as an ancient fairy he is a little out of touch with humanity). This story seemed a little gratuitous (Sookie shares an attraction with yet another hunky, but ultimately disposable, 'supe), but overall I was very pleased with the entire collection.

Shortly after finishing A Touch of Dead I decided to check out another one of Harris' series, seeing as how I've found the Sookie books to be so charming and engaging. So I ordered and read Grave Sight from the local library network. Grave Sight is the first in a series about Harper Connelly, a young woman who hunts down missing corpses for a living. Ever since she got struck by lighting in a freak accident as a child (yes, that's right, struck by lightning), Harper has had a powerful connection with the dead. She can locate corpses, and even relive the final moments of the deceased's life. Harper has decided to put her special skill to good use, hiring out her services to a skeptical but desperate clientele, traveling around the country to recover lost souls. Her companion and protector is her step-brother Tolliver Lang. Tolliver has always watched out for Harper since their abusive childhoods at the hands of their drug-addicted parents, and now he's sort of become her business partner and negotiator. The two share a powerful bond, but their relationship is kind of dysfunctional. On the one hand, they introduce live and introduce themselves as brother and sister, but care about each other more intensely than is usual or healthy in a sibling relationship. They're not actually related by blood, but they're not lovers either. I'd bet my bottom dollar that the development of this relationship is the focus of the series in terms of continuing character development. In the meantime they seem to get involved in various mysteries and human drama wherever their unique profession takes them.

Having only read the first book, I cannot really generalize about the series with any credibility, but I did find that it bears some resemblances to the Sookie novels. Both series feature twenty-something women coping with unusual supernatural gifts (telepathy in Sookie's case, a psychic connection with the dead in Harper's) who end up getting involved in small town mysteries. Yet the series differ greatly in that while Sookie lives in a world of vampires, witches, shape-shifters, and other supernatural beings, Harper only has to deal with regular humans in her universe. Now I'm not trying to say that the lack of 'supes makes Harper's world dull per se (humans can provide plenty of fascinating intrigue and drama on their own, no question.) But at the same time I can't deny that I felt something missing from Grave Sight. One of the most engaging aspects of the Sookie novels has been the whole mythology built up behind the series, which is so soundly grounded in the various supernatural communities of Bon Temps, and, by extension, of northern Louisiana. Whereas Sookie's story has this constantly expanding cast of recurring characters, the Harper Connelly series seems only to have the two central figures who travel nomadically from place to place. And after reading Grave Sight, I'm just not convinced that these two characters are interesting enough to carry us through an ongoing series of novels by themselves.

Overall, I didn't enjoy Grave Sight as much as I'd hoped or expected. It offered very little to balance out its melancholy and depressing tone, and its characters were uninspiring and unmemorable. If you enjoy a good mystery, however, you're likely to find that in any Harris book you pick up, the Harper Connelly series included. If you're looking for more character-driven plots, however, stick to Sookie Stackhouse.

Fushigi Yuugi, Volume 3 VIZBIG Edition (containing volumes 7-9)

2009-11-19T16:55:00.000-08:00

I really love the cover art they chose for the third VIZBIG (three-volumes-in-one) release of Fushigi Yuugi. It depicts Miaka and Tamahome in what appears to be Bei Jia ceremonial garb (Bei-Jia is the northernmost of the four kingdoms in the Universe of the Four Gods, modeled after Mongolia).

But anyways, down to brass tacks. And be forewarned that, like all my reviews, this post is very spoilerific. I would also warn readers that this installment of Fushigi Yuugi gets kind of intense at some points. Volumes 7-9 (entitled “Castaway”, “Friend”, and “Lover”, respectively) are a bit darker than earlier, more comedic volumes have been. Each of the three contains a very tragic and/or violent event with significant traumatic repercussions for our characters. In volume seven, it is the slaughtering of Tamahome’s family at the hands of Suboshi in reparation for the supposed murder of his twin, Amiboshi. In volume eight, it is the tragic death of a main character, Nuriko. In volume nine, it’s Nakago’s apparent rape of the innocent heroine, Miaka. And so although Fushigi Yuugi might technically be classified as shoujo (“young girls”) manga, it definitely earns its T+ (older teens) rating in these three volumes.

Yet in spite of all the tragedy and melodrama contained therein, Fushigi Yuugi is still not nearly as harrowing a read, emotionally speaking, as a more subdued, realistic series could be. For example, I’ve found the melancholy coming-of-age manga Sand Chronicles to be much more affecting, because it feels much more real and is therefore more poignant. With Fushigi Yuugi, its frequent and gratuitous forays into “over-the-top” territory prevent me from ever taking the series seriously, even when its main characters are suffering. That being said, I always enjoy FY, perhaps precisely because it does not need to be taken seriously. Yuu Watase is a talented artist and storyteller, and even if her works incorporate many elements of the ridiculous they are usually engaging and addictive and engrossing. Fushigi Yuugi in particular has a sort of timeless quality that rarely disappoints. I always get sucked into reading it, even though I already know the story from watching the anime, and I’m always excited to pick up each new release, and proud to add each one to my shelves.

Volume 7, “Castaway”, begins just after the botched summoning ceremony. Tai Yi-Jun tells Miaka and the warriors that their last hope for summoning Suzaku is to find the Shentso-Pao, a mystical artifact of the priestess of Genbu, who came to the universe of the four gods many years ago. Tai Yi-Jun also warns Miaka in private that although Tamahome has returned to them, she is to have absolutely no (physical) relations with him; in order to summon Suzaku the priestess must be pure, i.e. a virgin. Confused and conflicted, she begins by treating him coldly to push him away, but confesses everything to him soon enough. Although initially taken aback, Tamahome promises her that until Suzaku is summoned he will be content to serve her faithfully as a celestial warrior should. Once everything is over and peace is restored, however, he will “make her the happiest bride in the world”. Also in this volume, we learn more about Chichiri’s past, and he actually turns out to be a much more serious person than we might have thought. In a touching scene, he confesses his past transgressions to Miaka before removing his mask and showing her, for the first time, his true face. Later on, we also learn about Nuriko’s past, and why he first began to cross dress at a very young age. Nuriko was already one of my favorite characters because of his hilarious, straightforward personality, but this revelation of his more serious, tender side just made me love him all the more. I should have read the warning signs right then and there, but it was only later that I began to suspect the imminent killing-off of his character. Alas.

I’d also like to take a second to appreciate the fact that the summoning of Suzaku, as the driving force of conflict in the story, has come to represent so much more than a simple granting of Miaka’s wishes. When she first learned about her priestess-hood, all Miaka could think about was using her wishes for simple, selfish means like passing her high school entrance exams. At this point in the story, however, she and all the other Suzaku warriors have each become fully committed to the summoning for a higher purpose.

Volume 8, “Friend”, follows Miaka and the six warriors (Hotohori had to stay behind in Hong-Nan and do his emperor thing, poor guy) on their journey to Bei-Jia in search of the Shentso-Pao. I like it when the gang goes on the road, because it invariably provides for lots of humor involving the three most gregarious of the warriors (Tasuki, Tamahome, and Nuriko). After being shipwrecked in a storm, the crew washes ashore on a sinister island populated solely by female warriors who kill men on sight (or do worse to them), so of course the celestial warriors must all disguise themselves as women! Nuriko’s thrilled, Tasuki and Tamahome put up a fuss, and poor, sweet, burly Mitsukake fails miserably despite his honest efforts. They finally escape from the island, but not before some nasty encounters with Seiryu warriors. In order to summon Seiryu, they also need the power of the Shentso-Pao, but rather than seek it themselves, they’ve chosen to go about it indirectly by sabotaging the Suzaku warriors whenever possible. Our heroes do finally prevail and reach Bei-Jia in tact. Their triumph, however, is short-lived.

Both the Seiryu and Suzaku camps reach the capital of Bei-Jia separately, but it doesn’t take long for them to run into each other. Nakago learns that the spirit guardians of the Shentso-Pao will never relinquish it to a Seiryu warrior, so he decides to wait until the Suzaku group wins it fair and square and then steal it from them. Bastard. It’s at this point, when the Miaka & co. are on the verge of securing the Shentso-Pao, that Nuriko dies suddenly and tragically in combat. Although it really is quite devastating for such a lovable character to die so brutally, Nurko is pretty lucky in that he at least got to make peace with himself and his conflicted identity issues (resulting from his sister’s death) before he died. He also got to tell Miaka how important his role as her celestial warrior has been to him, and how much he’s grown as a result of it. Even if he had to do everything over again, he wouldn’t change anything. He’d still choose to die in her service. Heartbroken, Miaka is more determined than ever to summon Suzaku.

In Volume 9, “Lover”, Miaka and her remaining five companions venture into the cave containing the Shentso-Pao, guarded by the spirits of two of the Genbu celestial warriors. After a series of trials, in which Miaka surprises even her own warriors with her newfound strength and resolve, they succeed in receiving the treasure, which actually turns out to be an elaborate necklace worn by the priestess of Genbu during her (successful) summoning ceremony. The group’s happiness is cut short be the discovery that the Shentso-Pao alone is not sufficient to summon Suzaku; they must also secure an artifact from the remaining kingdom, the Western Xi-Lang. Poor Tamahome! His crestfallen “will I ever get married!?” expression is really quite hilarious. But as they emerge from the cave, I was strongly reminded of a line from one of my favorite plays ever, Into the Woods: “You may know what you need but to get what you want better see that you keep what you have.” Because the Shentso-Pao is of course immediately stolen by those gosh-darn Seiryu warriors.

This is almost too much for Miaka. After everything they’ve been through, after Nuriko’s sacrifice, to just lose the Shentso-Pao? Guilt-ridden and distraught, she’s willing to do anything to get it back. Knowing this, Nakago is ready to take advantage of her desperation. Using Seiryu’s power, he creates an illusion of Tai Yi-Jun that tells Miaka the only way to reclaim the S-P is to weaken Nakago’s chi. Because she’s no match for him in combat, her only chance, says the fake Tai Yi-Jun, is to seduce him. Miaka is appalled, naturally. “But I thought the priestess had to be a virgin in order to summon Suzaku?” Fake TYJ says that was just a lie she made up in order to keep her and Tamahome in line. This is especially sickening, because not only does Nakago not love Miaka, he doesn’t even desire her. His one and only motive is to violate Miaka and thereby prevent her from ever summoning Suzaku (because the virgin rule is actually valid). So why doesn’t he just kill her? Because as the priestess of Seiryu, Yui has some control over Nakago and she doesn’t want Miaka dead. She still hates Miaka (or thinks she does) and wants to destroy her chances of happiness, but she doesn’t want to kill her.

And so, crying bitterly, Miaka goes to him, but of course she cannot go through with it. Nakago’s much stronger, however, and easily overpowers her. She desperately tries to access her spiritual powers to fight him, but he’s still too strong, and the effort (plus all the emotional stress) really wipes her out. She faints, and we don’t actually see what happen next. The other Suzaku warriors, meanwhile, have been caught in an illusion of their own, while Tamahome, sensing that Miaka’s in danger, breaks free and follows her. He arrives at the Seiryu camp – just as Nakago is leaving. It’s not long before he puts the pieces together and figures out what must have happened. He’s there when Miaka wakes up (undressed and in pain) and quickly takes her away from the Seiryu camp. The next few scenes are pretty painful, but I love how Tamahome surpresses whatever he must be feeling on his own behalf (anger, hurt, etc) and concentrates solely on Miaka’s needs. He tells her how much he loves her, how much he’ll always love her. “You’re beautiful. You’re no different from before. No one and nothing could defile you. Even if we can’t summon Suzaku, it doesn’t matter. I promised I’d make you happy, remember?” But the pain she feels can’t be so easily mitigated; she still feels hurt and used and guilty. And so while Tamahome sleeps she slips quietly away and runs off on her own. End of volume 9.

Well that was a little more detailed of a summary than I intended, but these were pretty action-packed volumes. Fushigi Yuugi, Volume 4 VIZBIG Edition (containing volumes 10-12) will be available on December 15.

Northanger Abbey: finding humor in gothic melodrama. Seriously.

2009-11-14T14:58:00.000-08:00

Thus concludes my quest to read all six of Austen’s novels, and boy am I glad I saved this one for last. It’s been so long since I read Emma, I’d almost forgotten that Austen novels could actually be fun. And considering the fact that the last two I read were a little on the solemn side, I was quite pleasantly surprised by how lighthearted and playful Northanger Abbey was. I liked it more than I expected, especially since I feel that it generally gets the least love from Austen fans, though I can’t imagine why. It’s still not my favorite of all six, but it’s definitely in the top three. But more on that later.

Northanger Abbey tells the story of a young girl who travels with family friends to Bath in order to experience fashionable society. She quickly makes a variety of new friends, including the seemingly kind and generous, but ultimately expedient and self-serving, Thorpes, as well as the more elegant and distinguished Tilneys. When the Tilneys invite her to stay at their home, the titular abbey, Catherine’s overactive imagination begins to run away with her. Finding herself housed in one of those old and forbidding structures featured in so many horror novels, she begins to imagine all sorts of dreadful, fantastical things about its inhabitants. Having unknowingly convinced herself that she’s the heroine of a story that doesn’t exist, she attempts to solve a mystery that isn’t really there. The results are amusing, but the consequences aren’t to be taken lightly as she winds up interfering in some rather serious matters along the way.

I was a little apprehensive in starting the novel, as I knew it contained a good deal of satire of gothic fiction. I happen to be a fan of the gothic novel (everything from Frankenstein to Jane Eyre – I eat it all up), and I was concerned I wouldn’t enjoy a book that basically made fun of another genre. Yet I needn’t have worried. Satire well and lovingly done can always be enjoyed, even by those who highly esteem its object. Northanger Abbey serves as much more than a stern lesson to naïve young girls about the inherent danger and foolishness of reading novels. Indeed, what a silly, hypocritical thing to write a novel about! On the contrary, Austen does not disparage fiction in this particular work of fiction. In fact, she spends the better part of an entire chapter defending the activity of reading novels against its harsher critics. And yet her tale does caution the over-zealous, indiscriminate reader against the unhappiness one can expect if one fails to distinguish properly between fiction and reality, something most readers can probably appreciate all too well. And all of this Austen accomplishes through a very entertaining and amusing story to boot.

The heroine of Northanger Abbey is Catherine Morland, a young girl from a large family who grew up in the countryside reading as many novels as she could get her hands on in diligent, if slightly misguided, preparation for the time she would enter fashionable society for the first time at the tender age of seventeen. Some readers might take issue with Catherine’s poor jugement and lack of perception throughout the novel, but I don’t think that’s entirely fair. The combination of her inexperience (she’s by far the youngest of Austen’s heroines) and her open, trusting nature (having grown up among good, honest people she naturally expects others to be good and honest as well) make her an easy target for those who would take advantage of her innocently unsuspicious character. It was really fun to get inside Catherine’s head, and to watch her grow up over the course of the novel.

I don't really have a whole lot else to say about this novel; although it was very enjoyable, it was pretty straightforward for the most part, which is why it doesn't trump the more complex Emma or Pride and Prejudice in my opinion. Heck, even the horrible Mansfeild Park was more discuss-able than this one.

That being said, Northanger Abbey was one of the most quotable of Austen’s novels, what with the heavy satire and all. Some memorable excerpts from the pages of Northanger Abbey…

To look almost pretty is an acquisition of higher delight to a girl who has been looking plain the first fifteen years of her life than a beauty from her cradle can ever receive.

But from fifteen to seventeen she was in training for a heroine; she read all such works as heroines must read to supply their memories with those quotations which are so serviceable and so soothing in the vicissitudes of their eventful lives.

It would be mortifying to the feelings of many ladies could they be made to understand how little the heart of man is affected by what is costly or new in their attire.

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.

________________________________________
Ok, so now that I’ve finished all six completed Austen novels, I can finally rank them. (That was the whole point of reading them, right?) Drum roll, please…

1. Emma. Hands down. The funniest, the most entertaining heroine, the best cast of extended characters, plus a very satisfying romance.
2. Pride and Prejudice. The most romantic. Also, some pretty classic characters. The one with Mr. Collins.
3. Northanger Abbey. See above.
4. Persuasion. Was ok, but not the best.
5. Sense & Sensibility. Meh. Started out great, went downhill. Had lost patience with both sisters long before the end.

6. Mansfield Park. I’ve already said enough about my feelings for this one.

Dollhouse cancelled! Sad, but not terribly shocking...

2009-11-14T14:01:00.001-08:00

The bad news, which the small yet devoted Dollhouse fanbase has been trying to stave off since the show's inauspicious premiere in February, has finally arrived. FOX officially announced this week that Joss Whedon's television allegory about identity and exploitation will be cancelled after the remaining nine episodes air. This was a huge disappointment for me (I've really enjoyed watching and writing about this show, and I feel like there's so much about the characters and story yet to be explored), but I cannot say that it was wholly unexpected. Whether due to it's undesirable Friday night timeslot, or to its overly complex and unwieldy plot structure, or to a combination of the two, the show never managed to build up a large enough live audience to keep it going. I was grateful and optimistic when Dollhouse was picked up for a second season last spring, but seeing as how the show remained in it's Friday night spot, continued to draw depressing ratings, and got swept out of the November sweeps, I wasn't terribly surprised to hear the news. Still, it's hard to face the finality of the cancellation after stubbornly holding out hope for the better part of the year that things would turn around, and that the show might yet have a bright future. It must suck even more for the actors and production team.

And speaking of those actors, let me just say how much I dearly hope Enver Gjokaj finds a new project soon. It's not just that I have such a crush on him. I also think he's an amazing actor, and really deserves more recognition. I also wouldn't mind seeing Dichen Lachmen again on either the big or small screen.

If there's a silver lining here, it's that the remaining nine episodes will air throughout December and January, and that advanced notice of the cancellation will at least allow Joss & co. to prepare for the end. What that means is that fans will most likely be given a degree of closure which wouldn't be possible if the show had been cancelled in a more brutal fashion (as in kind of like, oh I dunno, the last show Whedon created for this network. At least Dollhouse won't go the way of Firefly. Although, if it meant we'd get a feature film several years later it might be worth it.)

So there's nothing much for fans to do except reconcile themselves to the harsh reality, and to console themselves as best they can with the remaining nine episodes of season two. On the other hand, if finishing DH means Whedon can actually get to work on the Dr. Horrible sequel he's been promising for, like, ever - well, that wouldn't be a completely terrible thing either.

Memorable TV opening themes

2009-11-08T21:43:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is kind of random, but I was just thinking today about how much I love the opening sequences of television shows. On the one hand, if it’s a show you really love, it doesn’t even matter how good the opening is, you still react to it like Pavlov’s dog to a bell; the very first notes of the theme song cue that instant rush of excitement and anticipation as you await the imminent commencement of another episode. On the other hand, there’s a lot to be said for opening sequences that are creative and exciting in and of themselves, even if the show itself doesn’t really do much for you. Yet if one of your favorite shows has a killer opener, one that is dynamic and interesting and perfectly captures the unique tone of a unique show – the effect is amazing. It’s an art form, really.

And so here are some of my favorite television opening sequences, in descending chronological order (i.e. in reverse order of when the shows premiered with their openers).

True Blood (2008). It’s gritty, it’s grotesque, it’s bizarre, it’s strangely fascinating. Just like the show itself, in fact. None of the main actors appear in this opening, but the images used perfectly convey the show’s tone and its stylized northern Louisiana setting. And the song is just perfect! I usually cannot stand country music at all, but I actually had Jace Everett’s “Bad Things” as my cell phone ring for like six months. I can’t really describe the effect of the True Blood opening; it speaks for itself.

Conspiracy in the Court (2007). Ok, this comes from a kdrama, not an American show. But I had to include it because I really thought it did a wonderful job of introducing this fusion sageuk political thriller drama. Conspiracy in the Court stands apart from other dramas in a lot of ways – it really sets out to achieve something different (hence the fusion aspect), and does so extremely well – and this opening really reflects that. When you consider also that most kdramas have pretty lame, generic openings if they have them at all, this sequence becomes all the more remarkable. Observe:

Dexter (2006). Honestly, I never really got into this show. I admire it, I think it’s very cool, I just never got hooked on it enough to make the time to watch it. But the opening is just so amazing. It was expertly shot and edited so as to make an ordinary, tame morning routine appear violent and savage. Thanks to this sequence, I will never look at breakfast in quite the same way again.

Veronica Mars (2006). I say 2006 even though the show premiered in 2004 because they revamped the opening sequence for the third (and, unfortunately, final) season. For the first two seasons the VM opening was pretty average. I liked the song (“We Used to Be Friends” by the Dandy Warhols), but other than that the sequence was pretty unremarkable. For the third season they reworked the song, making it more subdued and stylized, and set it to a series of sepia-toned stills. All in all, I think the new version was much more interesting, and a much better representation of the series. Veronica Mars was, at its core, a noir-influenced detective show set in southern California and featuring a petite blonde heroine. The new opening reflected that.

Cowboy Bebop (1998). I think I’ll just let this one speak for itself. You don’t need to know anything about the show in order to watch this opening and think its just plain awesome. The brass music, the bright solid colors, the animation…

The X-Files (1993). My parents were both diehard fans of this show in the 90s, and they let me watch with them on Sunday nights even though I was probably too young. Even to this day the eerie whistling music gives me the shivers. I remember waiting anxiously each week to see what message would appear at the very end, whether the typical “The truth is out there” or that once in a blue moon substitution. Exciting times indeed. (Sorry about the quality.)

Cheers (1982). Oh, this makes me miss Boston so much! This is just another example of an opening in which all the elements work. The lyrics of the song, combined with the slideshow of images, evoke a powerful nostalgia in me – for Boston, my former home, for the show and all its incomparable characters, for the time when I used to watch it with my family. This was a great show. So simple, so fantastic, so hilarious. It really does make me think about going home, and the theme song hits a very special place in my heart. And now I think I might cry. But it’s a good, happy kind of feeling. That’s how powerful a good tv opening, with strong personal associations, can be.

So although I’m sure there are many more great television openings out there, these were just a few of my favorites. A good opening sequence can be a very powerful thing. May this special art form continue to flourish for many years to come!

Predators and Prey (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 8, volume 6)

2009-11-07T18:38:00.000-08:00

Gosh, it seems like forever since I wrote about volume 4 back in June. This most recent volume of Dark Horse’s comic continuation of the epic television series was released in September, but it’s taken me quite some time to catch up. First, Barnes and Noble postponed my order for about a month, and then when it finally did arrive one thing lead to another, and now here we are in November and I’m finally getting down to business.

All in all, this was a decent installment of Season 8, but the comic as a whole still fails to recapture the awesomeness that was the original television show. It has all of the same characters (well, most of them anyways), and I do like how it has boldly continued to develop the mythology of the story beyond the cataclysmic series finale. Yet much of the magic of the series has been lost in its translation into the comic medium. One of the main casualties of the switch is the show’s humor, which by and large has not carried over. The writers of Season 8 do sprinkle in the occasional witty one-liner here and there, but without the delivery of live actors the dialogue tends to fall rather flat on the page. The show should always find fresh, surprising ways of being laugh-out-loud hilarious. So far, Season 8 has yet to achieve that. Or maybe I’m just too picky, or too close to the original material to judge the comic objectively. I will say that, for what it is, Season 8 is usually a pretty solid, entertaining read. So long as one remembers that what it isn’t is as good as the original.

But anyways, on to a discussion of the particulars of volume 5, which contains issues #21-25, plus a few extras.

Issue #21, “Harmonic Divergence”, was pretty exciting in that it reintroduced one of my favorite recurring characters from the show, Harmony Kendall. Harmony was a vapid mean girl, characterized by pettiness, petulance, a week will, and an absurd love for tacky unicorn figures. Very little of her personality changed when she was made into a vampire at the end of season three (with hilarious results.) Her incorporation now into Season 8 is a really good illustration of why the comic both works and doesn’t work. Harmony’s foray into the world of reality television in this issue was a great storyline that stayed true to her original character and was very entertaining. And yet, at the same time, it just wasn’t’ the same as watching Mercedes McNab’s pitch-perfect performance. I’m not sure, but I also think the writers may have been taking a dig at (or at least playing off of) True Blood in this issue, what with their setting up Harmony as a kind of spokesperson for vampire rights, spearheading the integration of vampires into mainstream society. Of course the twist here is that the social justice movement modeled in True Blood (“vampires are people too!”) is made out to be shallow, manipulative PR designed to put a negative spin on the real heroes of society (i.e. the slayers).

Issue #22, “Swell”, featured two characters I don’t really love (Kennedy, who first appeared in season seven, and Satsu, an original creation of Season 8), but still managed to be pretty cool, regardless. Kennedy shows up in Japan to run a “standard op” evaluation of Satsu’s performance in her new role as cell leader. That’s the official reason anyways, but in truth Kennedy just wants to give Satsu a little pep talk to help her get over the whole still-in-love-with-Buffy thing. (Of course, this is Kennedy we’re talking about, so her heart-to-heart, while well intentioned, is a little bit on the abrasive side.) Nevertheless, I like the way this episode provided some closure to the whole Satsu/Buffy thing without writing off her character or making her too one-dimensional. Well done, Season 8 writers. Oh, and the Japan team also takes down an army of vampire teddy bears as well.

Issue #23, “Predators and Prey”, was kind of a confusing issue, plot-wise, that involved Andrew and Buffy tracking down a rogue slayer and her team of marauding thugettes in the Italian countryside. While the duo fails to bring Simone and her gang back over from the dark side, they do share some much needed bonding time. Ah, Andrew. Another one of my favorites from the show. If I could pick any television character to be my real-life best friend, it would be a toss up between Marshall from How I Met Your Mother or Andrew from Buffy. Sure, he’s annoying, slightly delusional, and not too long ago he was a weak-willed accomplice to murder. Yet he’s become the poster boy for second chances, and I really dig that. He’s walking proof that even geeky villain wannabees can find redemption. Plus, how much do I love the fact that, in this issue, Andrew makes the confession when confronted with certain death that he’s always been on team Spike? (I love Angel too, don’t bite my head off, I just have a special place in my heart for Spike.) So although I wasn’t too enthused about the story of this issue, I thought the character stuff was great, and at the end of the day that’s what really counts.

In issue #24, “Safe”, we return to Giles and Faith, who teamed up and kind of broke away from the slayer organization, at least temporarily, back in volume two. While I’m very glad to see these two back in action, it’s also very sad for me to be reminded of how distant Giles and Buffy have become. They barely keep in touch with each other anymore. Their relationship underwent a great deal of strain in season seven, and although there’s no real animosity between them they’ve kind of grown apart. It’s just sad considering how uber-close they were in the past, in spite of their differences. They shared a genuine father-daughter love for one another, but Buffy’s a hero, and Giles was always more willing to make the hard choices. I’d like to think their bond will never truly fade, but I guess only time will tell. Another question I had about this issue: didn’t the entire Watcher’s Council die in the bombing in season seven? Where did this survivor come from? I guess it’s not important, I just felt like that needed more explanation.

