Oblivion and other sci fi films this year

2013 promises to be an interesting year for sci-fi films; Oblivion with Tom Cruise has already opened, and Star Trek Into Darkness and After Earth are opening in May and June respectively (in Norway). I’ll be seeing the latter two when they open. I remember looking forward to the premiere of Prometheus last year around this time. I went to see Oblivion tonight and loved it, in contrast to several of the online reviews that I’ve come across that were mostly negative. The focus of the reviews always seems to end up on Tom Cruise the person, not Tom Cruise the actor. That of course is partially his own fault since he draws attention to himself with his vocal religious beliefs and viewpoints, but as an actor he delivers in this film, and that’s all that matters to me. Did he make the part of Jack Harper--drone repairman, believable, did I root for him, was I stepping onto a post-apocalyptic planet earth along with him, was I accompanying him on his daily visits to the planet to repair the drones, did I feel his confusion and determination, and was I rooting for him to be reunited with his wife Julia? I can answer yes to all these questions. And besides Tom Cruise, there are other good actors and actresses that do their part to make this a memorable film, e.g. Morgan Freeman as Beech, Olga Kurylenko as Julia, and Andrea Riseborough as Victoria. Oblivion is an epic sci-fi film, beautifully photographed with a number of impressive bleak shots of a barren planet earth in rubble, some great action sequences (especially the flying), some evil-looking machines/weapons called drones whose potential for nastiness reminded me of the spider bots in Minority Report from 2002 (another Tom Cruise film) and an ‘alien’ we never really see except as a computer screen image of a human woman named Sally. As the story unfolds, we come to understand that Jack's world is not really what he thinks it is; he is willing to follow his curiosity and to find out what is really going on, whereas his partner Julia, who monitors his daily activity as a drone repairman on the earth's surface, is not.

Oblivion is really about one man’s quest to find himself (after his dreams and memory flashbacks have prompted him to become curious about his past life) and his home in a world destroyed by war and treachery. Oblivion is a great title for this movie--what is it Jack has forgotten, and has Jack been forgotten? I was moved by the portrayal of the importance of the instinctual (primeval) desires we have as humans--to know where we come from, to have a home we call our own, and to have someone to love, or perhaps more importantly, to have someone who knows us, thus saving us from oblivion (being forgotten). Watching the scenes of Jack with his wife Julia (one scene especially where she talks about growing old together, dying and being forgotten by the world) brings us to a wistful place where the belief in the power of love is all-consuming. Real life doesn't always play out this way, but we want it to, no matter how many times it does not. The character of Julia as played by Olga Kurylenko has a non-aggressive quiet way about her that is quite endearing; her sweetness makes a nice contrast to Andrea Riseborough’s Victoria, who is calculating, direct and effective (almost robotic-like) as Jack’s former co-pilot and current team partner who is in love with him. I won’t give away the story or the ending, but I can definitely recommend Oblivion. I also enjoyed the film music; Jack Harper is a Led Zeppelin fan (Ramble On--an appropriate song for parts of this film) and a Procol Harem fan (Whiter Shade of Pale). The film title track is also quite a good song—Oblivion—performed by a group called M.8.3 with Susanna Sundfør. 

Goodbye Showtime

Showtime in Bjerregaards gate, Oslo, closed its doors tonight after more than fifteen years in the video rental business. I cannot remember when they were not there, so that tells me it’s a long time ago that they opened their doors for the first time to movie lovers like me. They’ve been running a ‘going out of business’ sale for the past week; all their DVDs, Blu-Ray videos, candy, microwave popcorn, Pringles potato chips and other snacks were on sale with huge percentage markdowns. I got a text message from them this past week telling me that they were going out of business and that they would have a sale all week; I stopped in tonight, mostly to say goodbye to the store and to deal with my mixed feelings about its closing. I asked the young woman behind the counter why they were closing; she said because they were running a deficit. They simply don’t turn enough profit. And that’s the death knell these days. Nobody keeps a store open when it’s operating in the red.

The store, which was rather large, never made much out of itself, and that was one of the reasons I liked it. It probably could have used a bit of renovation; it could have been a tad trendier. No matter. I liked it as it was, somewhat organized, somewhat messy. You could always find the new films--the top 10 films; you might have to search for some of the older films you wanted, but it was fun to do so, like going through bookshelves in a library trying to find a specific book or author, and discovering something else along the way, like some long-forgotten horror film from the early 1990s. I enjoyed talking to the people who worked there; sometimes they recommended films (like Exit through the Gift Shop—about Thierry Guetta and Banksy, the street artist), other times we briefly discussed films we had seen. Stopping in to Showtime was something I often did on Sunday evenings after I had attended mass; I would walk up the hill in Ullevålsveien, make the right onto Waldemar Thranes gate, and there it was, right next door to the pharmacy. I would often rent three films at one time and purchase some candy or other snack to enjoy during film viewing. I will miss that little routine on Sunday evenings; I almost asked the young woman tonight—what am I going to do now without you? She looked unhappy, probably about as unhappy as I did. I feel sad about their closing. I’m not always so fond of change, especially when it impacts on what I love doing —watching movies. I don’t think it will be easy to find another such store in our residential vicinity; I have a feeling that this closing is a portent of things to come—that most such stores will be closing their doors eventually. Many major cable TV companies offer online video services now, and there are any number of companies that have sprung up to provide that service if your cable TV provider doesn’t. If you have an internet connection, you can download whatever film you’d like to see without paying a fortune. If you own a tablet of any sort, you can download films for viewing onto your iPad or similar. So why would you want to physically walk into a store and rent a film?