Issue #25, “Living Doll” was a little blah in the plot department as well, but it served a much greater purpose in the grand scheme of things: namely, turning Dawn back into her human form for good. This whole deal with Dawn and the tricewise’s curse dragged on long enough, and I was more than happy to see it finally explained and resolved. It seemed almost as if the writers didn’t really know what to do with her character in Season 8; this weird plotline has kind of marginalized her from the group for a while now. I hope now that she’s back to normal she will play a more integral role in slayer operations. I know Buffy wants to protect her, but Dawn’s practically grown up now, and has at least as much right to be included as Xander, who’s just as human and powerless as she. Oh! And how tickled was I when Dawn made that reference to Valley of the Dolls, which I recently finished reading?

After issue #25, volume five also contains a special short story featuring the misadventures of Harmony on her reality show, “Harmony Bites”, as well as some faux magazine inserts and advertisements from her publicity. Fun stuff, but I’m not sure how I feel about sweet, unaffected Clem (the loose-skinned demon who used to play kitten poker with Spike) being Harmony’s new “friend” (i.e. chauffeur/pawn/source-of-amusement-when-she’s-bored). I guess it makes sense, though, since Harmony uses people and Clem’s a total pushover. I just feel bad for the guy. I wonder if the two ever reminisce about their former mutual friend Spike?

Volume six of Season 8, entitled “Retreat”, will be released in March of 2010.

Shining Inheritance shines brightly within its genre

2009-11-02T13:49:00.000-08:00

(Note: In this post, ESM = Evil Stepmother. I got really tired of typing that out over and over)

THE PITCH:

It’s been a while since I’ve been so thoroughly engrossed in a drama as I was in Shining Inheritance (aka Brilliant Legacy). I’m certainly not the only one to have gone ga ga over this summer’s smash hit weekend series from SBS, as evidenced by its impressive ratings, which climbed up to 47%. And yet at least in terms of plot and basic character types Shining Inheritance seems very similar to many other formulaic dramas you may have already seen. So why was this one so successful? Why did I, and so many others, enjoy it so very much? That’s what I’m going to try to explain in this post, but I think it boils down to the fact that while the character concepts and storylines may not be especially original, they are surprisingly well-acted and well-developed. Shining Inheritance is an example of a drama in which all the various elements come together in a really cohesive, satisfying way. Even if it is a mite predictable, it’s done well and addictive as shit. The romance, the family drama, the humor, the sadness, the heartwarming moments – it was just a really winning combination for me.

THE PLOT:

The story begins when a businessman on the brink of bankruptcy apparently dies in a freak accident, leaving behind his two biological children, as well as their stepmother and stepsister. The greedy and manipulative stepmother (ESM) manages to swindle the man’s children out of their share of the life insurance money, keeping it all for herself and her own daughter. The two unfortunate children, our heroine Eun-Sung and her autistic brother Eun-Woo, are forced to fend for themselves when the ESM cuts them off and casts them out. I know this is starting to sound kind of hackneyed and trite (pure, plucky, put-upon heroine triumphs against the odds and wins the love of prince-not-so-charming), but Shining Inheritance actually has a lot more to offer than plot contrivances and wild histrionics.

THE CHARACTERS:

Han Hyo-Ju plays Go Eun-Sung, a quick-tempered but compassionate young woman whose life is forever changed the day her father dies. In spite of the suffering she endures after being so callously abandoned by the ESM, Eun-Sung manages to pull through with the help of some very good friends. Through a certain chain of events, she eventually wins the trust and respect of an aging CEO who decides to name Eun-Sung her sole heir and successor of her company. Throughout the drama, Eun-Sung struggles to balance her aspirations and fears as she slowly uncovers the convoluted web of deception that has caused all her misfortunes. That’s a lot for one girl to handle, but Eun-Sung’s skinny little frame belies her true inner strength and tenacity. Although I didn’t find Han Hyo-Ju particularly remarkable in the acting department, her character was written well enough that it didn’t really matter so much to me; I couldn’t help but like the warm, affectionate, irascible Eun-Sung.

Lee Seung-Gi, meanwhile, plays Hwan, the only grandson of the lady who promises all her assets to Eun-Sung when she dies. And just in case you want to feel sorry for the guy for having his considerable fortune bequeathed to someone else, don’t. Grandma’s not looking to pass her legacy on to a grandson who doesn’t deserve it, and he definitely doesn’t. In fact, Hwan’s such an irresponsible, inconsiderate, arrogant jerk in the beginning of the series, it’s hard to believe he’s actually the love interest of our honest, hardworking Eun-Sung (and indeed, their relationship doesn’t develop in that way for a long time). We learn some of the reasons why he got to be that way later in the story, but nothing excuses the despicable behavior he initially exhibits. One of the wonderful things about Shining Inheritance, however, is the complex and nuanced way it shows Hwan’s transformation into a conscientious, caring person of whom his family can be proud. One might be reminded of another 2009 drama in which the rich jerk is turned around by the right girl, but unlike Boys Before Flowers, Shining Inheritance is no simple story of beauty taming the beast. It’s the story of a man who is gradually humbled and brought to bear by his grandmother’s tough love and his own personal trials and experiences as much as by his relationship with the girl. And Lee Seung-Gi does a truly wonderful job portraying the subtleties of Hwan’s transformation. I defy anybody to watch this drama and not be won over by him. It just can’t be done.

Bae Su-Bin and Moon Chae-Won play the secondary leads and round out the love square. (Can you round out a square?) Yay! I love these two, both of whom also appeared in Painter of the Wind, one of the few dramas I watched last year. Bae Su-Bin plays Park Jun-Sae, a restaurant owner who supports and cherishes Eun-Sung as a kind of older brother/would-be lover figure. Basically, he’s the perfect man. He has integrity and honesty. He’s quite and gentle, but can also be stern. He’s sensitive, but strong. He always thinks of others before himself, he can look totally manly while crying his eyes out. And yet his endless perfection doesn’t irritate me, perhaps because he never seems to get the things he so richly deserves. Plus, he never expresses that annoying sense of entitlement to the object of his affections that makes me dislike so many other kdrama characters frustrated in love. (Lee Jun-Ki in My Girl, for example? I wanted him to die.) Jun-Sae feels disappointment, pain, and heartbreak, but never resentment towards Eun-Sung and Hwan, both of whom he respects and values. Rarely has a kdrama’s romantic 3rd wheel elicited as much sympathy in me as did Jun-Sae. Of course, Bae Su-Bin’s gorgeous eyes didn’t hurt either. Those deep, expressive pools of emotion! I noticed them in Painter, of course, but we get to see a lot more of them in this drama.

Moon Chae-Won plays Eun-Sung’s former stepsister Seung-Mi, a second female lead whom one alternatively pities and hates. While she does lie and manipulate and generally help the ESM weave a tangled web of deceit, Seung-Mi’s not the one-dimensional caricature of vicious jealousy we’ve seen in other trendy dramas (Chae-Rin from Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang comes to mind). From a lonely, neglected childhood Seung-Mi grows into a fragile, emotionally needy young woman. (Those needs are mostly tied up in Hwan, who’s known and looked out for her since their high school days.) Seung-Mi sheds real tears over the crimes instigated by her mother, but she always finds herself becoming an equal accomplice in them. Her actions, however inexcusable, are born from hopelessness and desperation rather than from ill will. Moon Chae-Won is very easy to watch in this role; she’s stunningly beautiful and cries very naturally (really, she could give Han Hyo-Ju lessons).

Kim Mi-Sook plays Baek Sung-Hee. Ah, the ESM is such a fascinating creature. Perhaps the evil Madame Choi from Dae Jang Geum could match ESM in greed and depravity, but nobody can rival ESM’s skills in manipulation and deception. To be able to spin lie after lie so convincingly! To commit such atrocious deeds while maintaining the external appearance of innocence and sincerity! Poor unsuspecting Eun-Sung hardly stood a chance. (Actually, speaking of Madame Choi, the dynamic between ESM and Seung-Mi reminded me quite a bit of that between Madame Choi and her niece Geum-Young in Dae Jang Geum. The same evil apprenticeship imposed by the mother figure onto her initially unwilling but ultimately compliant charge.)

And finally, Ban Hyo-Jung as Hwan’s grandmother: I’d be remiss if, after rambling on about all these other characters, I failed to mention the one who, in many ways, holds the entire story together. This lady’s pride and integrity, her strong leadership of her family and of her company, and her love for Hwan and Eun-Sung lie at the very heart of this series, making Shining Inheritance so much more than your typical, melodramatic Cinderella drama.

THE REST:

Okay, moving on from the individual characters to the drama as a whole… Another thing that was really cool about Shining Inheritance was the way it incorporated into the story the theme of money: what it means or doesn’t mean to people, how it drives or affects them. Throughout the story, money plays significant yet drastically different roles in the lives of every single character. Eun-Sung takes it for granted before the loss of all her assets teaches her to fear and value it. To Hwan, his wealth represents an essential part of his precious identity, but he slowly learns to understand and appreciate money honestly earned. ESM, of course, values money for the sake of security and power; to her, it is the end that justifies any conceivable means. Eun-Sung’s father’s bankruptcy and Grandma’s enormous legacy are both key features of the overarching plot, the two catalysts that set the whole story in motion. Yet the theme of money and meaning is woven into the story in smaller ways as well, such as when Hwan takes a delivery order to an elderly couple living in poverty. As the man’s shaking hand reaches under a can to retrieve a few coins and crumpled bills with which to pay him, Hwan thinks instinctively back to a time when he carelessly threw a wad of cash at a man he’d assaulted, and feels deeply shaken and ashamed. This is just one example of why Shining Inheritance shines just a little brighter for me than many other ostensible similar dramas I’ve seen. The romance is swoon-worthy and everything, but these touching moments of deeper meaning make the drama that much more special.

Which brings me to my next point of how well paced and unified the drama is overall. Many longer series (and even some of the shorter ones) can have many ongoing side storylines that at best detract from the focus of the main story and at worse are downright irritating in and of themselves. This was not the case with Shining Inheritance. The series was evenly paced such that I didn’t need to watch the whole thing with my finger hovering over the fast forward button. Moreover, all the characters and story elements were both functional to the plot and engaging and entertaining in their own right. Hwan’s family members and Eun-Sung’s friends – I grew to love them all.

Yet along with all this praise, I do have one complaint to register with Shining Inheritance, if only to demonstrate that I do have a little discernment after all. I felt like it dragged a little bit in the final few episodes. Due to its popularity, the show, originally planned for 24 episodes, was extended mid-run to 28 episodes. (Ratings-based cuts and extensions are a growing trend for kdramas right now.) So while I say that Shining Inheritance was very well paced overall, I must admit it lagged a bit in the final stretch. But at least, for that brief period in which Hwan and Eun-Sung had worked themselves into a kind of emotional impasse, other elements of the story were progressing more steadily.

So, that’s pretty much all I have to say about this drama at this time. I friggin’ liked it, okay? I thought its complexity and thoughtfulness made it stand out among other more formulaic products of its genre. Plus, its characters really got to my heart. I lost lots of sleep staying up to watch huge chunks of it at a time. Whether Shining Inheritance was good or bad, it definitely got me. But I’m pretty sure it was good.

Dollhouse 2.05, "Belonging"

2009-10-28T20:50:00.000-07:00

Oh my dear sweet goodness gracious, it is such a shame that hardly anybody is watching this show anymore, because last week’s episode totally killed!!!. It was intense, the acting was amazing, the dialogue was sickeningly provocative, and (best of all) it was coherent! I feel like “Belonging” finally succeeded in what this show has been trying to do all along, and has only been dancing around achieving. As a sci-fi allegory, Dollhouse has set itself up as a show that explores issues of exploitation and consent. Yet on multiple occasions the show has fallen on just the wrong side of the fence, with its treatment of these ideas coming off as gimmicky rather than serious. This episode, however, hit the nail dead on the center of the head; I’m still reeling from how awesome it was.

This episode explores the details of how Sierra came to be in the Dollhouse, and it is not a pretty story. Unlike the other dolls, she did not volunteer for this "service." She was originally a free-spirited artist named Priya who became the obsession of a Rossum bigwig named Nolan. Nolan tries everything he could to win her over: money, luxury, gallery showings for her paintings, the works. When she makes it very clear she’s having none of it, the guy shows his true colors. We don’t actually see this next part, but we later learn that he kidnapped her and drugged into a state of paranoid schizophrenia, then used his Rossum connections to get her admitted into the Dollhouse. Once she’s become a doll not only can he have her, but he can have her in any way he wants. He can make her say she loves him and mean it. It’s the ultimate form of abusive fantasy-fullfilment, and it’s sick, sick, sick.

When the situation is finally brought to the attention of the DH staff (by an increasingly cognizant Echo, no less), Nolan and the other higher-ups exert pressure on Adelle to imprint Sierra and hand her over to him permanently. She caves, and tells Topher to do it. Feeling repulsed and guilt-ridden at the role he played in turning Sierra into a doll in the first place, Topher rebels and imprints Sierra with Priya, the original, and sicks her on an unsuspecting Nolan. What follows is a harrowing chain of events that has irrevocable consequences and far-reaching implications for Topher, Sierra, Adelle, and everyone in the Dollhouse.

This episode marked somewhat of a turning point for Adelle. Up till now she’s always staunchly defended the “purity” of the engagements, and of the Dollhouse’s mission, to the moral dissenters like Paul and Caroline. (Remember her words to Caroline in the pilot? “What we do here helps people.”) She’s always been able to rationalize and justify the work she does, to herself and to everyone else, but in this episode she just can’t, and it’s a real blow to her. This was satisfying for me because I’ve been bothered for a while by Adelle’s pseudo-morality. She’s shown an increasing level of genuine concern for her actives' welfare, and has come to see herself as their guardian and protector. Yet this conflicts with the very nature of what she’s doing with them. When she first learns what Nolan did to Sierra, she’s livid (I would no sooner allow you near one of our other Actives than I would a mad dog near a child… Given that you're a raping scumbag one tick shy of a murderer.) And yet, as her sinister, amoral boss points out to her, Nolan isn’t really behaving differently from their other clients. Boss-man’s words to her are chilling in their ugly truthfulness:

Adelle: If we do this, what does that make us?
Boss-man: [raising his eyebrows] What are we already? … If the feeling that you’re somehow decent and moral helps you get through your day, [shrugs] that’s your business. This house, however, is our business.

She can’t keep hedging any longer; confronted with the true implications of her work and feeling the pressure from above, Adelle makes the despicable choice... Which leads to another intense scene in which she tells Topher to carry out the order to imprint Sierra permanently for Nolan.

Topher: [dazed, unbelieving] How can you expect me to do this?
Adelle: [Quietly] You’ll do it because you must. The cold reality is that everyone here was chosen because their morals had been compromised in some way. Everyone [walking towards him] except you. You, Topher, were chosen [putting her hand to his face, gently] because you have no morals. You have always thought of people as your playthings. This is not a judgment. You always take good care of your toys. But you’re simply going to have to let this one go.

Ouch! Man, that hurts. Adelle’s recent disillusionment with her own identity has left her cold and brutal and bitter. But do you see what I mean about this episode’s dialogue? During both of these exchanges, as well as the rest of the episode, I was glued to the screen: fascinated, horrified, almost unbelieving.

In addition to Adelle and Topher, both Sierra and Victor really got to shine in this episode. I’ve already gushed enough about the incredible acting (and adorableness!) of Enver Gjokaj, but Dichen Lachman is also very good. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s got a beautiful, unique look. I love that no matter what situation these characters are in, no matter what personalities they’re imprinted with, these two people always find themselves inevitably drawn to one another. It may sound cheesy and trite, but it really isn’t. Their innocence and sweetness actually provides a brilliant contrast to the darker, grittier, more cynical and sinister elements of the Dollhouse world. With the odds so hopelessly stacked against them, and with so many forces constantly driving them apart (mentally as well as physically), they still manage to find tiny, yet momentous ways to connect with each other. It really is very touching.

In other news, Dollhouse is going on hiatus until December 4th, at which time Fox will air the next six episodes in three weeks. Although the network has officially committed to airing all thirteen produced episodes of season two, the future for the show beyond that point is looking grim indeed. Yet if the show can maintain the intensity, focus, and all-around awesomeness of “Belonging” for the rest of its run, however long that may be, I guess I can’t really ask for more.

Valley of the Dolls: anti-feminist romp, precursor of modern chick lit?

2009-10-28T16:20:00.000-07:00

You've got to climb to the top of Mount Everest to reach the Valley of the Dolls

So begins the novel about fortune, fame, and substance abuse in the 1960s. And yes, the writing is just as heavy-handed as the very bad opening poem. But when has this campy classic ever arrogated the status of “great writing”?

A friend of mine lent me her copy of Valley of the Dolls last month, saying that I absolutely MUST read it, and that it was one of her favorite books of all time. Seeing as how the book (and the 1967 film) has become such an enduring cult classic I figured I’d give it a shot, even though it didn’t really seem like me cup of tea.

After reading it, if I had to describe the novel in two words I would say “fascinating” and “sickening”. It was like watching one of those exposes on the Discovery Channel that are so bizarre and grotesque you just can’t look away. You cover your eyes, but can’t resist peering through a gap in your fingers. Similarly, although my gut reaction to the novel’s content was dismay and disgust, whenever I picked up the book and started reading, I just couldn’t put it down. During the week it took me to read it in its entirety, the book was as strangely addictive as the prescription drugs for which it was named, and probably just about as good for me.

As I was thinking about this novel, I actually remembered something David Carradine said on the special features of Kill Bill: that the film wasn’t really about the action or the violence in and of itself, but rather about providing an “inside look at the mind and heart of violent people.” In a similar way, Valley of the Dolls can be said to provide a compelling look into the minds and hearts of pill-popping female celebrities of the 50s and 60s, while neither glorifying nor vilifying their self-destructive lifestyles.

The novel features three friends who each manage to rise to varying degrees of fame and success in the entertainment and beauty industries, and who subsequently sink to the depths of depression and substance abuse. The book’s author, Jacqueline Susann, was an actress and writer who supposedly modeled many of her characters on contemporary celebrities. Anne is a conservative girl with a beautiful face who moves to New York to escape the restriction of her stifling New England hometown. Elegant and classy, Anne can also come off as uptight and cold, yet she harbors a life-long passion for a single man (who is completely unworthy of her irrational idolization, by the way). Neely O’Hara is an uneducated, impetuous girl who makes it big first on Broadway and then in Hollywood. Yet as her success grows, so does her ego and her increasingly uncontrollable behavior. Jennifer is a quiet, mild-mannered girl who suffers no delusions about her “acting career.” (An international sex symbol, her body has been her ticket to success). Deep down she yearns for genuine love, but is finds herself constantly objectified at every turn.

Most of the book’s characters, especially Neely, Anne, and Lyon (the object of Anne’s obsession), are pretty unpalatable in their own ways (Jennifer was the only one I really liked.) Yet I did sympathize with the fact that in a society of which blatant sexism is an integral part, independent women had very few options and were subjected to an endless supply of unnatural pressures. Yet when you get right down to it, The Valley of the Dolls is just a book about how these trashy people got to be so trashy. I got through it pretty quickly, but the overall, lasting impression was not favorable.

Dollhouse: season two opens with inauspicious ratings

2009-10-12T08:18:00.000-07:00

But, hey, what else is new for this show, huh? It’s still hanging on, if only just by a thread; after its seemingly miraculous renewal in the face of dismal ratings last spring, Dollhouse has returned to the Friday-night-graveyard of primetime where its return has been heralded once again by down-right depressing numbers. This post will cover the first three episodes of season two in one go, partly because I’ve been backlogged and haven’t gotten around to them until now, and partly because episode three rocked just a little bit more than the first two. So, yeah, I’m still enjoying this show because it’s grappling with some very heavy, far-out material (albeit often in an awkward, rough and ready kind of way.)

2.01 “Vows” In this episode, former agent Ballard (I think I’ll just call him Paul from now on) tests out his new, shaky alliance with Adelle & co. by arranging for Echo to be imprinted as an undercover agent programmed to help solve a case he himself never resolved with the FBI. So she goes undercover and actually marries this international arms dealer. Things start out well but soon go south, of course, and Paul is forced to improvise, actually using Echo’s rather unique “personality disorder” to solve the case in a rather unorthodox way. At the end of the day, when the bad guy’s all arrested and everything, Paul gets to be made Echo’s official handler, at which point the un-imprinted Echo asks him if he’ll help her find Caroline. Meanwhile, Dr Saunders struggles with the recent discovery that she herself was once an active, and that her entire personality and life as Saunders are just a construction of Topher’s, the guy she already hates (by design, it would seem.) She responds at first by finding cruel and petty ways to torment and freak him out, which culminates in this great confrontational scene between the two of them. I found it really interesting that she doesn’t seem to want to reclaim her original identity; she’s too afraid of relinquishing the reality she knows isn’t really real. To her, that would be like dying, and it scares her. Perhaps even more interesting is what Topher finally tells her: that he programmed her to question him, yes, because he thought it was necessary and prudent, but he never programmed her to hate him. She chose to. As much as I like the usual, smarmy Topher, it was really great to see this unnerved, vulnerable side of him.

2.02 “Instinct” Echo gets imprinted as the mother of a baby whose real mother died giving birth. (The father, too grief-stricken to love the baby himself, had turned to the Dollhouse to provide the infant with someone who could give it everything he needed.) When the father gets cold feet and tries to call off the engagement, we everybody learns the hard way that maternal instinct isn’t so easy for Topher to wipe away. Side note: a lot of people think that Eliza Dushku’s the weak link in the cast, and that she doesn’t have the versatility to play Echo. Well, I don’t know about that, but I must admit that she did a great job portraying the panic and terror of a mother losing her child. It was really quite affecting, I thought. Meanwhile, Madeline (the former active known as November) pays a visit to the Dollhouse for her post-release check-up, which is really just a way for Adelle to keep tabs on her. In the process, she runs into Paul, whom she of course doesn’t recognize, and also witnesses one of Echo’s more, er, colorful treatments. She remains blissfully unaware of the painful history she once shared with both of them, a seeming testament to the success of Dollhouse technology. Overall, this wasn’t a particularly strong episode, but it definitely had its moments. Even in her new incarnation of Madeline, Miracle Laurie is still a joy to watch.

2.03 “Belle Chose” Now, I really liked this episode a lot. It featured two separate, seemingly unrelated engagements that ended up converging in a hideous and hilarious way. The first is your basic fantasy fulfillment engagement, with Echo being turned into a bimb-tastic sorority girl named Kiki at the request of a creepy old lit professor. The second one involves a Rossum bigwig calling in a favor with Adelle, and she imprints Victor with the guy’s serial-killer nephew in an effort to locate his victims. When Boyd pulls Paul off of Echo’s engagement to use his FBI profiling on serial-killer-Victor, his reaction is hilarious; completely unnerved by “Kiki”, he says in a dazed kind of voice, “A serial killer? Thank god!” Unfortunately, the real killer’s uncle springs the killer-imprinted Victor from the DH and inadvertently lets him loose on society. Desperate to control the situation, Adelle forces Topher to attempt a tricky remote wipe of Victor that ends up short-circuiting the entire active grid. In all the confusion, Echo’s and Victor’s imprints get crossed: she becomes the insane killer hell-bent on finishing what he started and poor Victor becomes the flighty party-girl, shaking his thang all over an LA club. The results are both frightening (in Echo’s case) and hilarious (in Victor’s). This episode really showcased Enver Gjokaj’s many talents as an actor. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but I really like this guy. I think he’s the best of all the dolls at really embodying each new character he’s given in a totally believable way, even when it’s something as ridiculous as Kiki, or intense as the serial killer. Plus, he’s totally adorable! I hope we get to see much more of him in the future.

Overall, I think this show’s greatest strength is also its greatest weakness: it’s complex to the point of being unwieldy. It’ll never be mainstream or popular, because it’s really not for the casual viewer. Its greatest hope for survival is to garner enough of a fringe, cult following to buoy it up. Well, here’s hoping!

Oh, and I also thought I'd post the link to this video recap of season one, which is a little long but does an excellent job of bringing together the most compelling elements of the first season and setting us up for furutre developments.

Austen's Persuasion is passable

2009-10-11T08:13:00.000-07:00

Back in February I made the somewhat belated new year’s resolution that by the time 2010 rolls around I will have finished reading all six of Austen’s novels. To be perfectly frank, this decision was prompted in large part by a delightfully adorable film called The Jane Austen Book Club, which convinced me, among other things, that having read all six of them was either an essential part of my female education or, at the very least, a worthwhile endeavor. It actually wasn’t that daunting of an undertaking, as I’d already read half of them and only had three more to go. Unfortunately the first of the remaining three that I read rather put me off the whole idea. Let’s just say that Mansfield Park won’t be making my top ten list. The arrival of fall, however, has reminded me of my resolution, and that I have only a few months in which to read the final two. And so I cranked through Persuasion last month, and was quite pleased to find it much more enjoyable than MP. If I had to describe the novel in as many words as its title is long, that one word would be “pleasant”. Definitely not as brilliant or hilarious as Emma, nor as dramatic or sweeping as Pride and Prejudice, but overall a very enjoyable story expressed with all the piercing clarity and wit that generally characterize Austen’s novels.

Persuasion features Anne Elliot, the daughter of a noble family who, despite her rank and wealth, has never married despite reaching the lofty age of twenty-seven. Her immediate family are a rather proud and foolish lot who don’t really know how to value Anne’s modesty and good sense. In fact, the only person who really estimates Anne’s true worth is her good friend Lady Russell, an acquaintance of her late mother. The story begins when Anne’s father, who has exceeded his rather generous income, deigns to rent out their estate to another family while her removes himself to Bath. Anne is quite shocked to learn that their new tenants are the relations of a certain individual with whom she was once very intimately acquainted. They were engaged to be married many years ago, but she had broken it off at the disapproval of her family and the advice of Lady Russell, who strongly disapproved. The man, a naval officer named Wentworth, felt wronged and betrayed and cut off all contact with Anne, seemingly forever. Now that circumstances have brought them together again after ten years’ separation, Anne must go through the painful exercise of facing a man who has risen to success and made his fortune while she herself has shrunk to the relative social obscurity of an unhappily unmarried woman, and of enduring the cold politeness of the resentful man she once rejected but never truly stopped loving.

A large part of my enjoyment of this novel stemmed the fact that Austen does an excellent job of building the emotional suspense leading up to the reunion of Anne and Captain Wentworth, and of maintaining it all throughout their painfully awkward subsequent encounters. It’s all the more agonizing to think of them both suffering such strong feelings while maintaining the front (to themselves and to the general company, ignorant of their history) of indifference and disinterest. That two people who were once so silly-in-love should now be reunited only to be perpetually estranged! It’s all very dramatic and heart wrenching, of course. And of course there’s also a happy ending, as with all Austen’s novels, and Anne and Wentworth do finally come to understand one another once again, having both grown into somewhat wiser and more mature individuals than they were when they first knew each other. Yet stories like these usually hinge less on the destination of marital bliss than on the course of the journey that leades there, and Persuasion is no different.

What I liked about this book was that both of the main characters have healthy flaws to grapple with before they can achieve their happily-ever-after. Perhaps Anne is a little bit on the long-suffering side, but to nowhere near the ridiculous degree of the frustratingly saintly Fanny Price, for example. I like that by the end of the book both Anne and Wentworth come to realize that if they’d been a little less foolish (she more discerning and he more forgiving and understanding) then would probably have spared themselves years of unhappiness. My one complaint about the novel is that I think it was hampered by the lack of any real communication between the two main characters for almost the entire duration of the story. I guess I felt that their estrangement was drawn out too long and then resolved a tad too quickly. Still, I enjoyed this book. I rooted for its characters. I had fun reading it. It definitely wasn’t my favorite Austen novel (so far), but it was still pretty good. Serviceable.

Oh, and since I forgot to work a quote in there somewhere, I’ll just awkwardly tack one on to the end of this review, kay? So here’s Anne pondering the potential pitfalls of poetry (alliteration totally not intended):

It was the misfortune of poetry to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone could estimate it truly, were the very feelings which ought to taste it but sparingly.

Whatever Austen may be writing, the gal certainly has a way with words, doesn’t she?

Sand Chronicles, vol. 6: the emotional roller coaster continues

2009-10-10T12:29:00.000-07:00

And so, four months after the release of volume five, Viz finally publishes the sixth volume of this award-wining series, which is so dense and poignant for a shoujo title. And don’t let the cover image (which depicts a laughing, carefree, happy-go-lucky Ann and Fuji having the time of their life) fool you; as always, Hinako Ashihara manages to draw readers through the emotional wringer with all the angsty turmoil in volume six. Yet the conflict rarely feels overly manufactured or contrived for the sake of cheating readers into the emotions. The characters are genuine and complex, and while the overall feel of the story is very subdued and melancholic, it has some very thoughtful, sensitive, and truly touching moments.

Summer, Age 18: This volume is divided into two chapters that focus on the summer and winter of Ann’s eighteenth year, respectively. In the first part, Ann and Fuji take a trip to Izu with their Tokyo friends to get away from the city and do some studying (they’re preparing for their college entrance exams). Ann has finally decided to start dating Fuji, but they’re taking it very slowly. After everything that happened with Daigo she’s not quite ready to dive into another intense relationship, but she does want to move on and continue living her life. Unfortunately, when she hears the rumor from Shimane about Daigo dating Ayumu (remember that pushy trouble-maker from volume one?), all the pain comes rushing back to her and we see that despite her cheerful front, she hasn’t moved on at all. Meanwhile, her Tokyo friends are all convinced things are moving way too slowly with her and Fuji and decide to take matters into their own hands. And so, feeling hurt and raw and finding herself constantly thrown together with Fuji in Izu, she ends up sleeping with him for the first time. Afterwords, she realizes that as much as she likes Fuji, a part of her has just been using him to ease the pain of her separation from Daigo. For a girl who already has self-esteem issues, this is a pretty heavy realization. (I used the person it would hurt the most… But, I needed someone to rescue me so badly… When it comes to causing people pain, I’m the expert.)

I have to say, I was pretty disappointed in Ann at this point. I mean, the whole reason she broke up with Daigo was because she felt guilty about the emotional strain she was putting on him by needing to be “rescued” from her personal demons, and by depending on him to save her when she couldn’t really be saved. And now she’s doing the same thing with Fuji, whom she doesn’t even love in the same way. On the other hand, she does seem to recognize her own failings (indeed, nobody’s harder than her than she is on herself), and she genuinely wants to become a stronger person. Yet with the powerful negative example of her own mother’s suicide, and in light of her recent struggles, she’s finding it difficult to maintain hope that she will ever be able to change.

Winter, Age 18: This chapter takes place half a year later and focuses on more of the peripheral characters. Fuji convinces Shika to come clean with their mother about the secret that has driven the three of them apart for so long. This is a huge deal for Shika, and will probably go a long way towards her getting her life back in order, and yet she still hasn’t forgiven herself for the way she took her resentment out on Ann and Daigo the previous year. So she decides to escape her sheltered life in Shimane and spend some time studying abroad. She writes to Ann from Canada, and the two start to rekindle their erstwhile friendship. I think this is a good example of a certain strength and resilience of Shika’s that Ann lacks. They both have these really emotionally scarring experiences in their pasts, and they’ve both hurt people they care about in different ways as a result. They both want to mature into stronger individuals, but Shika’s the one with the chutzpah to actually do something about it. It must have taken a lot of courage for a sheltered girl like her to venture alone into a foreign country, but ultimately I think it will strengthen her.

Of course, Ann’s got a lot on her plate right now, and can’t exactly drop everything and move to Canada. In addition to her college entrance exams, she also discovers that her father and his “friend” Kaede are really more than just friends – and Kaede’s pregnant! I really liked this side story because we got a deeper look at Kaede’s character (she’s been around since volume two), and even a glimpse into her relationship with Miwako (Ann’s mother) and Ann’s father when they were younger. That’s what I like about this series: all the character’s are three-dimensional, not just the main ones. Ann’s relationship with Kaede is pretty good, so this is generally happy news for her, if a little surprising. She’s been so wrapped up in her own problems she hasn’t really noticed what’s been going on right in front of her. I also liked the part when Ann’s grandparents came to the city from Shimane to greet Kaede formally. The grandmother especially is great; if Ann’s looking for a strong female role model, she need look no further.

As for Daigo, we don’t really see much of him this volume. He’s been studying like crazy to try to bring his grades up and get into college, and Ayumu’s been helping him out nonstop. She’s really not as bad a person as we’d been lead to believe in volume one, and she’s grown up a lot since then. She still has a thing for Daigo, but of course he’s still hung up on Ann. Fuji, meanwhile, has come to understand that no matter how hard he tries he will never mean as much to Ann as Daigo did, and the two finally come clean to each other about their feelings in the last scene of the volume. She thanks him and apologizes for everything. He reminds her of how she helped him when nobody else could (by which I assume he means that time he ran away a few years previously). He hugs her and tells her that somewhere out there is a person who will make her happier than he or Daigo ever could. Ann thinks about how even among the millions of people in the world, nobody could possibly be as kind as Fuji or make her feel as special as Daigo. And I tear up just a little bit.

Ah, Sand Chronicles, you always get to me. In a world of manga where many series are hard to read because they’re contrived and shallow and gratuitous, this one is hard to read because it’s intense and painful and real.

TV pairings: an evolutionary study

2009-10-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

I realize that the title of this post might seem a little heavy-worded, but I really couldn’t really think of a good way to summarize this topic. Hopefully my meaning will become clear once I explain it a bit more. I got the idea to write this post last month, when some of the fall primetime premiers prompted me to reflect on one of the things I love most about the open-ended, multi-season format of US television: the evolution of TV relationships. By that I mean the inherent possibility of the medium to slow development of relationships over long periods of time, allowing viewers to watch them change drastically from what they originally were and grow slowly towards what they will become. This cannot be achieved in the same way in other media such as movies, dramas, or miniseries, which are more limited in scope. Of course these kinds of developments are a long time in the making, and aren’t usually the main focus of a given show on an episode-to-episode basis, but sometimes the emotional payoff is just that much greater in the end. Yet whenever shows alter the relationships between main characters they the risk of changing the characters themselves too drastically, which is never a good thing. You don’t want to see a beloved character going against the grain for no good reason. And yet it can be such fun to watch them cope with the awkward, uncomfortable realization that they’re seeing things (and people) in a new and different light. It’s a high-stakes game that sometimes backfires on writers, and sometimes makes for the most interesting and enjoyable television out there. If this isn’t making any sense yet, please bear with me, and hopefully it will.

You may have noticed that the title of this post reads “TV pairings” and not “TV relationships in general” and that’s because I’m going to focus on the romantic ones. More specifically, I’d really like to talk about something I refer to as "evolved pairings", which I define as TV pairings that occur some time relatively late in a series between two central characters who were not previously romantically linked. That might sound kind of specific, but it’s actually a relatively common trend. Yet I’m not just talking about couples with lots of romantic vibes who somehow manage to keep delaying the inevitable (à la Luke and Lorelai); I'm talking about the ones that somehow come together after having a decidedly un-romantic relationship for a long time. So if we were to take Friends as an as an example, Monica and Chandler would be an evolved pairing whereas Ross and Rachel would not. While Ross and Rachel were highly anticipated right from the series' pilot, Monica and Chandler would have been impossible for season one viewers to predict. When relationships start changing in a series, as Monica's and Chandler's did in season 5 of Friends, it can be a lot of fun for long-time viewers who know all their history. And so this was a really long intro for my topic, but today I'd like to talk about some "evolved pairings" that I've really gotten on board with in the past.

Buffy & Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer): The first example on my list of awesome evolved pairings is a little on the old side, relatively speaking (the show’s been off air for over six years), but it’s a classic example and one of my favorites. Spike was introduced as a major villain to Buffy’s hero in season 2, but he would eventually become something much less easily defined; he was extremely popular with fans and became first a recurring character in seasons 3-4 and then a leading role in seasons 5-7. Over the years, Spike was slowly given tons of backstory and meaty development, and I still consider him to be the most complex and compelling character in Buffyverse. He’s in turns hilarious, sympathetic, and downright pathetic. In one of the most famously quotable shows of all time, Spike often had the best lines. One of his most well-known utterances is this: “Love isn’t brains, children. It’s blood… I may be love’s bitch, but at least I’m man enough to admit it.” (Ha! He’s not even talking about Buffy in this one, but it’s still great, no?) Of the two, Spike is definitely the first to develop romantic feelings for Buffy, slowly (and painfully) falling for her over the course of season 5, and it’s quite a long time before she sees him as anything but a monster. When I say that the Buffy/Spike pairing works, I don’t mean that they have a happy ending, because they don’t. I just mean that they had great chemistry, and that for a couple that started out on opposite sides of nearly everything they had a relationship that people really cared about and wanted to see happen. Yes, it was painful at times, and yes it went some really weird places (season 6, anyone?), but ultimately it was one of the things that made the show so popular. It’s amazing to think about where they started out in season 2, and where they ended up five years later in the series finale, and the epic journey that happend in between.

Barney & Robin (How I Met Your Mother): This example is a bit more contemporary than the first, as the show is still airing, and one of it’s hottest topics right now is the couple in question. Robin is first introduced to the show as the primary love interest for main character Ted in seasons 1 and 2 (although it’s revealed in the pilot that she is not the titular “Mother” of Ted’s future children, to whom future Ted narrates the entire series). Barney, meanwhile, is Ted’s eccentric and totally hilarious friend, who also happens to be a shameless womanizer. Although Barney is primarily played for laughs (Neil Patrick Harris is a hoot), what really makes him interesting are his rare flashes of real sensitivity. This includes the way he deeply and very genuinely cares about his friends, for example, and of course his feelings for Robin. After their spontaneous, "one-time-only" hookup in season 3, it was tremendous fun to watch the skirt-chasing Barney struggle to accept that there’s a girl 1) whom he actually wants to sleep with a second time, 2) whom he doesn’t like to see with other guys, 3) who is also one of his closest friends, and 4) not to mention, their mutual friend’s ex. Poor guy! For her part, Robin's also kind of a one-in-a million character: a "sophisticated, scotch-swilling, cigar-smoking, red-meat-eating, gun-toting New Yorker” who's also very loveable, and Canadian. We're supposed to believe that in a bizarre way, they're actually kind of perfect for each other. Does it work? I actually think this one's a bit of a stretch, but I'm willing to go along with it becase it's just so much fun and I adore this show. (Btw, this recap clip does a much better job of summing up their relationship than I did.)

Logan & Veronica (Veronica Mars): Man, this was such a great show. And one of the great things about it (but certainly not the only great thing) was all the Logan/Veronica LoVe that happened. She's the petite, blonde, tough-as-nails, hardboiled teen detective with all the quippy one-liners. He's the spoiled, rich bully with an abusive past and deep-rooted insecurities. Their relationship - is complicated. You can read a 5,000-word summary of it on wikipedia. All I'm going to say here is that in spite of Veronica introducing him to us as her school's "obligatory psychotic jackass" in the pilot voice-over, they actually turned out to share a very intense, and often quite sad, but totally awesome relationship. Now that's what I call relationship evolution.

Blair & Chuck (Gossip Girl): I actually almost didn't include this one since they first hooked up kind of early on (half-way through season one). Yet if you just look at the show within the context of that first season, it works. They didn’t officially get together until much later, and, more importantly, their pairing caught me completely off guard, and then really swept me up in its intensity and general epic-ness. Considering these two weren’t even on each other’s radar at first, I’d say they’ve earned their spot on this list. Blair is the quintessential Upper East Side princess (rich, controlling, self-centered), but with her own share of insecurities and a fighting spirit it’s hard not to admire. It’s not until her perfect little world starts to crumble that she first turns to Chuck for comfort. She and Chuck have always known each other (the UES set is an small and exclusive one), but he was definitely not part of her plan. He’s kind of a wonanizer, and just about the only person on earth who’s as manipulative as she is. Unsurprisingly, their first fling ends rather messily, but that doesn’t mean the feelings weren’t real. Quite the contrary, especially on his part. I really liked their storyline back in those days. They’re both interesting characters, and it was really fun to watch them together; they had this great rapport, and even when they were being truly horrible to each other you knew that deep down they really cared. Unfortunately, I think that their storyline, like the show itself, has gotten a lot less exciting over the past season. These days, I’m mainly watching for the fashions.

Lois & Clark (Smallville): Okay, so Lois Lane and Clark Kent are one of the most iconic couples in the cannon. So what, you might ask, are they doing on a list of romantic relationships that develop from strictly unromantic ones? Because on Smallville, that’s exactly what happens. The show, as people generally know, tells the story of Superman’s youth, and is based very loosely on the Superboy Adventure Comics. When the character of Lois Lane was first introduced in season 4, her relationship with Clark was quite different from the one we all know and love from the Superman cannon. They shared a sort of grudging respect, but for the most part they just annoyed each other. It was almost like a brother-sister kind of vibe. And yet over the past five years they’ve been slowly but steadily growing closer in a way that’s been really great to watch. Smallville’s definitely a story with an endgame, but that certainly doesn’t mean there’s no dramatic suspense. The whole premise of Smallville is to show how things were before they got to be the way we know, and the show often does so in unexpected ways, especially with Lois and Clark. The development of their relationship has been, in my opinion, THE highlight of the series, especially recently. When I remember how little I cared for this show in its earlier seasons, it’s amazing how much I now anticipate each week’s episode. And I think the Lois/Clark relationship has a lot to do with that.

There are probably lots of other TV pairings that fall into this category, but these are the ones I thought of first and the ones to which I’ve paid the most attention recently. Besides, this post has gotten kind of long and I’m kind of burnt out.

Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins

2009-10-03T07:20:00.000-07:00

One quick note before I jump right into the review: I just want to say right up front that I’m going to do a horrible job of summarizing this book. Although it’s not very long, it is very plot-driven, and full of twists and turns and revelations. Additionally, many of the story’s essential elements hinge on the complex practices of Collins’ futuristic world and require too many explanations for a short review of this nature. Okay, disclaimer over.

Just because I am no longer a teenager (hey, it hasn’t even been two months, back off already!) doesn’t mean I’m too old to read YA fiction. Which is a darned good thing because Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins’ sequel to last year’s The Hunger Games and the second book in a planned trilogy, just came out a few weeks ago, and it’d be a shame to have outgrown fast, fun reads like this one.

Catching Fire picks up shortly after the conclusion of The Hunger Games with Katniss and Peeta, now Victors, struggling to readjust to life in District Twelve, and finding that things will never be the same again, for them or for anyone else. Their dual victory in the Games was pretty much a miracle, but now they have to figure out how to live their new lives, and Katniss is only just beginning to learn the full ramifications of her actions. Her elaborate deception (which ensured her and Peeta’s survival in the last book) has seriously compromised her relationships with both Peeta and Gale, and she now finds herself more alone than ever. Yet as a Victor, the consequences of her actions extend far beyond her personal life, and she begins to hear rumors and whispers of desperation and rebellion in some of the other districts. All of this plays out in the first third of the novel, at which point the next year’s Games roll around and the plot suddenly takes off like a bat out of hell, and doesn’t let up right until the very cliff-hangery ending.

On Katniss, the protagonist: Ok, this girl can be really dense sometimes, and she’s got about the emotional comprehension of a toothpick. I know she doesn’t mean to be insensitive to Gale or Peeta’s feelings; she just doesn’t know how to deal with them like a normal person. She’s spent so much of her life focused solely on survival that she hasn’t had a lot of time for emotional development. Still, it gets kind of frustrating when she’s got these too guys who are clearly nuts about her and she persists in blindly ignoring the complications of the situation.

On the action factor: I’m not sure if this book falls more into the fantasy or sci-fi genre, but it certainly has a lot of action. The Games are quite violent, but they’re not just a mindless bloodbath. It’s as much of a mind game as anything else. Collins really does an excellent job with the action sequences, and they’re always imaginative, entertaining, and well orchestrated.

On the funky names: While some fantasy authors are really good at creating made-up proper nouns that are also believable, this is not exactly Collins’ strong point. Katniss, Peeta, Panem – they’re all kind of awkward and just a bit lame. At the same time, some of the names are quite ordinary – Gale, Johanna, President Snow. I guess, since this world is supposed to be a futuristic version of North America, some of the old names survived and some new ones emerged.

In general: Both THG and CF are the kind of books that I can enjoy thoroughly (albeit briefly), but which I do not necessarily admire completely. They careen along at a break-neck, plot-driven pace that leaves in the dust any possibility for depth of characterization or sophistication of language. With a noticeable amount of grammatical errors (mostly of the who/whom variety), and a present-tense narrative voice (a pet peeve of mine), Collins writing strikes me as particularly unexciting, even for a YA novel. That being said, Collins has some serious story-telling chops, and her books are sky-high on the entertainment factor. The fact that I plunked down $18 for each book, in spite of their many eye-roll-inducing moments, is testament enough to the magnetic pull of the story. These books are a movie franchise just waiting to happen.

Final word: I try to incorporate at least one quote each book into my reviews, just to give a tiny taste of the text, but I found it difficult to choose a good one from this book (see above on Collins' unexciting prose). However, I did managed to find one that I thought worth highlighting: "As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter to the floor. This seems appropriate, since I have obviously lost my grip on everything." - from Chapter 13 of Catching Fire.

First volumes of Sarasah, Ooku: The Inner Chambers

2009-09-29T21:05:00.001-07:00

It’s been a while since I’ve written about any manga or manhwa, except for the volumes I covered briefly in my summer summary, so here are the first volumes of two new series from Yen Press and Viz.

Sarasah is written and illustrated by Ryu Ryang and licensed in English by Yen Press. This manhwa tells the story of an obsessive, love-struck teenager named Ji-Hae, whose unrestrained and unwanted attentions kind of push the crazy-stalker envelope. The real story begins, however, on the day the disgusted object of her unbridled affection, a callous pretty boy named Seung-Hyu, accidentally pushes her down a flight of stairs in a careless attempt to brush her off. When some of the guardians of the afterlife (sorry, I don’t know a better way to describe these characters) find Ji-Hae’s spirit hovering between the realms of life and death, they’re not quite sure what to do with her. They’re convinced it’s not yet her time to die, but they don’t know what she’s doing there. On hearing her story, however, they become interested, and decide to send her back in time to the Shilla dynasty, when both she and Seung-Hyu lived as previous incarnations of themselves. And so Ji-Hae embarks on a time-traveling, body-snatching, cross-dressing journey in an attempt to fix whatever went wrong between the two of them the first time around. But it’s not going to be nearly as easy as she thought, as complication after complication ensues.

Ok, so this was a total impulse buy for me. I was browsing through the aisles of Barnes and Noble, with a brand new gift card burning a hole in my pocket, when I saw this title and just decided to buy it on the spot. I’d never heard of the series or the author, but the story looked unusual and interesting, and I’m always keen to try new manhwa. Since purchasing it, I’ve read a lot of negative reviews of this volume from various bloggers. They don’t like the main character, they’re uncomfortable with her crazy obsession with Seung-Hyu, they don’t like the way she’s drawn, etc. I can definitely understand these sentiments (Ji-Hae is kind a of tough pill to swallow, especially in the first chapter), but I was actually pleasantly surprised by this volume as a whole. Yes, Ji-Hae has some serious issues, but she’s young and has lots of room to grow, which I’m hoping will happen over the course of her journey. If she undergoes no character development at all that could be a deal-breaker for the series, but if not it’ll be really interesting to see. Judging from the artwork and overall execution, this is definitely a more juvenile series. Yet the story is intriguing enough that I’m anxious to see where it goes next. So although volume one of Sarasah was kind of a mixed bag, the positive elements outweighed the negative ones for me. I think this series has potential.

Unlike with Sarasah, the release of the first volume of Ooku: The Inner Chambers was something I had looked forward to for months in advance. There had been a lot of buzz in the manga blogging sphere about the licensing of this new, award-winning manga from legendary author Fumi Yoshinaga (creator of Antique Bakery and Flower of Life), and I was kind of caught up in the anticipation. The word “Ooku” in the title (pronounced OH-ku, not oo-ku) refers to the “inner chambers” of the shogun’s palace, where his harem resided and where no man but him could enter. In this series, Yoshinaga creates an intriguing alternate version of Edo Japan, in which a noxious plague has wiped out most of the male population, leaving the women to assume the positions of power traditionally held by men. The shogun is a woman, therefore, and the Inner Chambers are filled with handsome men. The first volume focuses on a handsome young man named Yunoshin who enters the Inner Chambers in order to provide for his family but soon finds that for all its opulence and luxury the Inner Chambers can be a dangerous and lonely place. Towards the end of volume one, the narration shifts to focus more on Yoshimune, the new female shogun who seeks to challenge established rules and question the order of this new society.

While I wasn’t as completely blown away by Ooku as I expected to be, plotwise, I found the execution and artwork intriguing enough to keep me interested in future volumes. It certainly is a very ambitious work, compared to a lot of other manga I read, and there’s a lot there to draw one in. I especially liked the way Yoshinaga seemlessly incorporated such a complete and total gender reversal into her alternative Edo-verse: the women holding all politically significant offices and the men treated for the most part as sexual objects to be bought and sold. The artwork was also quite stunning – not as ornate and extravagant as Bride of the Water God by a long shot – but very impressive in its own way nonetheless. Yet although the premise was fascinating, the dialogue compelling, and the artwork brilliant, the character of Yunoshin felt very bland, kind of neutralizing my enjoyment of much of the first volume. Shogun Yoshimune, however, was very interesting, and I’m quite pleased that it looks like we’ll be seeing much more of her in the future. Overall, volume one of Ooku gave me a lot to think about, and I’ll definitely be checking out volume two, even though it wasn’t quite what I expected.

One last note about Ooku: the translation was pretty terrible. I wouldn’t expect it from such a new edition, but it was bad. The original was written in an archaic form of Japanese, and the translators tried to preserve the effect by throwing in lots of Shakespearian words and expressions with very unnatural, awkward results. Also, with the emphasis on gender reversal and the exploration of feudal sexual politics, this was definitely a more - er - adult manga than what I usually read. And I don’t have a problem with that, per se, the dialogue of Ooku had way more casual, offhand references to a man’s “seed” than should be found in any one volume of historical manga, in my opinion.

Tamna the Island, episodes 1-10

2009-09-18T22:24:00.000-07:00

Oooh, I have such unabashed puppy love for this currently airing MBC drama. It’s not a life-altering, “forever” kind of love – more like just a very serious crush. Which is why it’s such a gosh-darn shame that, in light of the show’s consistently poor ratings, its broadcasting network decided to cut it down from its originally planned 20 episodes to 16. What that means is that because the final 10 episodes had fo0r the most part already been shot, they had to be cut down into a mere six. Needless to say, fans are pissed at the prospect of watching a heavily edited and significantly reduced second half of a series in which they’ve already become emotionally invested. So much of the story must get lost in the condensing of ten hours of material into six! And so, in spite of my love for this drama, I stopped watching after episode ten (the last episode to be aired in its original, unedited form.) I feel that it would be better to wait for the full version (which will eventually air in other countries and be released on DVD) than to watch a chopped-up, mutilated version of it now. And so to reconcile myself with the idea of going completely cold turkey on this drama (for now at least), I decided to write this post all about how freakin’ adorable it is.

Tamna the Island (also known as “Shipwrecked!” or “Tempted Again”) is based on an ongoing soonjung manhwa of the same name and takes place during the Joseon era on an island province called Tamna (present day Jeju Island). Since Tamna historically has a kind of niche culture distinct from mainland Joseon society, a brief explanation ought to precede any discussion of this drama. 17th-century Tamna was kind of like the sticks of Joseon: a remote, uncivilized, backwater region. Nevertheless, the island was valued (and heavily taxed) by the government for its natural resources, most of which came from the sea. In a kind of reversal of traditional gender roles, the women of the island dove for abalone while the men stayed home and managed the households. The female divers, who performed difficult and undesirable work, were not allowed to leave Tamna, and were indentured to the island for life. Also, because Westerners were about as common in Tamna as aliens, any who appeared there were generally viewed as freaks and treated as criminals, even to the point of being arrested, sent to the capital, and executed. One last important aspect of 17th-century Tamna is that it was the place where political offenders were exiled by the mainland government in much the same way criminals of the British Empire were sent to Australia. People who watch a lot of sageuk (period) dramas should recognize this practice. (Remember how Jang-Geum was banished there on a trumpted up charge in Dae Jang Geum?)

And so, with the stage thus set, the drama tells the story of an English castaway who washes ashore on Tamna. Fortunately for young William, he is found and hidden by a young female diver named Jang Beo-Jin. Despite the language and cultural barrier, the two form a very sweet and innocent friendship. Around the same time, an arrogant and scholarly young noble man named Park Kyu arrives from Han Yang (the capital), having been recently exiled to Tamna, and is given to the care of Beo-Jin’s mother, the head diver of the village. The story of how these three characters collide and come together against the odds in 17th-century Tamna provides for plenty of humor and drama in this unique and fun series.
Pierre Deporte (Korean name Hwang Chan-Bin) as William. Honestly, this guy’s acting takes a lot of getting used to, and even then can be accepted only with a huge grain of salt. And yet I’m prepared to do all this and more, because I like the character so much. He’s a little hard to take at firs, what with his fake blonde hair and even faker English, but as soon as the character starts “learning” Korean (the actor’s pretty fluent) it gets so much better. William may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he has a sweet, innocent charm about him that completely won me over. It’s fun to watch him and Beo-Jin together because even though they’re a kind of oddly matched pair, they’re basically each other’s first loves, and it really is quite sweet. Plus, it’s hard for me to ignore the fact that this is quite possibly the first time a White person has ever been portrayed in such a positive light in a drama, not to mention taken on a leading role. The drama does a great job, I thing, of incorporating his character in a way that’s both sensitive and intriguing, in spite of the bad hair and accent. For instance, look at this bit of dialogue from episode 5, in which William discusses with his sailor friend a misunderstanding that occurred between him and Park Gyu:

William: Park Gyu… He looked at me like I was a bad person. I think he misunderstood something. I was just trying to save her-
Yan: Don’t expect these people to understand you. You’re just a freak to them.
William: Why do they hate me?
Yan: Joseon has always been a closed country. The locals are afraid of foreigners and try to kill them.
William: I don’t understand. Beo-Jin isn’t like that.
Yan: Yeah, well, she’s a weird one.
William: No, she’s not strange.
Yan: Don’t get too attatched. Sooner or later you’ll have to leave this place.