I guess my answer would be that I don’t want to spend my entire life in an online world. I am on a computer each day from early morning until late afternoon for work purposes: emails, Google searches, reading journal articles, writing journal articles, visiting scientific sites—the list is long. Many hours are spent online each week. It’s a limited way of living in the world, even though the internet exposes you to a huge amount of information. I feel constrained at times when I am online. So I like actually walking into a video rental store and perusing the shelves, trying to find a film I’d like to watch. I suppose people will point out to me that you are really doing the same thing when you are on Netflix or other online video services; you’re checking out their ‘film library shelves’. I guess that’s true, but I will still miss being able to physically pick up a film DVD and turn it over to read about the film on the back cover, deciding to rent it, buying some candy on my way out, and looking forward to watching the films when I get home. Goodbye Showtime, and thanks for many enjoyable years.

(For those of you who read Norwegian, here is a link with three reviews of this store. It's nice to see that others also had pleasant experiences dealing with Showtime: http://www.yelp.no/biz/showtime-oslo)

Leaving unkindness and tyranny

I was up late last night, so I sat and watched two old films on TCM—BUtterfield 8 from 1960 with Elizabeth Taylor as a part-time model/part-time call girl (I’ve seen it several times before but never tire of it), and The Barretts of Wimpole Street from 1957 with Jennifer Jones as the poetess Elizabeth Barrett who married Robert Browning. Whenever I watch the old films, I’m always struck by the depth of the character portrayals, by the richness of the stories they tell, and by the feelings I’m left with after they’re over. The old films make you think: about your life, others’ lives, different situations, different times, how you might have handled those situations, and so on. In Butterfield 8, Elizabeth Taylor’s character Gloria is looking to change her life and to find real love, and thinks she has found the way to do so in her relationship with Weston Liggett, played by Laurence Harvey, who is married, albeit unhappily. This being the film world of the late 1950s/early 1960s, we know that their story cannot end like that of Pretty Girl. Weston is a borderline alcoholic with an explosive temper also looking to change his life. While they enjoy some happy moments together, Gloria makes a mistake early on in their relationship that ultimately dooms it, and Weston’s behavior toward her in a restaurant in reaction to this ‘mistake’ is appalling—he is verbally and physically abusive to her in a harrowing scene. He treats her like dirt in a public setting, calls her a whore to her face in a loud voice, and provokes the wrath of other men around them, who step in to their argument to try to protect Gloria. Weston ends up getting punched in the face for his abusive behavior and quickly leaves the restaurant. His subsequent attempts to reconcile with Gloria, to apologize for his crude and caveman behavior, fail; she flees from him in her car, and he follows her. Their story ends tragically, with her dying in a car crash. It struck me that her attempts to change her life, to leave her past behind, to become a new woman, to find self-respect, were punished in this film. She was not allowed to find happiness, with or without a man. But what struck me most of all was the lack of kindness and understanding toward those attempts. With the exception of one person, her childhood friend Steve, played by Eddie Fisher, there were few others who understood her need to change her life; everyone else seemed bound by the conventions of society at that time—marriage, duty, respectability. Why she had chosen the life she chose comes to light when she reveals her secret (early sexual abuse by a father figure) to Steve. But by then we know it is too late. It seems rather horrible to me that she should pay for others’ sins as dearly as she paid in this film, but that says more about the time when the film was made. But it is the lack of kindness toward her that sticks with you after the film is over.