Seo Woo as Jang Beo-Jin. I don’t have a whole lot to say about the actress, except that she does a great job of bringing a nice, youthful energy to her character without being annoyingly over-spunky or cutesy. Beo-Jin has a wonderfully, open, straightforward, and caring nature that leads her to instantly and wholeheartedly accept William as a basically good person, and to defend him against those who might reject him for being different. I guess she knows how it feels to be different as well. As an unskilled, low-level diver indentured to the island for life, she’s somewhat of a black sheep in her village. She’s always dreamed of leaving Tamna, and in a way William opens up for her the possibility of a world beyond the island’s shores.

Im Ju-Hwan as Park Gyu. Ok, I like the rest of the cast, but I absolutely love Im Ju-Hwan as Park Gyu. I wasn’t really expecting much from this relatively inexperienced model-turned-actor, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s the real standout of the drama. He may be askinny guy with delicate features, but the dude’s got this beautifully deep, manly voice, and totally OWNS his character. As the city-reared scholar-noble, he’s initially dismayed to find himself exiled to the backwaters of Tamna at the beginning of the drama and entrusted to the care of lowly peasants who don’t show him the respect he so obviously deserves! It’s hilarious, really. Nobody really knows the details of his crime, but there’s a persistent rumor that it has something to do with harassing women. Ha! Of course, there’s more to him than initially meets the eye, and we eventually learn (spoiler alert) that he’s actually an undercover official sent to Tamna by the government on a secret mission. Although initially unimpressed with the uncivilized island society and the uncouth Beo-Jin, he slowly comes to respect, admire, and even love both. Im Ju-Hwan is so awesome in this role. He makes the character endearing and funny, but also anchors it with some very deeply felt, vulnerable moments; when he tears up on screen it’s so good I just want to die. You can bet your bottom dollar that if Im Ju-Hwan appears in another drama in the future I’ll be all over it like white on rice.

Before I go any further, I have to say that yes, this drama does feature two guys falling for the same girl, but there’s so much else going on, and each individual relationship between these three people is so distinct and well-developed, and intriguing, that what romantic conflict there is never feel clichéd or contrived or cheap. I just think this drama’s got a whole heck of a lot going for it. Being based on a long-running manhwa gives it extensive source material to work with, and the story’s been really well adapted by the production team. (There are some other manga/manhwa-turned-dramas where this has not been the case. Boys Over Flowers springs directly to mind.) The Tamna setting also differentiates the drama from other fusion sageuks out there and allows for a fresh and unique kind of story. The scenery is breathtaking, and as for the music, this is the first OST I’ve been interested in for a while. It just baffles me that this drama’s been getting such poor ratings. Oh well. I’m really impatient to watch the second part of the series, but I’ve liked the first ten episodes too much to feel ok about watching a condensed version of the last ten. Sometimes it’s the little moments that really make a drama worthwhile, and I’m afraid those are the ones that will get lost in the re-editing. So I’ll just wait. Yet in spite of the fiasco MBC’s caused in this drama’s run, I’m still glad I tuned in for the first half. I enjoyed it that much.

Some music from the soundtrack:

이어사나 (Ending Theme) - Jane Park

Your Tears (Main Theme) - Jane Park

True Blood 2.12 "Beyond Here Lies Nothin' "

2009-09-16T12:40:00.000-07:00

The above picture shows the cameo appearance of Charlaine Harris, author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, in the season two finale of "True Blood", the HBO show based on said novels. Since I've been watching this show pretty religiously all summer, I just wanted to put in my two cents about the season finale. I found this episode to be a rather lackluster conclusion to what was nevertheless a really great sophomore season. If the episode itself was a bit of a let down, it was probably due largely to the fact that my expectations were so high, and in any case there certainly were plenty of intriguing hints/cliffhangers to invest people (and me) in the wait for season three.

The first half of the episode focused on the conclusion of the Maryann conflict, and culminated in her final defeat at the hands of Bill, Sam, and Sookie. With Sam’s shapeshifting abilities, Sookie’s mysterious and unreliable supernatural powers, a deeper understanding of what a maenad really is, and a little bit of clever trickery, the three are able to finally defeat her and thereby save the good people of Bon Temps from themselves. I must say, I’m going to miss Maryann. Or rather, I’m going to miss Michelle Forbes, who always played her with wickedly irresistible charm and a brilliant touch of craziness. On the other hand, the time had come for her to die; her character was this season’s big “undefeatable” adversary, so at the end of the season she had to be defeated of course.

The second half of the episode shows the aftermath Maryann’s mayhem and also leads into several storylines for season three. Most of the residents of Bon Temps are in denial about what happened, while Jason and Andy congratulate themselves on being heroes (although they didn’t really do anything but get possessed themselves, but hey, A for effort boys!) The one person who really can’t handle the truth about what he did under the influence of Maryann is Eggs, who completely loses it and approaches Andy with the knife he used on Daphne and others. Jason witnesses the encounter, freaks out, and shoots Eggs in the back of the head before running off. I know, I didn’t see that one coming either. Meanwhile, Sam visits his adoptive parents, the queen warns Eric (quite forcefully) not to let Bill find out too much about the blood cartel, Hoyt seeks Jessica’s forgiveness while a hurt and angry Jessica seeks out victims, and Bill proposes to Sookie before being kidnapped by a mysterious attacker. Yup, this all happens in the second half of the episode.

I have to admit that this finale left me slightly underwhelmed. I definitely expected more to come of the Sophie-Anne storyline, especially since they decided to introduce the queen so much earlier in the story than she ever appears in the books. I also had a huge problem with Bill’s big, romantic proposal to Sookie, and with her readiness (after a moment of hesitation) to accept it. I’m really trying not to compare the show to the books too much, but this scene just felt very wrong to me. I have a hard time believing that Sookie would ever really entertain the idea of marriage to Bill, especially since their relationship has such a glaringly obvious expiration date (no matter how much they don’t want to admit it.) Still, I’m interested to see how this will play out next season, because I don’t think it will ever happen. As for Bill’s kidnapper, I have a pretty good idea of who it might be, especially because while the show strays quite far from the events and characterizations of the books each new season generally retains the main conflict of each successive novel.

Overall, I feel that season two was a huge improvement over season one. While I still think that the Bill/Sookie romance is pretty weak, the show has moved away from resting solely on that concept. It’s at its best, I feel, when exploring the politics of the different supernatural communities, and the extended universe of the different characters. And so, all things considered, I’m very excited for next season. I’m hoping, as always, for lots more Eric-Pam-Fangtasia action, and I also read somewhere that there will be Weres next time around, which is super exciting. It’s also a good thing I like Anna Paquin so much because she invariably makes the Bill/Sookie pairing interesting despite all the problems I have with it.

Never judge a book (part 2 of 2): The Picture of Dorian Gray

2009-09-13T09:32:00.000-07:00

So, last time I wrote about a book that defied my low expectations by being kind of awesome. Unfortunately, that means part two of this post will focus on a book that defied my high expectations by, well, sucking majorly. I’m going to try to refrain from turning this into a long, whiney tirade about how much I hated the book, because that’s just no fun (although I make no promises). Instead, I’ll try to look at how such a great author could take such a great premise and turn it into such an un-grate novel.

I formed a favorable first impression of Oscar Wilde as a child when I read “The Happy Prince” in the Provensen Book of Fairy Tales (whose awesomeness I’ve already discussed), and I never found cause to revise my good opinion of him until now. In addition to “The Happy Prince”, a story that while perhaps a little preachy has at least the redeeming quality of being beautifully tragic, I’ve also enjoyed his plays in the past, specifically An Ideal Husband and The Importance of Being Earnest. His plays are witty, quippy, and endlessly quotable comedies of manners that rarely fail to amuse and generally delight. Wilde also wrote extensive poetry, and was an erstwhile philosopher to boot. Was there anything the guy couldn’t do? Well, write novels, apparently. After finishing the only novel he ever wrote, I can’t help but wish he’s have stuck to what he knew.

The Picture of Dorian Gray tells the story of a wealthy and beautiful young man who sits for a portrait and, on seeing the finished product, makes an impulsive wish that he might remain eternally unchanged, and that the picture might bear the mark of time in his stead. When he discovers that his bold wish has been granted (by the powers that be?) and that he has effectively sold his soul for eternal youth and beauty, he begins a double life of hedonism and excess, with only the portrait to bear the signs of his true physical and spiritual degradation. This sounds like the premise of a great gothic melodrama, right? Unfortunately, Oscar Wilde is not Mary Shelley. His dark tale of corruption still reads, on the surface at least, a lot like his drawing room comedies, with very odd results. I guess you could say that this book was tonally confused.

Yet my problems with The Picture of Dorian Gray don’t stop there. I also found the book to be quite muddled thematically. It appeared in many ways to be a cautionary tale against vanity and pride, except for the fact that the author spends a great deal of the novel waxing poetic about the philosophy of hedonism and self-indulgence. The chronology was also very rough and ready; the book consists of only a few significant evens/conversations interspersed between awkwardly long jumps in time. And perhaps my greatest complaint with the novel is that the main character is seriously underdeveloped. I’d call him one-dimensional, but honestly he’s not even that well defined. Easily swayed by the slightest influence, Dorian Gray has almost no character of his own. Conveniently spared the burden of guilt for his crimes (which the painting also assumes), he is no more capable of being satisfied with his fate than he is of truly repenting his many transgressions.

I think that, given its chronology and character development issues, The Picture of Dorian Gray could still have made a really great short story. It could have been a good novel, perhaps, if only somebody else had written it. Or maybe if Wilde had had a decent editor. As it so happens, Wilde wrote the book on his own as a full-length novel, and I thought it fell pretty flat. Sheesh, what a bummer.

One last little note in conclusion: whatever else I may say about this book, I cannot deny that, like Wilde’s other works, it is very quotable. It is chock full of witty and original remarks ("All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime"), but I believe it takes more than clever little turns of phrase to sustain a worthwhile novel.

Never judge a book (part 1 of 2): The Great Gatsby

2009-09-04T21:24:00.000-07:00

Question: Why should I never be too hasty to judge a book (by its cover or by anything else)? Two reasons: 1) The Great Gatsby, and 2) that other novel that I will be discussing in part 2 of this post. So contrary to my expectations were these two books as to prompt me to question not only my tastes in literature, but also my estimation of one of my favorite writers. When will I ever learn not to decide if I like a book before I even open it? Probably never. Darn.

Anyways, I’ll talk about The Great Gatsby first, and then about that other novel later. I ended up reading The Great Gatsby sort of by accident; I actually went to the library that day on the hunt for a completely different book. As fate would have it, the book I sought proved to be among the missing at my library, and I had to order it from another town. Unwilling to return home empty-handed, I began to wander aimlessly throughout the shelves in search of some little something to tide me over in the meantime. And that’s how I found myself in the “F” section, staring at a copy of The Great Gatsby. Now I’m a little ashamed to confess that what primarily drew me to the novel was its apparent brevity. I didn’t actually expect to like it or anything (I imagined it would be bland and unengaging), I just thought I’d be able to get through it quickly. I guess the idea was to breeze through it and then feel good about myself for having read a classic. Not very admirable, I’ll admit.

The Great Gatsby recounts the summer of 1922 as told by Nick Carraway, a young man who settles on the North Shore of Long Island and gets caught up in the lives of the wealthy, if somewhat shiftless, society that characterized the time and place. I did struggle, in the beginning, to really get into the novel. Maybe it just went right over my head at first, but it seemed to me to be a lot of random details with very little emotional content or plot. I didn’t especially want to read a book that was all atmosphere, no matter how deftly or brilliantly that atmosphere was captured. It was brilliantly crafted, though. The genius and great discipline of Fitzgerald’s prose shines through practically every sentence, such as this little gem:

Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle, but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face.

As it turns out, I only found the narrative flow to be bland and disjointed in the very beginning, before the “full picture” of the novel began to emerge and all the seemingly random details began to build upon one another to create a frenzied, tragic, and somewhat pathetic climax. I'm having difficulty articulating exactly what I mean, but I guess you could say that it started out slow but ended up being a pretty intense ride.

Anyways, getting back to the setting and atmosphere of the novel for just a moment… I’ve never been to the Hamptons (and I certainly wasn’t there in the ‘20s), but I did, just prior to reading the book, tour the Newport mansion where the 1974 film version was shot. So I already had a full, sensory conception of the backdrop of the novel, which made it that much more of a treat to read. In reading I was drawn in spite of myself into the luxurious-but-not-altogether-savory world of parties, excess, human folly, and human frailty that Fitzgerald captures so well. And while I didn’t necessarily care about the characters ad much as I might do with a more sensationalized novel, I did nevertheless empathize very strongly with them, so real were even their ugliest and most foolish emotions. I suppose I’m still grateful it was a short book, as I don’t think Fitzgerald’s style would sustain a longer novel. Overall, I thoroughly and quite unexpectedly enjoyed The Great Gatsby, a book that turned out to be not at all boring. In part 2, I’ll elaborate on a book that by all rights should have been awesome, but instead turned out to be a total drag.

“9”, film by Shane Acker finally coming to theaters!

2009-09-03T14:03:00.000-07:00

Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes! Ok, so I’m really excited for this movie. Almost two years ago someone sent me a link to a short (ten minutes) animated film by Shane Acker, entitled 9. I watched it, and was completely blown away. It was sort of like something from a person’s dream – somebody’s dark, bizarre, superawesome and intriguing dream. It was the only short film I’d ever seen that left me wanting much, much more; I felt as if ten minutes were not nearly enough to explore the universe Acker had created. You can image, therefore, how psyched I was to find out that the short was to be made into a feature-length film! And now that film is finally here! And with an amazing, all-star cast too! I’m already overdoing it with the exclamation points, and this is only how I felt before even watching the trailer!

How cool is that? 9 takes place in a sinister, postapocalyptic world where evil and frightening mechanical beasts threaten a group of sentient rag dolls who band together in an attempt to survive and find answers about themselves and the world that was. I was surprised at first that Elijah Wood was voicing 9, but I’ve come around to thinking he might be kind of perfect for the part. He can definitely do the whole earnest, innocent, underdog hero thing (à la Happy Feet, Lord of the Rings, etc) and he’s already done a lot of voice acting. Then we have Christopher Plummer as 1, coming right off his last big voice role with Pixar’s Up. He’s got a sweet voice, and I like it when he does animation, because then I can imagine the guy still looks like Captain von Trapp. I’m kind of neutral on Jennifer Connelly, but her character 7 does look pretty badass. The rest of the cast is pretty star-studded as well, but those three were the ones that jumped out at me.

One of the cool things about this film, aside from it’s unique design, is the fact that it seems to have the best action sequences I’ve ever seen in any animation anywhere. Check out this scene:

Although animated, 9 is not a kid’s movie. It’s dark and weird and features characters who fight what is essentially a losing battle. The beasts in this film are of the same brand of creepy that made the other mother in Coraline such a great villain. Check out this one, the Seamstress:

9 is directed by Shane Acker and produced by Tim Burton. In theaters September 9th. I am so there.

"And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds..."

2009-08-22T14:23:00.000-07:00

I'm not exactly sure why this is, but I've always been a sucker for a good gender-bending, cross-dressing story. Maybe it's just some sort of wierd fetish I have, but I personally can't seem to get enough of them. Yet given the proliferation of the theme across various media and cultures, I can't be the only one susceptible to that kind of fantasy. I couldn't even begin to analyze the social or psychological implications of the trend, (nor do I particularly want to; it probably has to do with some kind of wacked-out, vicarious wish fulfillment), but I do think it's interesting to step back and compare some of the different stories that fall into this category and see the kind of patterns that emerge. So in this post I'll reflect a little on some of the woman-impersonates-man stories I've consummed in the past. And hey, maybe there's somebody out there like me who also likes this sort of thing and is looking for some more examples. Heck knows, I'm always on the look-out for more gender-bending fun.

To find really classic tales of women impersonating men, one need look no further than Shakespeare, whose works abound with such characters. Rosalind of As You Like It and Viola of Twelfth Night initially spring to mind, both of whom meet their future husbands while disguised as men. These situations not only provide for lots of humor and drama, but also allow the couples to get to know and be friendly with each other in ways that would be impossible if the women’s true gender was known.

… Which brings me to the first real item on my list today: a little 2006 US film called She’s the Man. She’s the Man is one of a number of American teen movies that take classic works of literature and transplant them into a modern-day high-school setting (à la Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You). And which classic gender-bending tale does She’s the Man modernize? None other than Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. In the original play, the character of Viola (disguised as a man) is enlisted by the Duke of Orsino to help him win the hand of Lady Olivia. In acting as his intermediary, the disguised Viola not only falls in love with the Duke but also attracts the romantic attention of Olivia herself. While She’s the Man retains many of the key plot features and characters of the play, it completely overhauls the style, setting, and execution of the story. Like the play, the movie places emphasis very heavily on comedy and very lightly on dramatic tension. Actress and erstwhile comedian Amanda Bynes doesn’t make a very convincing boy, but therein lies much of the film’s humor. Watching her posture and pose and try desperately to act like “one of the dudes” is worth the price of admission alone, and practically everything out of her mouth is side-splittingly hilarious. Plus, there’s Channing Tatum to look at. Check out this awesome scene:

Yet Shakespearian heroines weren’t the first to assume male personae; the classic Chinese legend of Hua Mulan, a filial daughter who joins the all-male army in place of her ailing father and eventually becomes a great war hero, derives from a 6th century poem. The myth has survived the centuries to take on many different forms, including operas, novels, films, and television serials. Mulan became something of a household name in the US in 1998 when the story got the full Disney film treatment, complete with campy songs and wisecracking sidekick-to-heroine. While the Disney version presents a not so sensitive or subtle depiction of traditional Chinese society, this consumer still appreciates the value of the film’s dramatic and visual appeal.

Also of note is the fact that a brand new, feature length, live-action adaptation of the legend of Mulan is currently undergoing postproduction in China, where it will be released later this year. The film, starring Vicky Zhao in the titular role and Chen Kun as her love interest, was represented at this year’s Cannes film festival, where this teaser was shown. It looks to me like a pretty battle-centric war epic, but with the story of Mulan there’s always going to be some human drama and intrigue. No news on a US release yet, but here’s hoping.

Moving right along, we come to another classic gem in the gender-bender canon: the 1982 musical comedy film Victor Victoria, starring Julie Andrews, James Garner, Robert Preston, Lesley Ann Warren, and John Rhys-Davies. The movie, which takes place in 1930s Paris, features the struggling singer Victoria Grant (Andrews) and her openly gay friend Carroll “Toddy” Todd, who together concoct an unlikely get-rich scheme. The two will pretend to be gay lovers so that Victoria can become a successful female impersonator – in other words, she’ll be “a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman.” While I adore this film for many reasons (it’s originality, cleverness, winning humor, stellar cast, and great music), the main romance is not one of those reasons. I just don’t think Andrews and Garner had that much chemistry. Plus, his character never really believed “Victor” was a man, and where’s the fun in that? Still, this is a really great movie that I would recommend to just about anybody.

The next item I would like to discuss is probably my number one favorite example of cross-gender storytelling: the 17-episode kdrama Coffee Prince. Coffee Prince was a mega-hit on the trendy drama scene in the summer of 2007, and for good reason. The story and main character were unconventional (at least by kdrama standards), and the drama had a lot to offer (I felt) that many kdramas do not. Unlike the other stories in this list, the main character of this drama doesn’t need to undergo a big transformation in order to assume the guise of a man; Go Eun-Chan’s already so boyish in demeanor and dress that most people mistake her for a pretty guy anyways. Plus, Yoon Eun-Hye’s an actress who really knows how to play both sides of the gender coin. She does a fabulous job of bringing this unique and endearing character to life and of making her really believable as both a boy and a girl. I’m not a huge fan of Gong Yoo, but I really liked him in this drama. I also really liked the development of his loafer rich boy character’s relationship with the penniless and hardworking Eun-Chan. The two become unlikely friends through a series of bizarre circumstances, eventually sharing an almost younger-brother-older-brother relationship. Their friendship has its natural ups and downs, and Han-Kyul (Gong Yoo) eventually starts to question his sexuality as he finds himself more attracted to Eun-Chan, with lots of pseudo-homoerotic undercurrents resulting. Coffee Prince is just a really well-executed and engrossing drama to begin with, and any fan of gender bender stories definitely won’t want to miss out on this one. A scene from the drama:

Another recent cross-gender themed kdrama that stands in stark contrast to the trendy Coffee Prince is last year’s 20-episode sageuk (Joseon era) drama, Painter of the Wind. In this drama, cute-as-a button Moon Geun-Young plays a woman who, from a very young age, was raised as a male by her adoptive family of royal painters so that she too might achieve wealth and status as an artist (an option only available to men.) While I thought the drama itself was rather disappointing, I found the premise very intriguing. Moon’s character, Shin Yoon-Bok, was a real-life Joseon artist (male in reality), and the drama covers many of the historical events of his/her life. Her main relationships are with her teacher and mentor Kim Hong-Do (also a real person) and the giseang (female entertainer) who becomes her artistic inspiration. While I found the drama lacking in many respects (especially its latter half), I thought it provided an interesting twist on the cross-gender theme. The 21 year old Moon would make a pretty convincing boy, but only if that boy were about eleven years old.

And now we come to the last item on my list, a 1994 Hong Kong film called He’s a Woman, She’s a Man. Like Coffee Prince, this film features a boyish girl in male guise causing another man seriously to question his own sexuality. Unlike Coffee Prince, however, the two main characters here have more lust for each other than actual friendship. But it works for this film and these characters; one mustn't be too hasty to draw unnecessary comparisons. And in spite of its commercial premise, this romantic comedy features sharp direction, effective humor, and great performances including those of lead actors Anita Yuen and Leslie Cheung. Yuen in particular is wonderful, playing a convincing man and a lively, endearing character. The film was followed by a sequel in 2006 called Who’s the Man, Who’s the Woman, which while on the whole inferior to the original nevertheless includes some hilarious and memorable moments.

Before wrapping up this meandering post, I just want to say a quick word about the many cross-dressing themed manga out there (and believe me, there are a ton.) Still, I can’t think of any that I really liked, at least not any that I enjoyed anywhere near as much as the films and dramas listed above. The most popular and well-known example (in the US at least) is Hana Kimi, which I happen to loathe. That being said, I found the cross-gender subplot in Fruits Basket to be very compelling. In that manga, it was only revealed half-way through the 23 volume series that one of the characters, the ominous and mysterious Akito, is actually a woman and has a pretty twisted romantic past with another main character. I could go on and on about that series, but this is not the place. (Edit: I'm an idiot. When I first wrote this I completely forgot about Ouran High School Host Club, a gender-bending manga that I really like. Perhaps because there's so much other wacky stuff going on in that crazy series, or because the cross-dressing thing is never taken very seriously, but OHSHC just didn't spring right to my mind when I tried to think of an example of a good manga gender-bender.)

So there’s my list of noteworthy gender-crossing, female-impersonates-male stories in various media that I’ve enjoyed over the years. I’m aware that it’s not anything like comprehensive, just a semi-random list of all the ones I could think of today. Maybe I’ll write about more in the future (and in further depth too), but I just wanted to take the time now to appreciate this trend. I’ll definitely be on the lookout to see where it will pop up next.

Summer Diversions

2009-08-11T23:16:00.000-07:00

So, my summer has unfortunately turned out to be rather suckier than most, what with my recovery from surgery being much longer and more complicated than expected, not to mention my having had to move clean across the country and back again in the space of a single month. Still, I did manage to have a little fun here and there in spite of everything, especially in the celebration of my twentieth birthday (yay me!) Although I’ve been woefully negligent of this blog for the abysmally long period of two months, I decided to write a brief summary of all the entertainment I’ve consumed in the interim. That is to say, rather than writing full-length reviews of everything I’ve taken in over the past few weeks, I’ve compiled a list of concise mini-reviews here:

Books

Tess of the d'Urbervilles (Thomas Hardy). Ugh, I did not enjoy this book. My only previous experience with Hardy (reading The Mayor of Casterbridge for a high-school assignment) was likewise an unpleasant one, but I decided to read this on the recommendation of a person whose opinion I highly regard. Sadly, said person and I must agree to disagree on this one. I did appreciate Hardy's frank, non-didactic treatment of the subject of premarital sex, as well as his vivid portraits of the pastoral life of the farming class. Yet I disliked his characters too much to sympathize with their misfortunes, which they bring entirely on themselves. In this novel, as well as in The Mayor of Casterbridge, I found an unnatural and forced abundance of tragedy and melodrama.

Castle in the Air and House of Many Ways (Diana Wynne Jones). If I had to characterize these books with a single word, I would say "delightful." Not for nothing is Jones one of the most successful and respected writers of fantasy for adults and children on either side of the pond. I held off reading these two for quite a while because, although touted as sequels to Howl's Moving Castle (one of my favorite books EVER), this is only half true. Yet I should not have waited: these books may not be direct continuations of HMC, and they may feature Sophie, Howl, and Calcifer only peripherally, but they nevertheless retain all the originality, charm, and wit of that previous work. They are the sort of books that feature characters with whom one cannot help but fall in love, and about whom one cannot read without smiling continuously and laughing outright occasionally.

Teatime for the Traditionally Built (Alexander McCall Smith). The most recent installment in the very enjoyable "No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" series does not disappoint. These books are rather like the literary equivalent of comfort food: simple, wholesome, and emotionally charged. Each novel in the series serves up the same basic dish, but it is invariably delicious. I love the reliable comfort of these familiar characters, with all their quirks and foibles. This tenth book features, among other things, another fabulous episode in the hilariously epic rivalry between Mma Makutsi (my favorite character, btw) and the elegant yet evil Violet Sephotho. Niether the series in general nor this book in particular are particularly strong in terms of tight plotting, but what they lack in that quarter they somehow make up for in general awesomeness. It's just hard to go too wrong with a story about the first and only female detective agency in the bright and beautiful country of Botswana.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Jane Austin and Seth Grahame-Smith). Yeah, that’s right: I read it. I figured the bizarre-0-factor alone would be worth the price of admission, and as an oddity of popular fiction it was pretty entertaining. Just take one look at the cover, and you’ll learn all you need to know about this unholy marriage of a regency romance and a gruesome gore-fest. Not everybody’s cup of tea, to be sure, but I personally was kind of excited about the idea. Still, the actual execution of said idea leaves a little to be desired. If you’re going to go as far as to transport Austen’s beloved characters into a zombie-infested alternate universe, you may as well play around with the story a bit. Grahame-Smith leaves the original story completely in tact, and just sprinkls in the zombie action here and there. Also, the discrepancy between his capabilities as a writer and those of Austen herself are as decidedly pronounced as that which exists between their choices in subject matter. P&P&Z contains just a few too many glaring grammatical errors and typos for a book written in the style of the early nineteenth century. Somebody needs to inform the author that those who truly wish to emulate Austen’s prose do not end their sentences with prepositions, nor do they split their infinitives. They just don’t.

Manga

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, vol 3 (Nagaru Tanigawa). My feelings about this volume are pretty much consistent with my reactions to the previous two volumes: generally positive. I absolutely love the whole Haruhi franchise (here's why), but I must recommend the animated version over the manga adaptation as being the higher quality and generally better presentation of the story and characters. Still, volume three will continue to entertain those already hooked on Haruhi, especially since it features a really great sequence from the light novels that did not appear in the anime. Get your fix of ironic chaos and surreal mayhem in volume three of The Melencholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, in which Kyon and the gang deal with more wild ambitions and violent mood swings from their beautiful, fearless, and insane leader. Expect baseball, group shopping, and time travel.

Fushigi Yuugi, Volume 2 VIZBIG Edition (Yuu Watase). When I bought the previously released VIZBIG edition of this series, which contained volumes 1-3 of the series, I wrote a long-ish post about why I though Fushigi Yuugi withstands the test of time in spite of all its cliched storylines and dated artwork. This second VIZBIG installment, containing volumes 4-6, continues to entertain and to amuse. Additionally, volume four introduces my absolute favorite character in the series. I know Tamahome and Hotohori are considered the main heartthrobs of Fushigi Yuugi, but I'm a Tasuki girl all the way. Actually, now that I think about it, he may be tied with Nuriko for my no. 1 favorite FY character. They're both so side-splittingly hilarious, and yet endearing as well. Fushigi Yuugi has many flaws, but I still consider it to be a real gem of a series.

Bride of the Water God, volumes 2 & 3 (Yun Mi-Gyung). This manhwa is a stellar example of a series that doesn’t quite live up to all of its amazing potential. The artwork is strikingly gorgeous, the mythology is intriguing and complex, and the characters and premise are dramatic and interesting. Yet most of the time Bride of the Water God turns out to be more of a hot mess than anything else. All the elements of an incredible series are present; they just don’t all come together as nicely as they could. The plot is often confusing and unfocused. Still, at its heart BotWG is a very good folk/fairy-tale, something for which I am a total sucker. Also, the plot starts to pick up more in volume 3, what Mui’s strange bargain and Soah’s resulting return to Earth, so we’ll see what happens.

Ouran High School Host Club vol. 12 (Hatori Bisco). I’ve been reading this series online as it’s been released, so I already know that it’s around this point in the story (volume twelve) that things really start to pick up, plotwise. Readers who’ve been patient throughout volumes and volumes of filler arcs with no end in sight will start to be rewarded with some real romantic action from here on out. Not that those filler arcs aren’t great in and of themselves; quite the opposite, really. That’s what makes this series such a joy to read. Even when the plot is spiraling off into a seemingly random vortex of nonsense, it’s still character-driven and that’s what really counts. OHSHC is one of those series with which it is difficult to go wrong: consistently funny, endearing, and well-drawn even when the plot defies the boundaries of the plausible.

Dramas

Sons of Sol Pharmacy House (aka My Too Perfect Sons). This weekend drama, currently in the second half of its fifty-episode run on KBS, has got the market cornered on hilarious, heartwarming family drama, not to mention some of the best romantic comedy storylines I’ve seen in a very long time. The cast exhibits a wide variety of talent, the show is well written, and each episode is fun fun FUN to watch. I find myself truly caring about these characters, oftentimes laughing aloud at their antics, and once or twice I’ve even cried at some of the more touching moments. This show is such a wonderful breath of fresh air compared to some of the dud dramas I’ve watched recently.

Television

“True Blood”, season two. Holy canoli, has this show taken off in season two! I’m a fan of the novels on which the show is based, but after watching the first season I was kind of on the fence about whether or not to tune in for more this summer, but boy am I glad I did. This summer, True Blood has significantly improved in both quality and popularity when compared to season one. Not only are there some great new characters, including the newly-turned teen vamp Jessica and the mythically evil maenad Maryann, but some old characters also get more development and backstory, such as the now-short-haired Eric (yay!) I know that Eric in the show will never be what he is in the books, but I’m really starting to like what Skarsgard and the show’s creators are doing with this manifestation of him. Anna Paquin continues to bring fire and life to the character of Sookie, but male lead Stephen Moyer and his character, Bill, continue to irk me. Still, True Blood’s really an ensemble show, and one to which I look forward to watching each week with much anticipation.

“Dollhouse”, unaired episode 14, “Epitaph One.” The much-hyped fourteenth episode of Dollhouse’s first season turned out to be my favorite episode yet. Set in the not-so-distant post-apocalyptic future that results directly from Dollhouse imprinting technology, “Epitaph One” was fifty minutes of intensely riveting entertainment that would have made zero sense to anyone who missed the rest of the season. It actually made it seem as though season one was little more that an introduction to the main action of season two, perhaps of the whole series. That would be a good thing as far as I’m concerned. I am no officially looking forward to season two; I dare say we might expect great things from this show yet.

Theater

Disney presents “The Lion King” on Broadway. Gosh, what could I possibly say about this show that hasn’t already been said? It was amazing, of course, just as everybody said it would be. But what really got me wasn’t so much the costumes, perhaps because I was expecting that, but just the overall presentation of the story. They took a cartoon movie and, rather than creating a literal translation from screen to stage (as with other Disney musicals), they created a truly theatrical interpretation of the original film and used animal characters to tell a powerfully moving and very human story. I’ll admit that I cried, and I’m not ashamed. Plus, the music was great. I have three new favorite songs. Too bad the tickets cost about an arm and a leg. Each.

Second volumes of The Name of the Flower, Fire Investigator Nanase

2009-06-16T10:04:00.000-07:00

Back in March I reviewed the first volumes of these two CMX series jointly, so I figured I’d do the same for their respective second installments. Overall, in reading the second volumes of The Name of the Flower and Fire Investigator Nanase, I found that my initial impressions of both series intensified; my love for the first deepened while my (then minimal) reservations about the second solidified into some pretty serious doubts.

First up, a glowing report of The Name of the Flower, created by Ken Saito. I just don’t think I can say enough good things about this title. It’s one of my two favorite series currently being published at the moment (the other one being Sand Chronicles). Yet The Name of the Flower has a very grounded, down-to-earth sensibility that the more melodramatic Sand Chronicles sometimes lacks. The Name of the Flower is detailed, subtle, melancholy, bittersweet, pensive, surprisingly humorous, and deeply romantic. One of the things I enjoy most about this series is that all of its characters are wonderfully deep. In fact, one of the highlights of the second volume for me was the introduction of several new and equally charming characters. The Name of the Flower might not appeal to anyone looking for, say, a real action packed title, but I personally love it to bits for all the reasons listed above.

In volume two, Chouko is already avsophomore in college, and begins to overcome some of her reclusive tendencies when she joins a student organization. She actually joins a club out of pitying consideration for a recruiter who rivals even herself in terms of shyness and timidity. Thus she’s introduced to the “Taisho Authors Association”, a small literary appreciation club consisting of a somewhat ragtag group of students who specialize in two things: literature and drinking parties. Chouko finds to her mild surprise that she actually gets along with these people, in particular with the guy who recruited her. Yousuke Karasawa is a painfully shy guy with some pretty serious literary aspirations. It’s great to see Chouko interacting and forming relationships with people her own age, instead of spending all her time with Kei and Akiyama only. In addition to it being healthy for her to socialize a bit, it also demonstrates her stability and the fact that her love for Kei isn’t merely the result of her being sequestered in his house all the time.

Meanwhile, Kei spends a good chunk of this volume holed up in his room in a fit of literary productivity. When he finally emerges, it is only to discover that he will have to deal with the whole Chouko situation sooner rather than later. Thus his dilemma: does he hold on to her while he has the chance, as per his more selfish, possessive desires, or does he push her away, into the arms of her new friends as he believes he ought? I get the feeling the Kei’s a guy of extremes, and that important matters have to be all or nothing with him. Whether that’s a strength or weakness I’m not entirely certain. Anyways, a lot happens in the final part of the volume, and a many things that have been building slowly over the course of the first two volumes sort of come to a head. I’m very excited for November to see what happens next.

Alas, if only I could say the same for my other CMX title, Fire Investigator Nanase. I certainly enjoyed the first volume well enough, and I had really high expectations for the series, but after finishing volume two I’m not sure I like the direction things are headed in. My chief complaint with the series is the proliferation of unabashed fanservice that doesn’t really appeal to me at all. There are times when I don’t mind moments of fanservice when it’s limited to just that: brief moments that don’t seriously detract from the story. One example of this would be in the manga adaptation of the Haruhi Suzumiya light novels, in which the fanservice-y moments don’t seem to take away or distract from the hilariously clever plotlines. In comparison, Fire Investigator Nanase features whole sequences and chapters of purely gratuitous material (chapter 16, entitled “Stalker”, is just one example). I don’t read a lot of seinen, so maybe I’m just expressing a reaction to the genre rather than this particular series, but whatever the case I didn’t like what I saw.

Another disappointment with Fire Investigator Nanase was the fact that I still haven’t really warmed up to the main characters. I know Nanase’s gutsy and selfless, and that’s all very admirable, but I’d sure as heck like to see her figure something out without Firebug’s help for a change. Speaking of whom, I also kind of wish the creators would humanize the villain a tiny bit to make him, if not downright sympathetic, at least more interesting. So far, Firebug’s just this completely crazy maniac whom we know nothing about, except that he’s an expert on fires. That being said, I do enjoy a lot of the side characters, such as Nanase’s little ward Shingo and her supervisor Chief Tachibana (who grew on me a lot in this volume). I also like whole mode of investigating fires and solving arson cases, but only when it’s not hindered by ridiculously nonsensical plot detours. Maybe I’m just being hard on this series because I had unrealistic (or at least irrationally high) expectations for it. I haven’t definitively decided to drop it, but I’m going to have to reevaluate it pretty seriously when volume three comes out in November.

How do I love thee, Provensen Book of Fairy Tales

2009-06-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

(Tiny disclaimer: this is a subject which most likely won’t interest anyone other than myself, yet since it’s quite near and dear to my own heart, and since I write primarily for myself anyways, I’m going to give it the full attention I believe it deserves.)

Once upon a time, a little girl was given a gift by her stepmother. The stepmother was not evil, you see, but very gentle and kind, if only a little scatterbrained. The gift she gave to her little stepdaughter was an old storybook, very worn and with positively hideous illustrations, but nevertheless containing the most extraordinarily beautiful and magnificent tales. The book afforded the girl countless hours of delight, and she treasured the book among her most prized possessions. And so the years passed, and the little girl grew a little less little, and she visited the stories of the book a little less often, though she still cherished it. One fateful morning, her stepmother came to her with a very apologetic look on her face and regretfully informed her that she could no longer keep the beloved book. It had originally been given to the stepmother’s evil sister by their late father, and now the evil step-aunt demanded its return. The poor stepmother was too gentle and kind to object, and the little girl had no choice but to surrender the book forever, though it nearly broke her heart.

A few more years passed, as they inevitably do, and the little girl was now all grown up. So many other things filled her crowded head that she had all but forgotten about the lost book that she’d loved so long ago so well. Until one day when she was perusing an edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales from her father’s collection of old books, and some little thing made her think of what she hadn’t thought of in years. And then, oh how she longed to see that book again, with all the wistful nostalgia of a homesick traveler. But how could she find it? Communication with the evil step-aunt was so not an option, but she didn’t even remember the book’s name, only vague fragments of the stories it contained. Fortunately for her, she was equipped with some mad research skills, and after about an hour of intensive searching on the web she finally and triumphantly discovered the name of the book: The Provensen Book of Fairy Tales. But what’s this? Out of print and widely unavailable? The girl was not afraid. She boldly availed herself of her trusty library card and within a few short days the book was back in her hands. And then, how it all came rushing back to her as if no time at all had passed. And she lived happily ever after (I hope). The End.

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I don’t care how old I get, I’ll always have plenty of room in my heart for good fairytales well told. Which is exactly what fills the Provensen Book of Fairy Tales, a delightful little out-of-print collection of fairytales both common and obscure recounted by a variety of authors. In fact, this book left such an impression on me in my childhood that even after it was long lost to me I retained enough affection and consideration for it that I was able and willing to track it down many years later, and that having finally found it I want to write about it here.

The Provensen Book of Fairy Tales contains what it refers to as “literary fairy tales” as opposed to “folk fairy tales”, explaining in the foreword that “The literary tale borrows shamelessly from the folk tale but gives it a new twist or dimension.” As such, these stories somehow manage to feel delightfully fresh and new, yet also old as the earth itself. Not to mention the fact that many of them are also expertly and ingeniously crafted works of literature. (Although I never did care much for the strange illustrations.) This collection contains several well-known works, such as Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Nightingale”, Oscar Wilde’s heartbreaking “The Happy Prince”, and a version of "Beauty and the Beast" by famous illustrator Arthur Rackham. Yet my personal favorites from among this collection (with the possible exception of “The Happy Prince”) are the more obscure stories taken from lesser-known anthologies. In particular:

“The Lost Half-Hour” by Henry Beston. In which a poor simpleton named Bobo volunteers to find the half-hour lost by the princess when she overslept one morning. His journey takes him around the world and eventually to the land of Father Time and his twelve sons. The hard-won lost half hour proves instrumental in rescuing his true love the kitchen maid upon his return. (Along the way, Bobo also finds a lost reputation, a lost temper, and a lost princess as well.)

“The Seven Simons” by Ruth Manning-Sanders. In which a ridiculously vain emperor sends seven brothers named Simon, who each have a special skill, to steal the only princess in the world beautiful and clever enough to be his bride. But as clever as the beautiful princess may be, is she any match for the seven Simons?

“The Prince and the Goose Girl” by Elinor Mordaunt. My all-time favorite, which is NOT to be confused with the Grimm tale of a similar name upon which the inexplicably popular Shannon Hale novel is based. In this story, a powerful prince rules his kingdom through fear and intimidation, and only a little goose girl (equally proud and stubborn, but infinitely more gentle) refuses to fear him. He falls in love with her, of course, but being proud and stubborn he goes about it all wrong. For herself, she insists she’ll never marry him unless he gets down on his knees and asks politely. Think that’s not too much to ask? You’ve clearly never met the prince.

These are only a few of the wonderful stories contained in this book. For anyone who has an appreciation for truly great fairy tales, I suggest you hunt down the Provensen collection as soon as feasibly possible; it will not disappoint. Now, I’ve just got to see to hooking my own copy because the library’ll probably be wanting theirs one of these days.

'Capital Scandal' is kind of a mixed bag

2009-06-04T09:48:00.000-07:00

Capital Scandal (경성스캔들), a.k.a. Scandal in Old Seoul, is an interesting series in that it somewhat defies the strictures of the typical kdrama genres by featuring subject matter rather unique to the drama scene (namely the Korean independence movement of the 20s and 30s.) Although this is a movement and historical period about which I know pretty much zilch, I enjoyed the way the drama mixed romantic comedy with the intrigue and danger of freedom fighting during the time of the Japanese occupation. Unfortunately the production values of ‘Scandal’ weren’t particularly high compared to many other period dramas, and the repetitiveness of certain unfunny side storylines did seriously irritate. However, I very much appreciated the (from my perspective) fresh and different story and subject matter, as well as the stellar acting of the main leads (well, three out of four of them anyways). Han Ji-Min (who played the sweet, conscientious Shin-Bi in Dae Jang Geum) stars as Na Yeo-Kyung, an amusingly austere yet earnest young woman who works in a bookshop and becomes involved with an underground group working to undermine Japanese authority in the capital. She’s young and pretty, but has a reputation for being harsh and uncompromising, and has earned the nickname Jo Ma-Ja (which stands for the “last woman of Joseon (old Korea)”. Just to give an example of her attitude, there’s one pretty funny scene after she’s gotten together with Kang Ji-Hwan’s character in which she tells him that even if they get married she won’t sleep with him until after the country’s been liberated. His response? “Geez, everything's about liberation with you!” Kang Ji-Hwan’s a big A-list movie and drama star, but I mostly know him from last year’s Hong Gil Dong. Here he plays Seon Woo-Wan, a rascally sort of rich boy loafer who nevertheless has a really good heart and a somewhat troubled past. He initially clashes with the bluntly disapproving Yeo-Kyung, but is soon drawn to her kindness and bravery, which he eventually comes to cherish and emulate. KJH did an excellent job of bringing real playfulness and charisma to this character, which might have been flat or boring in the hands of another actor. Plus, his Woo-Wan had really cute chemistry with Yeo-Kyung.

Han Go-Eun plays Cha Song-Joo, a prominent gisaeng (female entertainer) and friend of Woo-Wan who secretly leads the local faction of the freedom-fighting group that recruits Yeo-Kyung. Ostensibly the perfect model of a “modern woman” who panders to the authority of the Japanese, Song-Joo has harbored a deep-rooted hatred for the system ever since she was sold to the gisaeng house as a young girl. I really like Song-Joo; she’s the kind of really cool woman that every girl wants for her unni. Life dealt her a pretty sucky hand, but she turned into a really strong person for it. Not to mention her unflappable, cool demeanor and glamorous image.

Ryu Jin plays Lee Su-Hyun, a mysterious man connected to the pasts of both Song-Joo and Woo-Wan who suddenly reappears in both of their lives as a high-ranking official of the Japanese police force. They both feel betrayed and confused by the actions of the cold and inscrutable Su-Hyun, but there may be more to this man than meets the eye. I liked Ryu Jin a lot better in this role than in I Really Really Like You (he certainly has better hair here), but I still think he’s pretty stiff and unengaging as an actor. Fortunately, his character was pretty tight-lipped so it didn’t make that much of a difference.

Another thing about Capital Scandal was the distinctive lack of love-triangles as plot machinations. True, there were little jealousies here and there due to circumstances, but there was no genuine romantic competition to hinder the development of our two main couples. It’s not like I’ve got anything against love- triangles when they’re done really well (just look at how much I adored Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang). It’s just that this show had a lot of other things going on to balance out the romance.

Like I said, the production values of this drama weren’t the highest. The 1920s setting was really fun, but the costumes tended to be a little too costume-y, and the sets reminded me a lot of the fake streetscapes at Disney World. Another unfortunate element of the drama was the prevalence of not-so-funny slapstick gags. Maybe it’s just an issue of personal taste, but I gotta say that long before the end I was severely tempted to fast forward through any scene in which Sachiko and/or the Arashi employees even showed up. (I frequently succumbed to that temptation and don’t think my enjoyment of the series was the worse for it.) I enjoyed the drama most when it was able to find a nice middle ground, although it did have a tendency to swing to extremes. By that I mean I enjoyed the moments of lighter humor and understated melancholy a lot more than the over-the-top slapstick and melodrama, which were also present. All that being said, however, I did enjoy the overall look and feel of the show, perhaps simply because it was unlike other dramas I’ve seen and because it was a lot of fun. Capital Scandal was a very mixed bag for me, but I’m still glad I watched it all the way through.

Capital Scandal originally aired in 2007 on KBS2. The theme song is really catchy, makes me want to swing dance:

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Last note: the supporting cast of this drama was kind of like a review of all the dramas I’ve ever seen. Kang Nam-Gil (Who Are You?, Bad Family, Goong, Return of Iljimae), Kim Hye Ok (I Really Really Like You, Flowers For My Life, Sons of Sol Pharmacy House), Ahn Suk-Hwan (Boys Before Flowers, Painter of the Wind, Hong Gil Dong, Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang), Phillip Choi (Soulmate), and Lee Kyung-Jin (Dal Ja’s Spring) all appear in Capital Scandal.

Time of Your Life (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 8, Volume 4)

2009-06-02T10:00:00.000-07:00

And speaking of semi-cannon print continuations of film/tv classics, the fourth collected volume of the “eighth season” of Buffy the Vampire Slayer came out last month. Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of the comic book medium (by which I mean traditional U.S style comics as opposed to graphic novels, for example, or manga). I generally prefer their cartoon adaptations, as is the case with my beloved X-Men. That being said, I have been following the comic book continuation of the television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which ended with its seventh season in 2003, primarily because I love that universe and am a total sucker for all things related to it. So when the fourth volume of the collected edition, entitled Time of Your Life and containing issues #16 – #20, came out a few weeks ago, I hustled my butt down to Barnes & Noble and plunked down sixteen bucks for my copy. While the comic series doesn’t necessarily retain all the charm and appeal of the show, it nevertheless provides lots of fun for fans and usually a good read as well.

The title “Time of Your Life” refers to issues #16 – #19, a time travel story arc that also crosses over with Fray, an eight-issue comic about the slayer of the future. In this arc, Buffy and Willow head to the New York group on some mystical tip Willow got through the vague and mysterious spiritual pipeline and end up – you guessed it – walking into a trap. Bottom line: Buffy gets transported 200 years into the future and finds herself in a sci-fi version of Manhattan coming face-to-face with Fray, a slayer whose English is even more garbled and incomprehensible than Buffy’s. Once she adjusts to the bizarre circumstances a bit, Buffy’s dismayed to see the rather grim conditions of the future, and to learn that the number of total slayers has somehow dwindled back down to one (in fact, Fray’s the first to be called in years.) Before she can piece together the whole, story, however, we find out just who’s been pulling the strings behind Buffy’s little jaunt through time. Well, the cover art kind of gave it away, but yes, it’s Dark Willow! (dun dun dun) But she’s not like the Dark Willow of season six, who was full of incontrollable rage. This is a Willow darkened not by sudden anger, but rather twisted and hardened by the inexorable passage of time and filled with cold, merciless calculation, and perhaps not a little sadness as well. Her motives for bringing Buffy to this time are not exactly clear, but it doesn’t take long for her to turn Fray and Buffy against one another.

Meanwhile, back in the present, Dawn and Xander are left to hold down the Scotland base. This proves rather difficult when Amy and Warren (these two never die, do they?) orchestrate a two-pronged supernatural/technical attack on behalf of their new boss, the ominous and mysterious Twilight (who is undoubtedly the big bad of Season Eight.) Xander and Dawnie and the rest of the troops pull through in the end, of course, but not before sustaining some casualties and having a hilarious encounter with the tree-folk of the forest surrounding the castle. Also in this arc, we get to see a lot more of Kennedy (she and Willow are evidently still a thing), and we learn that Riley Finn has apparently gone over to the dark side. Too bad Buffy still thinks he’s a reliable source.

After all the intense action of issues #16 – #19, I really loved how issue #20 provided a little break from the increasingly entangled developments of the Season Eight mythology. Entitled “After These Messages … We’ll Be Right Back”, this issue was much lighter in tone and really played up the nostalgia factor by hearkening back to the early days of the original series, showing us how much has changed since then, but also how much is still the same. In this issue, Buffy returns to the base totally exhausted from an evening of demon slaying and has a strange dream in which she finds herself back at Sunnydale High, as if the past eight years had never happened. Initially thrilled to be relieved of the pressures of leading a worldwide slayer army, she soon finds that high-school slaying isn’t all fun and games the way she remembers. I loved this issue. I loved seeing old characters like Cordelia and Joyce and Principal Snyder, not to mention the high-school versions of Buffy and Willow (let’s face it, Xander hasn’t really changed all that much, bless his heart). I loved how the art during the dream sequence shifted to a more cartoonish, Betty-and-Veronica type of stylization. I loved how it was funny like the original series was, but also drove home a really powerful message about what changes over time and what remains constant.

All in all, Time of Your Life was a pretty nifty installment of Season Eight. I never read the Fray series, but I was still able to follow and enjoy the crossover. The series may not be as funny or clever as the show was, but it’s still really engaging and enjoyable. Plus, with little gems like “After These Messages” and the tree-folk embedded here and there throughout the series, how could I not read it? Also, the artwork is gorgeous. I kind of like that the characters don’t look exactly like the actors from the show; the series has its own distinctive style. And if there’s one thing that comic books have over manga and graphic novels, it’s color. The colors in here are so prettyyyy. If nothing else, Season Eight sure is easy on the eyes.

Two words: Surgery. Sucks.

2009-06-02T09:56:00.000-07:00

Oh, sure, the drugs are kind of trippy. Coming out of the anesthesia-induced stupor, you might be feeling pretty darn good. There’s not a hint of pain, just an extremely pleasant and drowsy contentment. Everything is so wonderful, and you just want to lie in this lovely hospital bed and let the nice nurses take care of you. What was I so worried about?, you think to yourself. This place is great. Hardy har har. Just wait a couple of hours. Wait ‘til the intense nausea kicks in and you feel like puking your guts out. Wait ‘til they sick the urinary catheter on you. Wait till you get home and you’re so constipated from all the pain killers that you’re thinking of checking yourself right back in to the hospital all over again.

Ok, so maybe I’m exaggerating a tiny bit, but still. I just had my first surgical procedure (and my first experience with general anesthesia) last week, and I’m posting this by way of excuse for not writing anything for so long. I had kind of thought that the recovery would give me plenty of time to work on this blog and write up some things that have been stewing in my brain recently, but alas, such was not the case. I just haven’t been feeling up to it yet, but hopefully soon I’ll be able to put in some time.

I also want to say that although I do like to complain and have been feeling pretty under it since the surgery, all things considered it’s been a pretty decent experience for me. Everyone at the hospital was really great I felt very well taken care of the entire time. Sure, there were some unfortunate side effects from all the drugs, but the benefits of the procedure far outweigh them. All in all, I’m a pretty happy patient.

Return to Labyrinth vol. 3

2009-05-18T22:43:00.000-07:00

So after a ridiculously long waiting period (it’s been about a year and a half since the release of volume two), the third and penultimate volume of Jake Forbes’ manga-style sequel/spin-off of 1986 cult classic Henson film “Labyrinth” finally hit stores earlier this month, courtesy of Tokyopop. Personally, I’ve been a fan of the movie ever since the time when my age could be represented with a single digit. I love how creative and imaginative it is, and I especially love the fascinating story at its center: a young girl, obsessed with fantasy and fed up with reality, is forced to confront “dangers untold and hardships unnumbered” when her fantasies become real in a very scary way. Basically, after unwittingly sending her baby brother Toby to the kingdom of goblins that live in the Underground, Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) must solve their dangerous and impossible labyrinth in order to retrieve the baby. She also must match wits and wills with the treacherous and powerful Goblin King (David Bowie). Said king constantly tries to foil her, both by throwing dangers and obstacles in her path and by tempting her with (what he believes to be) her heart’s desires. But Sarah’s resourcefulness and determination to save her brother, as well as the creatures she befriends along the way, help her to reach the center of the Labyrinth, where she finally remembers the magic words that defeat the Goblin King once and for all: you have no power over me. And so Sarah returns home with baby in tow, having grown up a bit from the petulant teenager who went into the Labyrinth and also made some really cool goblin friends along the way.

-->Return to Labyrinth takes place a good while after the events of the film and features an adolescent version of Toby, the baby Sarah rescued, as its main protagonist. Drawn once more into the Labyrinth, Toby finds himself caught up in a very different kind of adventure than what Sarah experienced all those years before. Now, do I love this series like I do the original material? Not hardly. But do I enjoy it? Actually, I really do. I like Jake Forbes’ imaginative creations, and it’s clear that he’s a fan of the film as well. The story of RtL has also improved immensely with each successive volume he’s written. And while Chris Lie’s artwork isn’t particularly to my taste and kind of takes some getting used to, it has kind of grown on me a little bit.

-->There are certain elements of RtL that work better for me than others. I sometimes feel, for example, that the characters’ voices (particularly, and most disappointingly, the voices of the characters from the original film) don’t come through as strongly as they might. On the other hand, Forbes and Lie have together captured perfectly the wonderful world of the Labyrinth itself, as well as the strange and unfathomable creatures that inhabit it. Particularly enjoyable are the two new goblin characters: Spittledrum, the pompous but loyal mayor of Goblin City, and Skub, the scrappy little underdog with a heart of gold. Yet in spite of its merits, this little series won’t have a whole lot of appeal to anyone who isn’t already a diehard fan of the film. Which actually kind of works out because I seriously doubt anyone who’s not a Labby freak like me will even bother with these books at all.

Anyways, getting down to brass tacks, the action of volume three picks up right where volume two left off, and I gotta say eighteen months is an awfully long time to wait for the resolution of a cliffhanger, especially when said resolution is kind of disappointing. Jareth and Sarah come face to face for the first time in all these years aaaaand… she doesn’t recognize him. Of course she doesn’t. I should have known, really, although we don’t find out exactly what’s going on with Sarah until a little later. Fortunately, things are a lot more exciting in the Underground than they are up Above, as Toby discovers the truth about the former king and prepares for his own coronation while contending with enemies from without and within. There’s a lot going on in this volume, but I suspect a lot of it is set up for the fourth and final installment. Which, if we follow the established pattern, should be released in about one hundred years. When it does come out, however, I will undoubtedly be purchasing it. Anybody looking to learn more about this series and its creator should check out Jake Forbes’ blog over at gobblin.net.

And now I have a really strong desire to go watch “Labyrinth” again. Fortunately for me I have it on my ipod, soooo that’s what I’ll be doing tonight. :)

Dollhouse renewed for 2nd season!

2009-05-17T09:59:00.000-07:00

The news that Fox’s Friday night ratings tanker will live to see another day has been greeted with both rejoicing from its small but devoted fanbase and disbelief from the industry speculators who’ve been prognosticating its imminent demise for months. Although the official announcement of Dollhouse’s renewal won’t be made until tomorrow, sources have confirmed that it’s already a done deal. Personally, I can’t say that this (welcome) development came as that big of a shock. In spite of the show’s rocky start and abysmal performance ratings-wise, it’s been pulling in consistently good DVR and Hulu numbers. Plus, the network invested about a zillion dollars in building the show’s amazing mega-set; it’d be a shame to scrap it after a only a measly half season’s mileage. I guess they’re hoping the show’s fanbase will grow enough over the summer for it to do better the second time around. Well, here’s hoping.

So, now’s probably as good a time as ever to address the fact that I haven’t written anything about this show in six weeks. I kept watching it up through last week’s series finale (and patiently monitoring the news releases for hope of its renewal), but I just haven’t had the time or motivation to review. So, I’m just going to treat this as a final wrap-up post for season one, in which I’ll talk briefly about episodes 8-12. Ok, so to sum up the last six episodes of season one of Dollhouse – well, I can’t really do that. It’s just not feasible; they were really, really complicated. There was a lot of really awesome, intriguing stuff going on, but talk about weaving a really tangled web! Instead of trying to produce a thorough summary, I’ll just focus on some of the more salient developments that stand out in my mind when reflecting on the end of the season.

First up, Victor. Let me just say that Enver Gjokaj is too cute for words. He’s pretty much the only active that I find inevitably appealing in all his many personalities. Plus, his performance as Victor in the “in between” state is pitch perfect; more so than any of the other actives he manages to give off less “mind-wiped zombie slave” and more “gentle, childish innocence.” Which of course makes what happens to him at the end all the more tragic. I’m really curious to see what happens to him in season two. He obviously can’t go out on engagements anymore, what with the marring of his (beautiful) face. Will the Dollhouse find a way to “recycle” him like they did with Whiskey (now known as Dr. Saunders)? Or will they simply send him to the Attic? Whatever happens, I hope they keep him around in some capacity, as I really love this actor and this character.

Secondly, Mr. Dominic turns out to be a mole and gets sent to the Attic himself. Whoa, I did not see this one coming. The guy always seemed so devoted (excessively so) to his job as chief of Dollhouse security. Turns out he’s an NSA agent charged with the mission, not of destroying the Dollhouse, but rather of monitoring it for as of yet unknown purposes. When she finds out her longtime associate and right-hand man is actually someone [else’s] inside man, DeWitt demonstrates just how cold and ruthless she can be. Speaking of which, the whole getting sent to the Attic thing turned out to be way more creepy and sinister than I’d initially thought. Really intense scene, that.

Also, Paul Ballard gets a lot more to do in these episodes, particularly towards the end. He discovers that Mellie isn’t really Mellie and uses her to find a way into the Dollhouse. Once inside, he actually finds himself cooperating with Boyd, DeWitt, and Topher in order to track down Alpha, who’s taken Echo. I never really and completely warmed up to Ballard, but he certainly had his moments. I still think his obsession with the Dollhouse, and his obsession with and need to save Echo/Caroline, don’t really make a whole lot of sense, unless of course there’s more to his story that we don’t yet know. Still, I thought it was way cool of him bargain for November’s release at the end, considering his history with “Mellie”, when he could have asked for Caroline. I’m really curious to see if he’ll continue his tentative association with the Dollhouse in season two. It would at the very least give him the opportunity to watch over Echo. Maybe he’ll even become her handler now that Boyd’s replaced Mr. Dominic as chief of security?

As for Alpha, while Alan Tudyk gave a great performance, the character itself kind of underwhelmed me, considering the season-long build-up. I could go into all the reasons why this is, but I’m getting tired and this post is getting long, so I’ll try to curb my enthusiasm. Basically, underneath all the evil (and illogical) machinations and the genius personality compilations, Alpha turns out to be a pretty standard baddie whereas I really though his particularly brand of villainy would be something to write home about. Still, I love Alan Tudyk (whom I literally bumped into in a Starbucks once), and he did a great job with the role.

Overall, I think this show’s got loads of potential and I’m psyched it’s returning for at least one more season. The premise of the show is an extremely difficult one to market and execute, and some of those difficulties definitely manifested themselves in the final product, but it’s still a really unique and fascinating creation. So congratulations to the cast and production crew of Dollhouse on beating the odds and getting renewed. See you next fall.

Dead and Gone, latest Sookie Stackhouse release

2009-05-16T00:00:00.000-07:00

So the vampire community of northern Louisiana has been getting some good publicity recently. HBO recently released some shiny new stills and promotional videos for the much-hyped sophomore season of the show “True Blood”. Additionally, the latest installment of the series of novels on which the show is based also came out earlier this month. Dead and Gone, the ninth book in Charlaine Harris’ southern vampire mystery series, hit stores almost two weeks ago. However, thanks to these annoying little things called final exams I’ve only just got a chance to track down a copy and zip through it. The verdict? I definitely enjoyed this book, as I did the previous installments. This series is such a guilty pleasure for me. I do have misgivings and reservations, which as a responsible reviewer I will fully disclose, but the series continues to deliver a fun, exciting read with an unusually extensive cast of delightful characters.

I already wrote a general review of this series, so I won’t bother to introduce it thoroughly here. I’ll just say that the Southern Vampire Mysteries, aka the Sookie Stackhouse novels (it kind of bugs me that this series doesn’t have a definitive name), feature a telepathic waitress named Sookie Stackhouse who lives in a small town in Louisiana and gets involved with the various local supernatural communities. Some of these communities, such as the vampires and the were-folk, have more or less assimilated into mainstream society. Others, such as the witches and the fairies, haven’t.

While I thoroughly enjoy the alternate universe Harris has created in this series, I often find myself frustrated with her story development (or lack thereof). Each book generally contains one or more stand-alone plotlines, while the series itself doesn’t really boast that much of a big picture, plot-wise. Yet this doesn’t bother me as much as it might; what really carries the series is the ever-expanding cast of colorful characters and complex supernatural politics. Seeing as I’ve stuck with the series this long, I obviously enjoy reading these books and have pretty much committed myself to continuing to do so. Still, with nine books currently published and still no end in sight, the series runs the risk of becoming monotonous, with the same kinds of things happening in every installment. On the other hand, readers who know they like what the series has to offer can pretty much count on it to consistently deliver more of the same. So while the Southern Vampire books definitely fall into the category of “light reading”, I’ve got no major problem with that. I can take my low culture as well as the high any day of the week.

In Dead and Gone, there’s a lot of stuff going on simultaneously. The good people of Bon Temps are dealing with the aftermath of the werewolves’ “coming out” announcement, the Louisiana vamps are adjusting to the recent takeover from Nevada, and the few remaining fairies on this side of the veil are entangled in a bitter and violent power struggle. And once again our telepathic heroine somehow finds herself in the middle of it all. So much for the supernatural political developments; on to the character developments. Sookie starts to mend bridges with her brother Jason while also continuing to get closer to arrogant but charismatic vampire sheriff Eric (although she still stubbornly attributes her affection for him to the blood bond they share.) Bill continues to be a douche (ok, maybe that’s just my personal interpretation) and Quinn turns out to be a sore loser. Oh, and by the end of the book at least one minor but totally awesome character dies. All in all, Dead and Gone provided some very juicy developments to the meandering story of the series, although I would have liked to have seen more of my absolute favorite character (Pam).

It’ll probably be about a year until the next book gets published, but in the meantime there’s the second season of “True Blood” to keep me occupied.

Dae Jang Geum, where have you been all my life?

2009-05-08T23:45:00.001-07:00

Holy shizzles, maybe I need to start watching more sageuk dramas (period kdramas, typically set during the era of the Joseon dynasty.) I’m a pretty voracious kdrama consumer, but my appetite generally leans pretty exclusively towards the trendy genre. I mean, I’ve dabbled a bit in fusion sageuks, most notably with last year’s action/comedy/hero-story Hong Gil Dong, although that was really just a trendy drama dressed up in traditional garb. As for the only other sageuk I’ve watched, Painter of the Wind, even that can be said to be moderately fusion as well in that it demonstrated a very modern sensibility in both story and execution. Pure sageuks, on the other hand, are played totally straight. (It’s sort of like the difference between A Knight’s Tale and Ivanhoe.) So basically Dae Jang Geum is my first completely bona fide, totally legit, sweepingly epic sageuk drama. My impression? Looks like I’ve been missing out.

There are many people who thoroughly enjoy both sageuk and trendy/fusion dramas, but there are also quite a few purists out there who fall solidly into one camp or the other. Personally, I can see how the trendy stuff might be a lot more accessible to younger, non-Korean viewers. While the shorter trendy dramas tend to be more fast-paced and instantly gratifying, the sageuks are much slower, usually more serious in tone, and obviously require more of an understanding of traditional Korean society and culture. Basically, they don’t translate as well, and they’re typically viewed by a much older demographic. Yet in spite of all this, sageuks are usually the programs with the highest ratings, and the genre’s continuing to thrive along side their more youthful counterparts.

So what prompted me to emerge from my trendy drama comfort zone and foray into the scary world of sageuk? I guess just curiosity. I was curious about Dae Jang Geum in particular because of its insane level of popularity and international success. One of the highest rated dramas ever (53% at one point during its 2003 broadcast), Dae Jang Geum is also credited with contributing to the surge of international interest in Korean pop culture known as the Korean Wave. So I guess I was just curious as to what was so darn great about this show that captured people’s attention so thoroughly.

From the very first few episodes, Dae Jang Geum won me over completely. I still haven’t quite finished the series (I’ve got about six episodes left to go out of the total 54), but I couldn’t wait any longer to write this. The series may not have the fast-paced fun of your typical trendy fare, but it is definitely not at all boring or stuffy. Intense, riveting, exciting, beautiful, heart wrenching? Yes. Boring? No Way. When I first looked into the series I balked at the length of 54 episodes, but once I started watching I actually found myself glad that sageuks run so long because I’ve just been burning through these episodes. When I finish I think I might suffer symptoms of withdrawal. Or maybe DJG will be my gateway drug to sageuks (like Coffee Prince was my gateway drug to trendies.)

Alright, enough rambling. Time to talk about the drama itself. Dae Jang Geum tells the story of a woman named Jang-Geum. The “Dae” from the title refers not to her family name, but to the official title she eventually receives when she becomes the first and only woman to ever serve as primary physician to the king. The drama focuses on her entire life leading up to that achievement. The story includes elements of political intrigue, romance, tragedy, and much more, but at its core Dae JangGeum tells the very intimate story of a single woman’s journey. I only wish I could adequately convey the essence of this epic drama in this summary.

Portrayed by the lovely Lee Young-Ae, Jang-Geum is a woman of uncommon intelligence and talents (first in the royal kitchen, and later as a female physician), but who’s also very passionate, cheerful, and kind. She does have flaws, though. Although in most respects a very humble person, she has a dangerous tendency to be a little too proud in her own abilities. She also struggles to balance her desire for justice and her desire for vengeance.

Ji Jin-Hee plays Min Jung-Ho, a scholar-official of the upper class and Jang-Geum’s main love interest. While maybe not the most complex character ever written, he's definitely got the whole white-horse-riding-romantic-hero thing down pat. If I had to use one word to describe his character it would be dashing. His romance with Jang-Geum was very sweet (and even tear-inducing at several points). And all this accomplished without even a single on-screen kiss in the whole drama. Yeah, it might seem weird to have this sweeping, epic romance without any actual smooching, but then again how many kissing scenes are there in Jane Austen’s novels, considered to be some of the most romantic in the English language? It’s the same in DJG as in an Ausen novel: the implications of subtle glances and slight touches are enough to evoke pretty strong feelings such that when an actual embrace comes along it feels like the ultimate expression of passionate love.

Hong Ri-Na plays Jang-Geum’s greatest rival in the palace, Choi Geum-Young. Geum-Young’s the type of character who isn’t really villainous at heart, but who doesn’t have the backbone to be good when circumstances force her down a path of evil. She’s a very lonely person, and when Jang-Geum wounds her pride in a lot of ways she takes refuge in her family, who just so happen to be as villainous and power-hungry as they come. Kyeon Mi-Ri gives a great performance as Lady Choi, Geum-Young’s aunt and the head of the Choi Axis of Evil. Lady Choi’s one of the most nefarious, unscrupulous characters in the history of everything, but even she has rare moments of, if not of true remorse for her sins then of regret for the fact that she “had” to commit them. She bitterly and resentfully regrets that certain people commit the sin of refusing to submit to her authority, and thereby making it necessary for her to eliminate them.

The king (king Jungjong, played by actor Im Ho) is a pretty minor character up until the later part of the series. He’s a very gentle and honest man, but on the whole too mild and indecisive to be a truly strong ruler. There are lots of other characters in the series that I really love as well, but I just can’t list them all here, and I’ve already rambled on too much. I guess I’ll just conclude kind of lamely and say that this drama is really great and that it’s definitely made me want to check out more sageuks in the future.

Finally, I’ll just post this clip from episode 16. It’s a really beautiful scene in which Jang-Geum sees the ocean for the first time. Her adoptive father takes her to there to cheer her up when she’s depressed and they play in the water together, and then they run into … Min Jung-Ho!

Sand Chronicles continues to impress in vol. 5

2009-05-08T09:37:00.000-07:00

Ooh, this series is really good. But before I gush about it, let me first just say that sometimes I would really like to kill whoever writes the summaries on the back of these manga volumes. Case in point:

"Shika will stop at nothing to steal Daigo from Ann. And the competition ramps up when an attractive girl resurfaces from their past. Meanwhile, Fuji patiently waits to win Ann from Daigo. But who do Ann and Daigo want to be with …?"

Does that sound like something you’d be interesting in reading? Honestly, this summary makes it sound as though Sand Chronicles were chock full of mindless, ditzy fluff when in truth the story focuses on very real and serious issues. If someone unfamiliar with the series picked up this volume in the store they’d have no idea, judging from this description, that they were holding one of the more mature and poignant shoujo titles out there. In fact, Sand Chronicles often reads a lot more like josei than shoujo, but since its main characters are adolescents I guess that’s the age group it’s marketed towards. Then again, they (the characters) have been aging pretty progressively throughout the series thus far, so who knows where they’ll end up by the end. (I think it’s ten volumes long.) In any case, notwithstanding the stupid and misleading summary on the back, Sand Chronicles vol. 5 continues to impress and engage me. I sped through this installment all too quickly, and can hardly wait till September for volume 6.

This volume contains two lengthy chapters that focus on the summer and winter of Ann’s 17th year, respectively. It’s really heartbreaking to see her and Daigo fail to maintain the happy, easy relationship they once had, especially since they clearly love each other a lot. (Maybe too much? Ann even says at one point that her feelings were out of control.) But Ann’s still pretty fragile, and Daigo just can’t fix her issues for her no matter how much he wants to. He’s completely devoted to her, but she can see the strain she’s putting on him and I think that’s why she leaves him so abruptly. Ever since her mother’s suicide, she’s basically clung to Daigo and depended completely on him to get through all her troubles. And while she clearly loves him, she’s never going to be able to heal or grow emotionally if she never learns to stand on her own two feet. And so even though separation from him is painful, I think it’s good for her in the long run. Poor Daigo gets a pretty raw deal though. I think this is a case of love just not being enough to keep two people together.

Meanwhile, Fuji (depicted on the cover with Ann) isn’t really featured very prominently in this volume, especially compared to the last few chapters. I’m still kind of rooting for him, though. Don’t get me wrong, I like Daigo plenty. I just find Fuji to be a much more interesting character. Plus, he’s way more my type. Shika – what to say about Shika? She’s dealing with her own demons and stumbling pretty hard along the way, but I think there’s hope for her to grow into a really healthy, happy girl. She’s in a really difficult position because her status really isolates her from her peers, and her brother’s been absent from her life physically and emotionally, so she doesn’t really have anyone to support her. But I’ve got a suspicion that she’s much tougher than Ann deep down, and that’s she’ll pull through this in time.

I also just want to say that although I’ve emphasized the heavier, more serious aspects of Sand Chronicles, the series does have humor as well and some of it’s relatively light in tone. The serious stuff is the main focus, but it’s got a broad spectrum as well. The thing I really love about this series is that it always feels very real. Sure, it’s dramatic and all that, but the emotion always comes across as complex, genuine, and deep. Plus, all the side characters and minor characters are charmingly three-dimensional, which also contributes to the ‘real’ feeling as well. We’ve got the Tokyo crew and the Shimane crew, and they’re all great.

Ugh, I can’t believe volume six doesn’t come out until September. What’s up with that? Some of Viz’s other shoujo titles are released every other month (Skip Beat!, Nana). I’d understand if Sand Chronicles wasn’t very popular, but it is. Oh, well, go figure.

Count 'em up: The Basic Eight, by Daniel Handler

2009-04-28T19:59:00.001-07:00

First, I gotta say that I’m a huge fan of Daniel Handler. He’s funny, he’s smart, and he plays the accordion. What more could you ask for? One of the greatest regrets of my life (so far) is that I didn’t get his autograph when I met him. O cruel fate, why? Why?

So, um, anyways…

This is a very twisted book, but with a delightfully black sense of humor. But then what would one expect from the man who gave us a best-selling series of children’s books in which terrible things happen to orphans, and bad people get away with murder? Truthfully, it was primarily out of love for the aforementioned series, and curiosity as to what kind of adult literature the author would produce, that I picked up this one. Actually, first I tried reading another one of his books (Adverbs) because it had a cooler cover and I’m shallow like that, but I couldn’t finish it. It’s not that it wasn’t brilliantly strange and strangely brilliant; it was just a little too episodic and disjointed for my microscopic attention span. So I picked up The Basic Eight and was able to polish it off within a couple of days.

The Basic Eight employs some rather interesting narrative devices. Basically, the text consists of the high school diary of Flannery Culp, heavily edited and annotated by herself as she types up the manuscript in her jail cell sometime after the action of the story. You see, Flan sort of beat one of her classmates to death with a croquet mallet her senior year. You know, high school can be stressful, right? Actually, Flan makes for a pretty entertaining narrator, despite the fact that she’s certifiable. I guess the book kind of begs the question as to what extent do her very serious problems and stacked odds really excuse the things she does? (And I’m not just talking about the murder, but all the other poor choices she makes throughout the story.) Where do we draw the line between condemnation and circumstantial non-culpability. Or maybe we’re not supposed to draw any line (or conclusion) at all, as the constantly sarcastic, ironic, and derisive tone of the narration seems to undermine one’s desire to make such judgments.

Interestingly enough, whereas the last book I read had a kind of demoralizing effect for me, The Basic Eight actually made me feel pretty good about myself. I may think my life’s screwed up, but I’ve got nothing on Flannery Culp. I found her life and circle of friends to be about as realistic and true-to-life as the Lemony Snicket books themselves, which is to say, not very realistic at all. But then I don’t think that’s what Handler’s going for in either case. I still got lots of enjoyment out of the reading. I especially enjoyed how Flan would constantly correct her own grammar, making her sentences really awkward just to satisfy obscure grammatical conventions. Lynn Truss would be so proud of her. She’s one of those kids who always seems to have a snappy line or comeback, and her writing’s just chock full of acerbic perspicacity. (She likes to write things like, “The books on the wallpaper had no discernible spines, like the people in the room”.) Too bad she couldn’t turn that oh-so-sharp and clever gaze on herself in time to recognize the extent of her own problems.

Oftentimes I think the little blurb on the inside flap of books do a pretty shabby job of conveying the essence of whatever story they’re trying to condense. But I think in this case the blurb does a pretty bang-up job of showing potential readers what kind of things to expect from The Basic Eight:

It’s first semester senior year, and Flannery Culp needs her friends more than ever. Her homeroom teacher is a tyrant, her biology teacher is a pervert, and in a few months the Winnie Moprah Show will broadcast vicious lies calling her a Satanic murderer when they really mean murderess… Flannery needs all of the Basic Eight, because high school can get so stressful, you just want to kill someone.
Vocabulary: TYRANT INCESSANTLY SCARCELY REQUITED PANACHE
Study Questions:
1. In order to sell, a work of literature now has to be condensed into a few pithy paragraphs on the front flap. Does this seem right to you? Why or why not?

2. Really, the only way to tell if a book is any good is to purchase it for yourself, take it home, and read it all the way through. Don’t you think? Why or why not?

3. If a boy is messing with your head, is it okay to pummel his head? Why or why not?

I Really Really Like You: a good drama gone bad

2009-04-19T10:21:00.000-07:00

Why do some dramas start off so incredibly well only to somehow totally morph into very bad shows? In the beginning absolutely nothing is lacking: the characters are great, the set-up is intriguing, the early episodes are really exciting and engaging, and you’re stoked to have found another gem from amidst all the lackluster kdramas out there. But then somewhere along the way the production team suddenly and inexplicably drops the ball, and you barely even recognize the show you’ve committed yourself to watching, and sometimes it’s a struggle just to finish watching the formerly awesome show. This is an unfortunate and sinister syndrome that tragically plagues many a kdrama production (I think sometimes it has to do with encroaching deadlines, but I’m not really sure.) In any case, it undoubtedly claimed 2006’s I Really Really Like You as one of its many victims.

I Really Really Like You (진짜 진짜 좋아해) tells the story of Yeo Bong-Soon (played by Eugene), a young woman who’s lived a primitive sort of life with her grandmother deep in the mountains of one of South Korea’s most rural provinces. One day she saves the life of an injured hiker, a young doctor named Jang Joon-Won (Ryu Jin) who also happens to be the son of the country’s president. Joon-Won, who does his best to lead an independent life, guards the secret of his parentage very closely from other people, including Bong-Soon. The man sent to fetch the injured Joon-Won from the mountains is Nam Bong-Gi (Lee Min-Ki), a young and irascible member of the presidential guard. When Bong-Soon’s grandmother passes away shortly afterwards, she comes to Seoul looking for her birth parents, a search that leads her straight to the Blue House itself (South Korean presidential residence, equivalent of the White House). There she finds herself caught up in the lives of the Blue House staff, Joon-Won and his family, Bong-Gi and his family, and eventually her own newly discovered family as well. Needless to say, the emphasis on family relationships is heavy, with lots of comedy and romance thrown into the mix.

Like I said, this drama started out really, really well. With some very poignant, touching moments, it often managed to be funny and sweet and even bittersweet at the same time. Eugene’s character (in the beginning) was endearing and quirky, if a little on the Pollyannaish side. And Lee Min-Ki was great. In fact, he’s pretty much the only thing that I was consistently good from start to finish; if not for him, I might not have been able to finish this longish series (34 episodes total.) His character was somewhat of an insensitive jerk at first, but then again Bong-Soon did cause the short-tempered guy a heck of a lot of trouble in the beginning, and the gradual revelation of his more sweet and thoughtful side was somehow made really believable. Plus, he was extremely cute. I never really understood all the fuss about Lee Min-Ki even after watching Mixed-Up Investigative Agency and Dal-Ja’s Spring, but this drama totally converted me. All in all, I really, really liked the first 10 or 15 episodes of I Really Really Like You.

Alas, my (strongly negative) feelings about episodes 15-34 basically cancel out my initially positive impression of the show, and then some. It was like the writers just got lazy or something; the plot started going in circles, the dialogue became really repetitive and annoying, and these insipid subplots started encroaching on the main storylines, which were also stagnating. Also, I Bong-Soon’s character began to frustrate me more and more, and when you can’t get fully behind the heroine the watching experience is sort of soured. It was a combination of both how the character was written and Eugene’s acting that drove me bonkers more and more as the show went on. For example, whenever Bong-Soon was troubled by some “Serious Issue”, Eugene would affect this by basically turning into a zombie, walking listlessly around with a dull, lifeless look in her eyes. It started to get really annoying, especially since I rarely had much sympathy for whatever her big problem was at the moment. Oh, so her mother didn’t exactly turn out to be the shining beacon of perfect parenthood that she’d envisioned? Well, parents are people too, and none of us get to choose ours either. It’s like moving to the big city turned Bong-Soon into a more whiny, selfish version of her happy, easy-going self. Or maybe I was just miffed at her for being totally oblivious to Nam Bong-Gi for practically the entire series.

Which brings me to yet another major complaint: the relationship between the main couple was way too one-sided for way too long. Yeah, she chose Bong-Gi in the end, but only after spending the whole series hung up over the other (duller, married) guy. For her to truly not have been aware of Bong-Gi's blatantly manifested feelings for so long, she'd have had to have been either extremely dense or (as I suspect) in subconscious denial. Either way, it just seemed sloppy to have her come around in the final two episodes and think, Hey, I might actually like Bong-Gi, and for everything to be fine and dandy all of a sudden. I just thought their relationship was sadly unbalanced, and therefore not nearly as satisfying as it could have been.

In the beginning, I couldn’t wait to watch each successive episode of this drama. By the end, it was a struggle to even get through them. It’s really too bad that the drama went so far south of watchable sometime in the middle. Pretty much the only thing that kept me going was the adorableness of Lee Min-Ki. In spite of how much I loved it at first, I can’t bring myself, in light of later developments, to recommend this drama with any conviction.

Music: whatever I may say about this drama, I did enjoy the soundtrack, of which I’ve posted two tracks below. The first is the opening theme, and the second is a really lovely instrumental version of one of the songs I really liked.

Joh Ah Hae - Eugene, Mr Burn

Uhn Duk.wma -

Looking ahead to True Blood season 2

2009-04-17T10:42:00.000-07:00

HBO's begun to promote the sophomore season of True Blood, their television adaptation of Charlaine Harris' series of vampire/supernatural/mystery novels. In spite of the strongly mixed nature of my feelings towards this show, I must admit I felt a little shiver of excitement when I saw these stills. So I guess I'll be tuning in June 14th for the premiere of season 2. Let's take a look, shall we?

Let's see... We've got Bill and Sookie, the two luvy-dove birds, being all sweet together. Here's hoping for lots of wrenches to be thrown into that relationship in season two. Personally, I enjoyed the books a heck of a lot more after she ditched him and stood on her own for a while. Next up we've got Eric (yay, my favorite character), along with subbordinates Pam and Chow all putting their game faces on, so to speak. Below that is a picture of what I can only assume is a new waitress at Merlotte's. In the books, the bar's staff has a pretty quick turnover (with a few exceptions of course), but I guess this girl has a pretty significant role in season two judging from this photo. And then we come to my favorite still, featuring Eric's shorter hair! This is taken from the promotional video, not from an actual episode, but I heart it so there.

Starting from the top of the right column, we've got Jason finding (mis)guidance from the fanatical, cultish religious group known as the Fellowship of the Sun. I think he's still got a lot of lingering guilt from everything that went down in season one, but of course, being Jason Stackhouse, he's going to deal with it in the most boneheaded way possible. Below that we've got some kind of shindig happening at Merlotte's, and Michelle Forbes' character on the dance floor with none other than detective Andy Bellefleur. And finally, we have Sookie with Tara and Sam all gazing pretty intently offscreen at something that just went down. Because in Bon Temps, there's always something that's just gone down.

If a picture's worth a thousand words, how about a video? Here's the recently released promo for season two:

Let's see... Wierdness? check. Blood? check. Sex? check. Yup, looks like True Blood's back in business. This show walks a pretty fine line between kitsch and cool. Sometimes I find myself bemoaning the blatant proliferation of hackneyed genre stereotypes, while other times I find the show's innovative use of those same steryotypes to be very compelling. And then the rest of the time I'm just plain grossed out by the graphic imagery that constantly reminds me I'm watching an HBO production. In any case, the show is very different from the novels. They took a lot of the same characters and storylines, but they managed to give birth to en entirely new breed. Which is, I guess, what an adaptation should be. So, yeah, I'll give season two a shot.

Second volumes of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Go West!

2009-04-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

After finishing the sophomore installments of these two series, I find myself sufficiently satisfied with one and sadly disappointed in the other. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya vol. 2 continues to foster my pre-established affection for the franchise, while Go West! vol. 2 frustrates my formerly optimistic expectations. I've got quite a bit to say about tMoHS and a little bit about Go West!, so here we go.

The manga adaptation of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya currently being released in English by Yen Press is only one component of an insanely popular franchise. It all began in 2003 with the publication of the first in a series of light novels by Nagaru Tanigawa. The light novel series is still going strong, but now there's also an anime production, a manga adaptation, and a passionately devoted fanbase both in Japan and across the globe that's growing bigger all the time. It's actually quite the popular phenomenon and it's taking otaku nation by storm; anybody identifying themselves as part of that nation had better be prepared to either join it or fight it, because there just ain't no ignoring it.

I myself first got hooked on Haruhi through the anime series. Source material aside, it's just a really well produced show distributed by Bandai Entertainment. The animation is high quality, the art is solid and detailed, and the voice acting is amazing (I cannot recommend the subbed version over the dubbed one strongly enough). Plus, the story is really bizarre and fun. I had a real bitch of a time trying to effectively summarize the plot - it's definitely not a twenty-words-or-less premise - so I'll just give the (slightly edited) Wikipedia version:

A high school girl named Haruhi Suzumiya is obsessed with the supernatural and forms the SOS Brigade to investigate mysterious happenings. Narrated by her classmate Kyon, who had given up his belief in the supernatural before meeting her, the story follows as Haruhi and those around her are drawn into surreal situations and a world full of fantasies... Haruhi recruits three additional members into her club, without realizing they are the very beings she is seeking. Among them are Yuki Nagato, a silent bibliophile who is actually an artificial human created by the extraterrestrial Integrated Data Entity; shy and timid Mikuru Asahina who is also a time traveler; and the easygoing Itsuki Koizumi who is actually one of many espers in an organization known as The Agency. Each of the members, except Kyon, are secret agents who were sent to observe Haruhi because she herself has unique powers of which she is unaware. It turns out she may actually control the universe, able to destroy and recreate it at will when she becomes too dissatisfied with it. In order to prevent this, the members of Haruhi's club spend their time attempting to keep their god-like leader entertained, hold her powers in check, and maintain the illusion of a normal life.

This story is just really weird and fun and different. I love how it tackles elements of fantasy through the lens of Kyon's thoroughly-grounded-in-the-real-world skepticism. The manga thus far follows the storyline pretty faithfully, so if you liked the anime you'll probably like this as well. However, I can understand how the manga would appeal less to those unfamiliar with the story and characters, as it's noticeably inferior to the animated version in terms of art and execution. I can't speak for the light novels as I haven't read any, but I would definitely recommend the anime over the manga for people new to the story. Yet as an illustration of something I already know and love, the manga's working pretty well for me so far. I'm looking forward to volume three, which comes out in June.

I only wish I could feel as happy about the (relatively) new series by Yu Yagami being published by CMX. Unfortunately, Go West! is not looking very promising after volume two. I picked up the first issue in the bookstore in January because I was intrigued by the cover art and synopsis, and because I'm always on the lookout for titles to diversify my shoujo-heavy collection. And so, ever the optimist, I hoped the potential I saw in its art and story would outweigh my qualms about its less than tasteful execution. Unfortunately, after reading the second volume I don't thing that's going to happen. It's a shame, really, because I did so want to like this series; I had a good feeling about it from the beginning, which I tried to hold on to for as long as possible, but I think now it's time to let go.

Go West! takes place against the backdrop of the quintessential stereotype of the American Old West (you know, tumbleweeds, saloons, cowboys, the whole shebang) and tells the story of an East Asian girl (presumably Japanese, although it's not specified) named Naomi who embarks on an epic westward journey in search of her missing family. Along the way she meets some very, ah, interesting characters who seem to think they're related to Naomi. Hilarity (and confusion and explosions) ensue.

My main problem with this series was that it was supposed to be a comedy and I didn't really find it that funny. Maybe it's just not my particular brand of humor, but I really disliked the hyperbolically exaggerated, overly simplistic, blatantly stereotypical way this series depicts the American West and, to a certain extent, its various ethnic groups. I know the author's going for comic effect, but it just didn't work for me. The oh-so-hilarious antics of the red, white, and black (as viewed by the bemused, level-headed Asian protagonist) probably appeal a lot more to Japanese audiences. Plus, I just didn't particularly enjoy the tone of the series: too heavy on the slapstick and explosions, too light on the family storyline (which is swiss-cheesy enough already.) So it is with the bitterness of disappointed hopes that I officially discontinue my patronage of this series.

Gustave Flaubert is an evil genius

2009-04-10T10:30:00.001-07:00

I finally finished Madame Bovary this week, but I almost didn't write anything about it here for a couple of reasons. Since its initial publication in 1857 the novel has been one of the most widely discussed/debated/dissected works of western literature. At the time of its publication it represented a significant rupture with classic French literature that was not really understood by critics of that period. Both modernist and post-modernist literary critics would later hearken back to Flaubert and identify in his work the roots of their own ideals (which in and of itself speaks to the multiplicity of interpretations the book affords). Considering all the historical and ongoing discussion surrounding Madame Bovary, not to mention the novel's sheer complexity, what could I possibly say about the book that would be worthwhile? But then I thought, Aw hell, I slogged my way through this whopping 19th century novel, in French no less, and I'll be damned if I don't at least have an opinion about it. Or at the very least a reaction, however insignificant. So here goes.

In the course of my reading of Madame Bovary I found myself constantly torn between the desire to laugh and the desire to cry. By that I only mean that all aspects of the novel afford many potential interpretations that range from the cynical to the satirical, but rarely fall unequivocally into one camp or the other. The book's just dripping in irony, a fact that nevertheless allows for certain characters to be portrayed both sympathetically and negitavely in turn. Even the penultimate scene of the book (Emma's death) has elements of both humor and tragedy alike. That's what Madame Bovary really is, among other things: a tragicomedy, deftly told by a rather ambiguously affiliated narrator.

Certain elements of the book were also very disturbing to me. It isn't just a novel about adultery with respect to Emma's extramarital affairs, but rather a novel about adulteration on a much larger scale: the corruption and perversity that pervades all aspects of society. One definitely gets the sense, reading Madame Bovary, that Flaubert didn't really think too highly of nineteenth century France, or of the human condition in general. But what really scared me about this book more than anything else was how close to home parts of it hit, and how it made me relate to a very unlikable heroine.

Like many aspects of this novel, the character of Emma Bovary is complex, elusive, difficult to pin down from a reader's perspective, and open to a variety of interpretations. For someone of my relative insecurity it was difficult not to read in her the confirmation of the things I most fear to be true about myself: for example, her warped view of reality, overly distorted by the medium of fiction and fantasy, her duplicitousness, and ultimately her weakness. I do consider myself to be rather more self aware of my own problems than Emma is, but I can't help sympathizing with her in all her misguidedness. I'm not her, but if I had lived under the intellectual, psychological, and social restraints that were placed on women in 19th century France, I can understand how I might have turned out similarly. Which is kind of a sobering thought considering the fact that by the end of the novel Emma is wretchedly miserable, a psychological mess, a liar, an adulteress, a debtor, and a suicide victim.

Of Flaubert's genius there can be no doubt. Yet did he use his powers for good or for evil? That's a harder question for me to answer. When I was reading Madame Bovary I felt like his writing exposed me in some way, revealing and forcing me to confront something banal and unattractive about myself. Needless to say, it did not leave an entirely pleasant taste in my mouth. Yet nor was it wholly unpalatable. It was rather like the bitter taste of just desserts. Something Emma would have hated.

(***Quick language note: I read the novel in the original French, but I also referenced the English translation from time to time on the internet. I tried to balence out my desire to stick to the original text with my desire to maximize my actual comprehension of this really complex novel. It took me quite a while to get through it, but I felt pretty good and proud when I finally did.)

Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang is still delightful

2009-04-06T11:49:00.000-07:00

Since I’m going to be talking about Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang in this post, I wanted to put up this song from the soundtrack. This show has a lot of really good songs, and I’ve got a bunch of them on my ipod, but this one is my favorite.

Mi Ahn Hae Ya Ha Neun Guh Ni - As-One (에즈원)

Looking back, I've watched a rather obscene amount of kdramas in the past year or two. (For the uninitiated, those are South Korea television series). It helps that at about 16-24 episodes each they're mostly much shorter than their multi-seasonal American counterparts. Yet until recently I never went back and re-watched a kdrama in its entirety from start to finish. To be fair, I did re-watch certain parts of Coffee Prince a lot, but I never went through all the episodes consecutively for a second time. But just this past week I had the sudden desire to revisit a series I initially watched about a year ago, and I ended up re-watching every single episode, and falling in love with it all over again. So I decided to write a nice, happy post about how much I adore “Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang”.

The 2005 series Delightful Girl Choon-Hyang (or Sassy Girl Choon-Hyang) draws on a famous traditional Korean love story, the Legend of Choon-Hyang, and reinterprets it in a modern setting. This is not an original device, but it’s one that’s done extremely well in this case. For anyone who’s ever wondered whether or not it’s possible to mix melodrama of Romeo-and-Juliet proportions with modern, trendy romantic comedy, well, the answer is DGCH. This series manages all that and more. Plus, the two leads are made of awesome.

Han Chae-Young, who just might be the prettiest woman to walk the face of the earth, plays Sung Choon-Hyang with a delightful sense of sass and spunk. But the real standout here is Jae Hee, who plays Lee Mong-Ryong. He pulls some of the best facial expressions you’ll ever see, and he manages to hit the comedic notes in such an endearing way as to make you totally forgive him and even love him for his goofiness. But in addition to that, during the more dramatic/emotional moments this guy can emote like no other. He really delivers both excellent comedy and excellent intensity in this drama, whereas a lot of other drama dudes’ acting tends to seem more stiff and forced to me. Add to all this his great chemistry with Han Chae-Young and you’ve got one pretty irresistible package.

Another thing I really like about this drama was the way it handles the passing of time. The story follows the characters from high school, through college (well, some of them go to college), and into early adulthood. This all somehow happens very naturally and smoothly over the course of seventeen 65 minute episodes. One really gets a sense of Choon-Hyang’s and Mong-Ryong’s growth, and the growth of their relationships, while they still remain true to the characters we originally fell in love with in episode one. Whereas many other dramas tend inevitably to slow down or drag after the initial premise is established, DGCH keeps the plot moving and pulls you along with it for an emotional roller-coaster ride.

Another thing that was cool about this drama was that at the end of the episodes there would usually be short parodies of the popular folk legend on which it’s based, with the actors dressed in traditional garb acting out spoofs of the Choon-Hyang story on sets imitating those of period dramas. It’s actually very clever how these short sketches sometimes reflected what was going on in the drama itself, and sometimes merely spoofed particular elements of the traditional version of the story.

All this being said, I’m not entirely blind to the drama’s faults. But although DGCH does have a lot of the stereotypical kdrama clichés (including but not limited to the ever ubiquitous love square), it somehow manages to use them in such a way as to make me forget that they’re clichéd. And although this drama did have a ridiculous amount of crazy and unrealistic u-turns on the part of the male drivers, I take comfort in the fact that there wasn’t a single back-hug in the entire thing! (I think.)

So in conclusion, anybody remotely interested in kdramas should check out DGCH because it’s one of the best in my opinion. See this fan-made video for a sense of the delightfully humorous elements, and this one for an idea of the more dramatic, emotional components.

Dollhouse episodes 6 &7: the plot thickens

2009-03-30T13:51:00.001-07:00

In fact, it's even starting to congeal. But is that good or bad? Is it just too little too late, or is it the beginnings of awesomeness? Difficult to say, really. I always find it hard to write about this show, if for no other reason than because it's just so gosh-darn complicated. There hasn't been a single episode thus far that could be reduced to a 20-words-or-less explanation, and you can just forget about summing up the whole series' premise in one sentence. Anybody who's tried to explain this show to an ignorant friend knows exactly what I'm talking about. On the one hand, this is good; Dollhouse is not a stupid show. It's not hackneyed or cliché or simplistic. On the other hand, there are definitely reviewers and critics who think the show's trying to be so many things at once that it ends up being nothing much in particular. Yet Joss Whedon's creations have never really been tailored to the expectations of the casual viewer. They're much more suited to cult followings than to mainstream audiences. All in all, some people might scoff and ratings basically suck, but I'm officially invested in the rest of this season, and I'm kind of hoping there will be more in the future.

So, episodes six and seven contained some major plot developments. Firstly, Mellie, Paul Ballard's neighbor and the closest thing he has to a friend, is actually an Active herself (her Doll name is November). Also, there's somebody else on the outside (other than Ballard) who's trying to bring the Dollhouse down. And unlike Paul, this person seems to have considerable knowledge of the Dollhouse's inerworkings, and has even managed to plant a mole on the inside who can tamper with the imprints if necessary. I can only assume at this point that this person is Alpha, and I'm betting the mole is Topher's sacrastic assistant, but who knows. Thirdly, we find out that "the" Dollhouse is actually only a Dollhouse. There are apparently Dollhouses in major cities all across the globe, all run by a single corporation for an as-of-yet unknown purpose. We've been lead to believe up till now that the actives' engagements are the main purpose of the Dollhouse, the actual reason for its existence. But now it seems that the engagements merely provide funding for the organization's true purpose, whatever that may be.

Episode six proved that the show is not afraid to tackle some pretty ugly themes. The sexual abuse of a Doll by a handler, for example, I found particularly disturbing. It was sick, really, the way Hearn would tell Sierra it was a game, and that she had to be very quiet because "noise is upsetting", and of course she wouldn't think to resist, but she would cry and say that the game wasn't fun. Talk about your abuse of power. Ugh. The violent scene with Mellie/November was also pretty intense. It was upsetting without being graphic, and kind of creepy. This episode in particular had some really great plot-twist revelation moments, not the least of which was when Adelle dropped the "trigger" to turn the choking Mellie into a very scary kick-ass November.

While episode six was pretty gritty, episode seven gave us a healthy dose of humor while still maintaining much of that intensity (in general this is not a very light or jokey show). The best thing about the whole cast being affected by a wierd drug that breaks down their natural inhibitions is that we get to learn lots of interesting things about these characters. Boyd plays the piano, for example. More shockingly, Adelle has a conscience. And so does Mr. Dominic! And Topher - well, actually, he pretty much acted the way he always does. Anyways, it was pretty frickin hilarious watching him and Adelle blunder around together and argue about British-ness and eat chips on the floor and cower in the corner to hide froma potentially violent November. Additionally, this episode also revealed some more information on who Caroline was before she became Echo, and it wasnt' exactly the sort of thing I would have expected.

Anyways, the more I watch this show the more I like it, so I'm sticking with it. So, check out this montage style recap of episode seven, "Echoes", and be excited for episode eight.

First volumes of Fire Investigator Nanase, The Name of the Flower

2009-03-18T00:06:00.000-07:00

Ah, nothing more satisfying than starting two brand-new, promising manga series. I ordered the recently released first volumes of these two babies from CMX, and I'm very satisfied with my purchases. These two series are very different from each other, and they each present fresh and interesting-seeming premises even within their own individual genres.

The Name of the Flower, by Ken Saito, falls somewhere in the middle ground between shoujo and josei, relying more on the strengths of its story and characters than on the standard devices and trappings of either genre. The art is rich and appealing without being gratuitously fantastical, and the story is poignant and reflective, but with enough touches of genuine humor to keep things from getting too slow or heavy. The main characters are both misfits in their own ways: flawed, damaged, but desirous and deserving of love.

Chouko is a girl who's sustained severe emotional and psychological damage after losing both her parents in a car accident. She completely shuts herself off out of grief, unable to connect with the people around her, or even to speak at all. After being passed around rather unceremoniously from relative to relative, she's finally ended up in the care of her father's cousin, Kei. Kei is a successful but gruff and reclusive author, and a man twelve years her senior. He brusquely tells her he'll pay her college tuition in return for her cooking and house keeping, and that she must above all refrain from moping around like some kind of melancholy lost soul. In order to keep her active and occupied, he casually suggests she tend his neglected garden, but for the most part he lets her alone. Slowly, gradually, in caring for the flowers and for her surly and cynical guardian, Chouko begins to emerge from within herself, to smile, and to speak. What I especially like about Chouko is that while Kei is instrumental in her recovery, she ultimately pulls her own self out of whatever dark, destructive place she was in. He silently watches over her and provides her with the necessary tools, but she is the one who must use them. She sort of learns that nobody can help you if you're unwilling to help yourself, which I thought was kind of cool.

Kei, meanwhile, has his own issues. He's achieved a degree of literary success and acclaim, but his dark, almost disturbing work seems to hint at a deeply troubled soul. He gives off the vibe of someone who doesn't feel like he deserves love, but his feelings manifest themselves as curtness and standoffishness rather than melodramatic moaning and groaning. He's gruff and anti-social, but he does genuinely care about Chouko. In fact, he cares a little bit too much. Painfully aware of the huge age difference between them, of Chouko's own inexperience, and the inappropriateness of his feelings given his role as her guardian, he does his best to keep his distance and to care for her from the background. Overall, I love this series already. I love both main characters, and I even love the comic-relief-friend Akiyama. There's lots of love; I can't wait for volume two to come out.

The first volume of Fire Investigator Nanase (story by Izo Hashimoto, art by Tomoshige Ichikawa) wasn't quite as much of a slam-dunk for me as TNotF, but it still promises to be a very enjoyable and entertaining series. I was initially drawn to it because it was likened by reviewers to one of my favorite movies of all time, "The Silence of the Lambs". The comparison is pretty apt, at least as far as the premise goes. We've got the young, driven female rookie in a male-dominated crime fighting organization who's got talent and guts, but is often held back by her self-satisfied superiors. We've got the brilliantly insane criminal who alone seems to recognize her potential, and who enjoys guiding and coaching her in solving crimes. At the same time, FIN is manga, so it's a whole different kettle of fish.

As the title would suggest, Nanase is a trainee in the section of the fire department that investigates the origins of fires, identifying and solving arson cases. As she sifts through various cases of mysterious fires, Nanase receives helpful hints (and some brutal trials) from the still-at-large serial arsonist known to the authorities only as Firebug. This Firebug character is pretty certifiable, but he knows his stuff better than anyone on the other side of the law. His motives for helping Nanase remain as of yet unclear, but we do seem to find out that he was the arsonist responsible for the fire that killed her parents. One can only imagine the mixed-ness of Nanase's feelings on receiving help from him. (I actually just now realized that both TNotF and FIN feature orphaned heroines. It just goes to show how different the two series are that I didn't notice such a huge similarity right away.)

I thought FIN was exciting and entertaining, and I think it'll be a great series, but I did have a few reservations about it. I didn't really like how it toed the line between fantasy and realism. It would start off seemingly grounded in a very realistic world, but then suddenly something really far-fetched would happen to make me question the parameters of the characters' reality. Maybe once I get a little more used to the series I won't find it so jarring, but it felt a little weird on the first reading. The author also relies pretty heavily on some scientific fire jargon that flew right over my head. It's kind of difficult to evaluate a scenario's plausibility when I can't even understand the language used to describe it. So maybe I should just stop trying to figure out how realistic FIN is supposed to be and just go with the flow.

I really liked the whole theme of the investigation of fires. I think it's a very mysterious and intriguing subject, but then again that might really be because of my lingering associations from reading the Lemony Snicket books. And while Nanase's department is a far cry from the cultish Volunteer Fire Department of those books, she's certainly got enough unsolved mysteries (both private and public) to be getting on with.

Now for the wait until May when the second volumes of these two titles will be released by CMX. Sigh.

Dollhouse, episodes 2-4: hope springs eternal

2009-03-15T17:36:00.000-07:00

Note: I wrote this before I watched the most recent (fifth) episode. After watching the fifth episode the general impressions I expressed in this post remain unchanged, so I'll leave what I've already written. Also, I'd just like to say that I wrote this in a very sleep-deprived state.

So a few weeks ago I wrote about my belated discovery of Joss Whedon's new show Dollhouse, and about my mixed reactions to the first episode. Now we're four weeks into the season's run, with the fifth episode soon to air, and although I'm not completely hooked (yet) I am still watching and hoping for great things to develop. The first four episodes were undeniably flawed, so maybe I'm just clutching vainly at straws and putting too much blind faith in Whedon's name. But still, I'll try to artiulate my reasons for believing that this show has lots of (as of yet unrealized) potential.

Thus far in the series, each episode consists of a different engagement for Echo that inevitaby goes awry in some way, forcing her to deal with situations for which Topher's imprints have not quite prepared her - something that goes against the very definition of what an active is/does. As Boyd, her handler, observes to Dr Saunders (the Dollhouse's resident physician, played by Amy Acker), "She seems to have the ability to think outside of the pieces we give her and create." So far this strange proactivity (remarkable in an active), as well as brief flashes of almost awareness in her eyes, and subtle hints of her retaining traces of her experiences in the engagements - these are the only things providing any sort of continuity to Echo's character. But I'm sure that will change as we learn more about her former (true? original?) identity as Caroline.

Meanwhile, the solitary, relentless FBI agent Paul Ballard continues his seemingly hopeless search for clues about the Dollhouse. He's continually finding his way blocked by the higher-ups who dismiss the Dollhouse as an urban legend (or who perhaps wish to keep him from exposing its existence). The clueless Russian mobster whom Ballard seems convinced has access to Dollhouse-related info actually actually turns out to be an active named Victor, no doubt imprinted planted to put Ballard off the trail. We also learn about the existence of a rogue active named Alpha who escaped from the Dollhouse at some point in the (recent?) past, but not before going on a bit of a killing spree first. This Alpha guy is very mysterious, and he's got "big bad" written all over him, but he also seems somehow to be connected to Echo/Caroline. He's even ananymously sent Ballard photos of her before she became an active, along with the cryptic message "keep looking." Oh, and I read somewhere that Alpha's going to be played by Alan Tudyk. Psych!

And that doesn't even cover everything that's already going on in this show. There's definitely some pretty complex, intriguing, mysterious stuff just beginning to evolve, but a show can't survive on this alone. It must also be thoroughly (not just mildly) enjoyable to watch, and so far each episode's been hampered by lackluster scripts and scenarios. There's also been a conspicuous lack of that quircky, quippy dialogue one customarily associates with Whedon' s works, and the stand-alone storylines of Echo's individual engagements have been decent enough, but nothing really extraordinary. There have been hints at really interesting things starting to percolate, but that's it - hints sprinkled throughout episodes that for the most part fall a tiny bit flat. But I still think this is just a show that hasn't yet reached its full potential. There's so much backstory (for Echo, Alpha, Ballard, and probably many others) that's so clearly being witheld at this point. There's so much that could be explored that isn't yet.

There are also certain other factors that give me hope for this show's future improvement, and many of them concern network politics. If one is optimistic enough, the disorganized pilot and the not-completely-satisfying first few episodes could possibly be chalked up to Fox's meddling. The original preview for the show (the same one I included in my previous Dollhouse post) consisted entirely of clips from the original pilot, which was yanked by Fox and never aired. After giving the show the green light, the network apparently wanted so many changes and redirection done to that first episode that Whedon decided to scrap it and start from scratch. And that wasn't the end of it either, because it supposedly wasn't until the sixth episode that Fox really gave Whedon free creative reign over the show. And word on the cyber street is that things really take off in that sixth episode. And while all this talk might come to nothing, I'm somewhat inclined to believe it won't. Why? Well, optimism for one thing, and also the fact that I read the script of the unaired pilot (penned by Whedon) and noticed a huge difference from what I've seen of the show so far. That script was, in a word, awesome. I guess I can understand Fox wanting to make the show more "accessible" to people, but I really don't think they're going to score big ratings (on Friday nights, no less) by stiffling Whedon's wierdness. Because he is an evil genius after all, but in a decidedly good way.

As far as acting goes, Dollhouse's got a pretty good supporing cast, and I kind of love the side characters already. It's still a little difficult to really connect with Echo as a character, what with all the constant changes and everything, but I think Dushku's doing a pretty good job, regardless. Especially with Echo's more fragile, vulnerable moments. I'm used to a seeing a more kickass Faith-type from her, so it's nice to see a bit of range in that department.

Just one final consideration: all of Whedon's shows that I've seen (Buffy, Angel, Firefly) had more or less shaky starts. Considering how they all turned out, I'd say a little bit of faith and patience is justified with his latest endeavor. That being said, if that sixth episode doesn't turn out to be a real knockout I'll be sorely dissapointed.

"I want more" Claudia: Interview with Lestat the Musical

2009-03-08T09:21:00.000-07:00

Ok, so funny thing happened to me this weekend. I'm minding my own business, going about my life, when BAM! I'm suddenly sucked up into the magnetic vortex of Anne Rice's vampire universe. Why do I let this happen to myself? Why? WHY? I wasn't even looking for it or anything. It's like stepping out into the street when you think the coast is clear and getting blindsided by a huge truck. The truck of fandom. The fan van, if you will.

Oh, well. First, a sort of disclaimer: I've never actually read any of Anne Rice's books, but I now have an actual interest in possibly doing so, thanks to the 1994 movie and the musical. Am I planning on going out and reading them right away? Probably not right this second, what with school and everything. But whereas before this weekend I'd never have even thought of picking up one of these books, I can now see myself doing so sometime in the future.

So anyways, it all started with Youtube, the evil sucker of time. I was looking something up, and I sumbled quite by acident onto a clip from the '94 film "Interview With the Vampire". So I watch the scene, in which Claudia (played by a 10-year-old Kirsten Dunst) argues heatedly with Louis (Brad Pitt), and I though to myself, Huh. This is kind of interesting. And wouldn't you know, some evil person has uploaded the entire film on Youtube? So I somehow mysteriously end up watching the whole thing from start to finish. What can I say? I am weak, and cannot help myself, and I shall never ever learn.

Parts of the film were weird and icky and gross, but then other parts were very strongly and strangely compelling. Especially the character of Claudia, the eternally ageless vampire child, whom I found really tragic and fascinating. And boy did Dunst do an awesome job of portraying a person of great age as such a young actress, not to mention Claudia's intense pain and anger. I don't think I've seen Dunst act better in any other role she's taken on since. Brad Pitt was also awesome as Louis. (Who knew the sexiest man alive could look so delicate - all flowing hair and big eyes. Me like.) My very favorite part of the movie *spoiler coming* was towards the end when Louis rejects Armand after Claudia's death. I shall not deny that a part of me was saying Boo ya! In your face, Armand, take that! Sooooo, anyways. For the record, I'll also say that I thought Antonio Banderas was poorly cast as Armand, and although Tom Cruise did very well as Lestat his character was way too creepy and gross for me. All in all, the film went a little too over the top at points, but nevertheless managed to pull me in and make me care.

So, I watch the movie and end up getting pretty into it. But wait, there's more. Youtube's not quite finished with me yet, oh no, because one of the 'related videos' that pops up on the side of the page is a bootleg from the musical version, Lestat. I just so happen to be a musical theatre fan, so here we go again. Turns out, the show draws a lot from at least one other book in the series in addition to Interview, so there was a lot in it I didn't fully appreciate. It got pretty horrible reviews, and closed early on Broadway (although that doesn't always mean anything), but there were a few scenes/songs that I really liked. The best, in my opinion, was "I Want More", sung by Claudia. (She is the best character, after all. Great performance by Allison Fischer, by the way.) I also liked "I'll Never Have That Chance", "Kill Your Kind", and "After All This Time". The score's by Elton John, whose musicals in my opinion tend to range from bland to beautiful, but HE NEVER RELEASED THE SOUNDTRACK. It was recorded by the cast, but its release was postponed indefinitely and, as far as I can tell, no real reason was given for this. That was three years ago. Wtf? Grr, arrg, frustration. Oh, well. In scouring the internet for some kind of clue, the only thing I managed to find was a partial press demo of some of the songs from the live try out runs in San Francisco. Totally not good enough.

So thank you Youtube. Thank you for sucking up a significant portion of my weekend and giving me one more thing to be all fan-y about, and for seeing to it that I spend my entire Sunday with "I Want More" stuck in my head. I hope you're happy.

Mansfield Park: not so much with the liking

2009-03-08T00:56:00.000-08:00

So, after reading a bunch of manga and lighter novels recently I was in the mood for something a little more antiquated, and decided to tackle Mansfield Park. I’d told myself at the beginning of the year that by the end of 2009 I would have finally read all six Austen novels, and I happened to have this one lying around in my room, so there you go. Now the only ones left are Persuasion and Northanger Abbey. Yay me.

It’s funny, but whereas most people I encounter tend to either love or hate Jane Austen’s novels across the board I myself have a pretty evenly split opinion of them thus far; I’ve read two that I really liked (Emma and Pride & Prejudice) and two that I really didn’t (Sense & Sensibility and, now, Mansfield Park). It’s not that I downright hated this book (or S&S for that matter), but it just left me decidedly underwhelmed. In comparison with some of her other works, I found the characterization in Mansfield Park to be artificial and unbelievable. And at the end of the day an Austen novel is pretty much all about the characters.

As I was reading the book, I kept thinking of this one line from the film “The Jane Austen Book Club”. It’s the part where Allegra says to the others, “Aw, I hate Fanny Price, she’s such a goody-goody,” and I gotta say I totally see her point. Fanny is sweetness and goodness and incorruptibility personified, but she’s also dull as a doormat. Shy and soft-spoken, pure and virtuous, meek and humble and … not at all like a real, solid person of flesh and blood. (Does that make any sense at all? I think I’m having a little trouble articulating my meaning.) I wouldn’t even mind her quiet meekness so much if she only had the tiniest spark of something going on underneath the surface to make her the least bit interesting to readers. But, sadly, such is not the case. Now, I don’t mean to belittle Fanny’s virtues, which are considerable. If Fanny Price were a real person (which would not be remotely possible) I’d hardly be able to criticize her. In fact, she’d be so high above reproach she’d already be in Heaven. But as a fictional character, and the heroine of a novel, she is sadly lacking.

I guess I just like characters that are a little off beat, that have some quirks. With Fanny, it’s not just that she’s off beat; she doesn’t even have a rhythm. But just for the record, I don’t dislike her (as a heroine) because she’s shy. Jane Eyre was shy and diffident and reclusive, but underneath that exterior she was passionate, and she knew her own worth and when to assert it. Fanny, on the other hand, seems to have true self-esteem issues, which Austen moulds into a model of feminine virtue. If only Fanny would just once stand up for herself to her aunt or to Mary Crawford, or even to Edmund when she knows he’s making a terrible mistake! Would that really be too selfish of her? Would it diminish her goodness in any way? Apparently so, for she’d rather sit back until the very end rather than come forward and speak for herself, ready to sacrifice her happiness and Edmund’s as well. In the end, a change in circumstance, rather than her own initiative, results in her happy ending. I suppose we’re meant to understand that she’s been rewarded for her patience and silent suffering, but I say she just got lucky.

I was not particularly enthused about our romantic hero in this book either. For all that the narrator keeps reminding us how admirable and decent Edmund is, I rarely saw it reflected in his actions. He seemed to me to be pretty dense, self-absorbed, self-deluding, and (occasionally) hypocritical. Until the last three pages of the novel, of course, when he the clouds are lifted from his eyes and he sees the error of his ways, all thanks to a last-minute turn of events. Yeah, I was not impressed.

I’m glad I didn’t read Mansfield Park first out of Austen’s novels because it seriously might have turned me off the rest. Fortunately I know that she’s equally capable of turning out well-rounded, interesting characters as well. In spite of everything, I didn’t completely hate reading MP. I still really enjoy the language of it, and I appreciate Austen’s skillful mode of expression, even when what she’s expressing isn’t especially to my taste. I just hope that next time around I like the actual story and characters a little better.

Memories of Inu Yasha, and of falling in love with manga

2009-03-05T11:39:00.000-08:00

Ugh, school’s been a bitch recently. I don’t know when all the professors got together and decided that March was the new April, but it’s starting to tick me off. My course load was just as heavy last term, but I don’t remember being this swamped in the first half of the semester. Sigh, it’s almost as if they wanted me to actually learn stuff. They can be like that sometimes. Anyways, enough whining for now.

Inu Yasha (by Rumiko Takahashi, creator of Ranma ½, One Pound Gospel, Maison Ikkoku and others) is a series that I’ve read most of, but own very little of. I never buy the new ones when they come out (the series is really long and it’s been quite a while since I’ve read it), but I recently acquired the first four volumes in a trade, and I really enjoyed rereading them. It evoked pretty strong feelings of nostalgia for me because Inu Yasha was basically like my first manga love from way back when. So rather than try to review these first four volumes, or even (God forbid) the series as a whole, I’d like to reminisce a bit about what it was like to get sucked into the wonderful and strange world of manga when I was just a clueless kid.

I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I think I was in middle school. It was summer vacation, and I’d stayed up watching television after everyone else in my family had gone to bed. Flicking randomly through the channels, it was the anime version of Inu Yasha, playing on Adult Swim, that captured and held my attention, probably because it just seemed so strange to me at the time. What exactly was this weird, un-cartoonlike cartoon? And why was it so intriguing? I don’t think I even really knew what anime was at that point, and I certainly hadn’t any interest in it. To me, anime was Pokemon and Yu-gi-oh, and it was for boys. But this Inu Yasha stuff was way different, and became almost immediately engrossed in the story. When the half-hour episode ended, the story was cut off abrubtly. I stayed up the next night to watch the continuation, but I didn’t talk about it to my parents or to any of my siblings.

It didn’t take long for my piqued interest to make the connection between the anime and the funny little backwards books in the back of the bookstore. So the next time the weather was nice, I asked my mother if I could go for a bike ride. I rode to the nearest Barnes and Noble, found the Inu Yasha books, and started at the very beginning. I read for hours, and I came back the next day. I came back as often as I could. I think my mom was vaguely pleased that I’d taken such an interest in bike riding. For my part, I liked the manga of Inu Yasha even better than the anime. I loved the art, the demon/ghost mythology, the backdrop of feudal Japan, the romance. I found it all irresistibly new and different and appealing.

I think I read over twenty volumes of Inu Yasha in that way, without anyone buy myself being the wiser. (I don’t even know why didn’t share any of this with anyone, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that from the very beginning I always had the distinct sense that manga and anime weren’t exactly mainstream, and a part of my kid self didn’t want to admit that I liked it. There was a reason that Inu Yasha only played on TV after midnight, at least that’s how I saw it. I’ve always had a secretive, reclusive streak in me and this just really brought it out.) Although my obsession with Inu Yasha eventually died down a bit, though not before I’d read all the volumes in the bookstore, I wouldn’t soon forget the experience. From then on, manga has always been an interest of mine, which has grown with me over the years and which I don’t think will go away anytime soon.

Given our history together, I probably am not capable of judging this series with anything resembling objectivity. I know that it’s flawed, of course. The plot becomes very repetitive and endlessly cyclical as the series goes on, and it drags on way too long. Yet it was so thoroughly captivating for me when I first encountered it that I’ve never been able to regard it with anything less than fondness and affection. As the first manga I ever read and truly loved, I think it’ll always hold a very special place in my heart, and, now, on my shelf.

Your & My Secret volumes 2-4

2009-02-23T17:26:00.001-08:00

Well, the wackiness continues as the plot spirals deeper and deeper into the gender-confused world of body-swapping. I recently picked up the first installment of this series by Ai Morinaga and really enjoyed it (review here), and now I’m fully caught up with all the volumes currently released in English. Your & My Secret continues to be hilarious and addictive. The artwork is enjoyable, and the story is engaging in spite of (or perhaps in part because of) its extreme implausibility.

A lot happens in these three volumes (Morinaga’s really good at keeping the plot moving along nicely; many manga series tend to stagnate once the basic premise is set up). So rather than try to give a thorough account of all the plot developments, I’ll just try to sum up the most important elements so I can talk a little about the characters and the series in general. Momoi Nanako (pretty but rude and violent) and Uehara Akira (gentle and unassuming) are still stuck , apparently indefinitely, in each other’s bodies. Momoi-in-Akira’s-body has fully embraced being a guy and has even started dating her pre-swap best friend Shiina, who for her part is quite taken with the suddenly strong and manly “Akira”. On the other hand, Akira’s pre-swap best friend, Senbongi, has taken quite an interest in the now demure Momoi-who-is-really-Akira. Oh, and we mustn’t forget that the real Akira harbors a longstanding, unrequited love for the real Momoi, whose body he now inhabits.

On the whole, the biggest disappointment of the series for me so far is the character of Momoi (the real Momoi, not the Akira-in-Momoi’s-body Momoi.) I kind of enjoyed her wildly exaggerated character in the beginning, back when I still thought she had hidden depths that would surely emerge over time. But no, she’s turning out to actually be exactly as shallow and selfish as she seems when you first meet her. She’s still funny and entertaining, I’m just kind of disappointed that she’s not turning out to be more of a diamond in the rough. She’s basically just a rough.

On the other hand, the most pleasant surprise has been the recent character development of Senbongi. At first I thought he was kind of scummy and even a bit of a jerk from the way he went chasing after Akira-in-Momoi’s-body, even though he knew about the real Akira’s feelings for her. But as their story progresses, and especially after Senbongi learns about the Swap (end of volume two), I find myself really warming up to him. It was difficult at first to figure him out or understand what makes him tick, but volume four provides a nice little backstory that gives some insight into Senbongi’s character and his relationship with Akira, which by this point has really become the main focus of the series. Or at least, it’s eclipsed the non-existent Akira/Momoi relationship that never really was to begin with.

Shiina’s a very likable character; she’s sweet and good, but not too unattainably perfect. She has her little moments of jealousies and insecurities that make her a real person and not just a foil for Momoi.

Akira’s really the heart of this series. We experience the story completely through his perspective, hearing all his thoughts and inner turmoil. He struggles a lot with being in a female body, especially since he was a very gentle, almost effeminate boy to begin with. He wants so badly to retain his masculine identity but is finding it increasingly difficult to do so. It’s quite understandable, what with the love of his life now being male and his relationship with his best friend being so completely turned around. Plus, being a girl just seems to come so much more naturally to Akira, just like being a guy seems more natural to Momoi. In the midst of all the surreality of body-swapping et al, Akira’s narrative voice rings pretty true.

Oh and let’s not forget our minor characters. The grandfather really is pretty vulgar, and I don’t find him that funny, but he’s not a major part of the series so it’s not that big of a deal for me. Katsupei, Shiina’s ridiculously overprotective older brother, is actually quite hilarious.

So that’s about all I have to say about volumes two through four of Ai Morinaga’s Your & My Secret. Volume 5 will be released by Tokyopop on May 5, 2009.

Fushigi Yuugi VizBig #1: volumes 1-3

2009-02-20T21:22:00.000-08:00

You know, these VizBig editions are a brilliant marketing strategy. They take a manga series, usually one with pretty longstanding popularity, and re-release it a larger format with two or three volumes bound in one book. Add in some extra features and some full color pages and you’ve got yourself a pretty enticing product. Not to mention the fact that you’re basically getting three volumes of manga for the price of two. I myself would never have decided on my own to purchase the early volumes of Fushigi Yuugi, despite the affection I have for the series, had Viz not offered them in this format. So that’s seventeen bucks they made off me alone just by giving Fushigi Yuugi the VizBig treatment.

Fushigi Yuugi is a pretty classic shoujo series from the 90s that not only was hugely popular in its own time, but has also sustained a considerable fan base (as well as heavy criticism; it’s basically one of those things you either love or loathe) in the decade or so since its conclusion. It has subsequently inspired an anime adaptation, several OVAs, and a manga prequel series, making Fushigi Yuugi quite the shoujo franchise. Yuu Watase, the artist who created the series back in 1992, has since gone on to write/draw several other very successful series such as Ayashi no Ceres, Absolute Boyfriend, and Imadoki (Nowadays). I was first introduced to Fushigi Yuugi through the anime adaptation of the series. I found it to be a bit silly, but lots of fun and full of shameless romantic fluff as well as some pretty decent humor. I ended up reading some of the latter volumes of the manga, but I never went back to the beginning of the series. So when the VizBig edition came out I grabbed it.

Fushigi Yuugi tells the story of a junior-high student named Miaka who actually reminds me a lot of Usagi from Sailormoon: ditzy, gluttonous, but with a heart of gold. Anyways, Miaka and her more mature, reserved friend Yui open a mysterious book called “The Universe of the Four Gods” while studying for their entrance exams in the library and get sucked right into the world of the book – a world somewhat resembling feudal China. Once there, Miaka is identified by the people as the legendary priestess of Suzaku, a girl from another world who will summon the god Suzaku to save the kingdom and be granted a wish of her own. Enticed by the prospect of a wish, Miaka readily agrees without fully considering what she’s getting herself into. In order to summon Suzaku, she must search out the seven celestial warriors from the land who are Suzaku’s servants and guardians of the priestess. Only when all seven are united may Suzaku be summoned. Due to a series of unfortunate circumstances and misunderstandings, Yui and Miaka have a bitter falling-out and Yui accepts the role as priestess of Seiryu for the neighboring rival kingdom. Now Miaka must consider Yui as her enemy if she is ever to succeed in summoning Suzaku and saving the kingdom she’s begun to love.

In the first three volumes, Miaka encounters four of the seven celestial warriors:

Tamahome, a young man who loves money like Miaka loves food
Hotohori, who’s actually the emperor of the land
Nuriko, a crossdressing pretty man with incredible strength and a prickly personality
Chichiri, a weird but cheerful dude who seems always to show up in a pinch before disappearing again

These guys are all lots of fun, especially as you get to know them as the series progresses.

In addition to all the adventure and romance, this series actually has a pretty good sense of humor. One of my favorite characters from the anime, Nuriko, is particularly hilarious. Watase also has the good sense not to take herself too seriously; she even includes little parodies of the more dramatic moments in the series that are actually pretty funny. Many manga artists like to include occasional side panels in which they kind of ramble on about whatever they feel like to the readers. I always read these, but I found Watase’s comments to be particularly interesting as she wrote them all in the early stages of her career when she was still struggling to find her niche as an artist. Fushigi Yuugi was her first really successful work, after all. Which brings me to another thing: I was really surprised at how different the art of these first three volumes looks when compared with her other series and even with the later volumes of this series. It seems like her art really has evolved a lot over the past fifteen years or so (Fushigi Yuugi was first published in 1992.)

In order to sort of play devil’s advocate, I will say that I can understand why a lot of people don’t like this series. It’s built upon a lot of clichés that many people find annoying: the ditzy yet lovable schoolgirl heroine, one main female character supported by a cast of guys, etc. Yet if you can look past all that, this series actually does have a lot to offer. It’s fun and funny, and the characters are enjoyable.

My one major complaint about this book is that the English translation pretty much sucked. I had to keep reminding myself that the dialogue probably sounds a heck of a lot better in the original Japanese every time I read a particularly awkward phrasing or misplaced colloquialism. Just another thing to look past in order to see the true merits of the material.

The VizBig edition includes some pages of art in color in the front and back, as well as a character introduction page, a sound effects glossary, and a Chinese-to-Japanese glossary. The second VizBig volume of this series, presumably containing volumes 4-6 is scheduled to be released in April. Stay tuned.

Episode one of season one of Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse

2009-02-19T21:51:00.001-08:00

Gah! I am the worst fan ever! I think I must have been living under a rock for the past few years of my life. How could I not know that Joss Whedon, (TV mastermind behind Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Firefly, Serenity, and most recently Dr Horrible’s Sing Along Blog) had a new TV show until after the first episode had already aired? What is wrong with me? Well, I usually don’t watch a show when it first airs, preferring rather to wait until it’s already gotten good before I jump on the bandwagon. But still, this wasn’t even on my radar until yesterday! I’m ashamed. Looking back, though, I’m glad I wasn’t aware ahead of time that this series was in the works, because I know I would’ve gotten way, way ahead of myself. I’d have waited and waited for it to premiere, banking on the magic of Joss Whedon, building up impossible expectations. As it is, the first episode wasn’t exactly a homerun for me (but then, the pilot doesn’t have to be a knockout for a series to be great), but it had definite potential. I’ve got a lot of faith in Joss that he knows what he’s doing, and that he won’t disappoint us. I hope he comes through.

One of the most jarring elements of the first episode for me was actually Eliza Dushku in the lead role. It’s just hard for me to not see her as Faith (her character on Buffy), and when she first appeared on the screen my initial reaction went something like, ‘No! Watch out, this bitch is psychotic, she’ll stab you in the back, look out!!!!’ (Side note: Yes, I know Faith had issues and eventually sort of redeemed herself, yadda yadda, but still. I’m a pretty patient, forgiving person when it comes to real life, but boy do I hold grudges against fictional characters. Uchiha Sasuke, for example? He’s dead to me.) Sooo, anyways, once I convinced myself that this was Echo, not Faith, the whole experience went along much more smoothely. I don’t think she’s a very consistent actress, but when she’s on she’s spot on, and I’m hoping she finds her footing and gets really comfortable in this role. As for the rest, time will tell. The first episode was a little scattered, but I think it has potential in the hands of Joss Whedon.

So, anyways, the basic premise has a kind of contemporary sci-fi vibe. The “Dollhouse” is a secret facility that houses the technology to erase a person’s mind, and reprogram it, giving them any conceivable personality, skills set, or attitude desired. These “dolls” are then hired out to anyone willing to pay the exorbitant fee in order to get exactly what they want or need. The dolls, also referred to as “actives” when programmed, are all young, healthy people who have ostensibly volunteered for this job, although none of them have any memory of doing so, of course. It’s still unclear exactly how aware they are of their true identities, but it seems like not very. They’re sort of blank in between jobs. The Dollhouse facility itself is a very lavish and nurturing place to live. Comfortable, yes. Creepy, most definely. I have no idea where Joss is going with this, but I trust that he’s got a destination in mind. So, I’ll be tuning in tonight to watch episode two on fox. Or I’ll watch it later on Hulu, but you get the idea.

The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak: death speaks

2009-02-17T21:38:00.000-08:00

Having once been something of a book thief myself during a period of my misguided youth, I was initially attracted to this book by the title. When I learned that it was actually a story about a young German girl who (sort of) stole books during the Third Reich, and that it was narrated by Death, I picked it up without hesitation. Honestly, how can you go wrong with a premise like that? Even if it wasn’t stellar, it was bound at the very least to be interesting. And it was, exceedingly so. The Book Thief was quite unlike any book I’ve ever read before, and although it frustrated me greatly on occasion, it also pleased me immensely and it did make me cry.

After introducing himself rather heavy-handedly (more on this below), Death begins to tell the story of a young girl named Liesel Meminger. A young German girl, the soon-to-be-orphaned Liesel is given over to the foster care of a house painter and his wife in a small town called Molching. The year is 1939. Over the course of the next four years, Leisel grows up in an increasingly deteriorating German society, facing hardship and tragedy, but also finding love and kindness in some really touching ways. Insignificant thought the small girl may seem amidst the terrors of war that slowly encroach on her tiny town, she nevertheless finds little ways to fight back. Throughout the course of the book, she sustains and supports not only herself but also those around her with the written word.

The Book Thief provides a fascinating perspective on the experiences of small town German citizens during the Second World War. Zusak’s own mother grew up in a town similar to Molching, and his father was an Austrian house painter. He has claimed to base much of The Book Thief on their stories and recollections. The cast of characters of this book was very believable, featuring both the best and the worst of humanity. Similarly, Liesel’s love for books (which will naturally appeal to any reader) and the power they hold for her, is nicely contrasted with the power of the Nazi propaganda and ideology over the German people. It is suggested in the novel, or rather it is directly spelled out for the readers, that words are tremendously powerful, whether for good or evil purposes. The duality of the written word, and the duality of human nature, is one of the central themes of The Book Thief.

What makes this book particularly strange is the weird narrative style of which Death seems to be so fond. He sounds almost as if English isn’t his first language (although, logically speaking, why would it be?); he’s got a great vocabulary but the structure and grammatical conventions don’t seem to come naturally to him. I suppose, not being human, he doesn’t feel bound to such restrictions if they don’t fit his purposes. But still, it can get kind of frustrating for a human reader when he puts things out of chronological order or expresses himself unnaturally. I enjoyed him more when he was actually telling Liesel’s story than when he was going on and on about himself. Yet for all the phrases of his I particularly disliked (like when he said the only thing “visible” to Liesel was her father’s voice), there was an equal number that I really did like (e.g. “You will be caked in your own body” when he comes for you.) Lots of Deathisms like that. Definitely interesting.

Quite frequently he (Death) interrupts himself in the telling of the story to interject some little observation or remark that reminds us exactly who is talking and what that means. An example:

They say that war is death’s best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: “Get it done, get it done.” So you work harder. So get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.

And:

Many jocular comments followed, as did another onslaught of “heil Hitlering.” You know, it actually makes me wonder if anyone ever lost an eye or injured a hand or wrist with all of that. You’d only need to be facing the wrong way at the wrong time or stand marginally too close to another person. Perhaps people did get injured. Personally, I can only tell you that no one died from it, or at least, not physically. There was, of course, the matter of forty million people I picked up by the time the whole thing was finished, but that’s getting all metaphoric.

And lastly:

It was a year for the ages, like 79, like 1346, to name just a few. Forget the scythe, Goddamn it, I needed a broom or a mop. And I needed a vacation.

Like I said, not quite like anything I’ve read before. I didn’t like the way Zusak would sometimes hit you over the head with his point to make sure you got it, but all in all The Book Thief was moving and thought-provoking.

Persepolis, the graphic novel comes to life

2009-02-15T21:16:00.000-08:00

Well, I decided to benefit from the long weekend by watching a whole slew of films online with my Netflix account, and let me say that I wasted a lot of time starting and even finishing some pretty mediocre films. One of them definitely stood out, though, so that’s the one I’ll focus on today. Like the recently premiered Coraline film, which I raved about last time, Persepolis is an adaptation of a book that employs a rather unique method of animation. But the similarities stop there. Based on an autobiographical graphic novel (in two parts) by Marjane Satrapi, Persepolis recounts her memoirs of growing up in Iran in the 80s and 90s. Dealing with war, suppression, depression, and loneliness, Persepolis is not always a happy movie. Yet it does have a great deal of humor and lightness to contrast with the darker elements, and it strikes me as very honest (indeed, inexorably so.)

I’m arriving a little late to the Persepolis party, however. I read the books this past fall, but only got around to seeing the film this weekend. Though I definitely liked the books, I kind of hesitated to rush out and see the film because I didn’t think Satrapi’s particular style of drawing really lent itself to animation. Her images are direct and striking, but simple and minimalist. It works wonderfully for the story she tells in the book, but I just couldn’t imagine enjoying a feature-length film in that bare style. In this respect I confess myself to have been very much mistaken. The studio(s?) that worked on this film did an amazing job bringing Satrapi’s artwork to life. I found it incredible how such a minimalist approach could achieve such emotionally poignant and powerful effects. The images are simple, but they are very striking, strongly and effectively portraying some pretty harsh realities in stark black and white. Yet at the same time the film features some very tender, gentle, human moments among Marjane and her family. The young Marjane in particular was extremely real and childlike.

For me personally, I thought the sequences focusing on Marjane’s depression and loneliness later in the film were the most powerful, even more so than the images of war and killing. The artistic combination of animation and sound was very effective, but upsetting as well. Overall, I thought Persepolis was a fantastic adaptation of the original material, beautiful and alternatively funny and harrowing. If you’re looking for something to elevate and cheer your spirits, however, you might want to look elsewhere. Click here for the trailer.

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Just for the heck of it, some of the other stuff I watched this weekend:

The Other Boleyn Girl - Beautiful to look at, but thoroughly unbelievable.
Step Up 2 : The Streets - These kids are great dancers, but sadly not great actors. The bad script didn't help much either.
Enchanted - Okay, this movie is awesome, but it was a re-watch for me.
Lost In Austen - Delightful little BBC miniseries. Humorous romantic comedy time travel.