In The Barretts of Wimpole Street, we meet Elizabeth Barrett, her sisters and brothers, and their tyrant of a father, a widower (played by John Gielgud) who refuses to let any of them marry and who vows to disinherit them if they do. Suffice it to say that the household atmosphere is stifling and life-killing, with the father determining how they live, what they eat, who they see, and so forth. It is implied that the father treated his wife in much the same way as he treats his children; she may have loved him early on but came to fear him as his children do. He has absolute control over them, is unkind in word and action, and prefers having his children fear rather than love him. Elizabeth is an invalid with what seems to be some sort of heart problem; in truth, her illness is probably a reaction to her father’s psychological abuse. She is bedridden and her brothers and sisters try to keep her in good spirits; it is her dog Flush who seems to do the best job at giving her some sort of happiness, and he plays a major role in the film. The film is really the story of how Elizabeth comes to life and gets well after meeting the poet Robert Browning, who has fallen in love with her through her poetry and who wants to marry her. It doesn’t take Robert long to figure out that her father is a major cause of her illness and unhappiness. They carry on their romance in secret, as does Elizabeth’s sister Henrietta with her Captain. But we know that Elizabeth’s father will eventually find out, and he does. So the question then becomes, how will they escape their tyrant of a father? He is truly a scary man; he dominates any room he walks into with his dourness and life-killing behavior. You could say about him that a flower would wither in his presence. In a rather sickening scene toward the end of the film, he tells Elizabeth that he is moving the family out of London to the country to get away from the bad influences (visits from friends and suitors), and that he hopes that she will come to love him and not fear him. He then makes the mistake of professing his feelings for her, which border on incestuous. Elizabeth understands that he will ultimately destroy her, and that she needs to get away from him immediately, which she manages with the help of their housemaid Wilson. The scene where she, with her dog Flush in her arms (she could not leave him behind) and Wilson are sneaking out of the house while the rest of the family is sitting down to dinner, is actually terrifying. I kept waiting for her father to appear, to crush whatever little courage and spirit was left in her. Had he appeared while she was escaping, he would have won. And had she left Flush behind, it would have been awful; her father, when he discovers that Elizabeth and Wilson have gone, orders the dog destroyed. But of course Elizabeth knew that this would be his fate, and since she loves her dog, he goes with her. I have never rooted for a character to escape her tyrant the way I did with Elizabeth; when they paused on the staircase, just a few feet from the front door, I found myself saying ‘go, leave, get out now’. It would have been awful had she been stopped. But she does escape, does marry Robert, and Flush stays with them. It's a true story with a happy ending, in other words, and thank God for that.

Both films deal with women who want to change their lives and leave unhappiness and abuse behind. Both women decide to leave their abusers—men who mete out nothing but unkindness, misery and unhappiness, men who confuse love and control, men who dominate and bark out orders, men who can say and do things that they would never tolerate from the women in their lives. It made me appreciate the courage and the energy these women showed in the face of abuse; they knew they had to leave their situations and they did. In one case it ended tragically, in the other, it ended happily. So it goes in life; it’s not always easy to leave an unhappy situation. But the courage involved in trying to leave is what stays with you long after the films are over. 

Watching Skyfall

I finally got around to watching the latest James Bond film, Skyfall, with Daniel Craig as Bond. I’ve wanted to see it since it opened at the end of October, but unfortunately there were other more pressing issues that got in the way until now. Skyfall is the best of the Bond films, in my opinion. It is a near-perfect film and a near-perfect film experience, for so many reasons. I’ve watched it twice already, back-to-back viewings, and the second time I found myself trying to find flaws in the plot, in the characters, in the acting, in the cinematography, in the villain, in the Bond women, in Bond himself. I came up short every time. It is the first Bond film where I could follow the plot without question, the first Bond film where I could understand the villain’s motives, the first Bond film that depicts the complexity and the shadowiness of the espionage world. I found myself thinking of John Le Carre’s book (one of my favorites) A Perfect Spy; mostly because both delve into the realm of the psyches of their spies. In A Perfect Spy, we learn why the protagonist Magnus Pym (who works for the British MI6 as a spy and has lived a lie for his entire life) was the perfect spy, and about the role his con-man father played in his life, in his moral development (or lack thereof), and in his ultimate downfall. In Skyfall, we come to understand that the death of Bond’s parents at an early age made him a good recruit for the world of espionage. As M (played by Judi Dench) says to him, ‘orphans make the best recruits’. One set of authority figures are replaced by another set in the form of MI6. The latter are more ruthless, demanding, amoral and untrustworthy than the first. Bond is really a pawn on a chess board; he is moved around at will and accepts his role and his fate (‘hire me or fire me’). Answering the call of duty plays an all-consuming role in how he sees the world. It’s all he knows. He belongs to the old world of loyalty to one’s country, less to oneself. One’s body is merely a tool in the service of one’s country. In that sense, it is completely understandable that the women he meets are tools as well. That message was also quite clear in A Perfect Spy, and made having a normal functioning relationship/marriage with a woman impossible. And yet, Bond did marry once for love, in an earlier film, but his wife was shot and killed. He remains alone, a loner, needing no one, perhaps because the death of his wife affected him permanently. That makes it possible for him to be an instrument in the service of his country. It also explains why he needs to take out the villain in this film, whose sole aim is to kill M because she has betrayed him; M provides Bond with his only stable relationship, albeit a superficial one. M and Bond know what they need to know about each other; the trick is to not become sentimental with and about each other. Deep down however, they are fond of one another, as this film touchingly depicts.

‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks’. Sometimes the old ways are the best ways—relying on one’s instinct, intelligence and skill, not on a computer or other technology to solve the problem at hand. Bond’s age and physical limitations in relation to his ability to change and grow and to meet future challenges are in question here. That is one message in the movie. But when Eve says to him ‘old dog, new tricks’, we know that the old dog can learn new tricks, can resurrect himself (his hobby—resurrection), can be fit for fight, and can seduce the ‘new’ women (Eve included). But I also thought about how filmmaking and production have changed during the past half century since the first Bond film. It’s an industry that is constantly reinventing itself, thanks to new camera and digital techniques and effects—new tricks in an old trade. The effects are stylish, eye-catching, and atmospheric. The film works on so many levels; it is seamlessly put together. It is a film you just slip into, almost as though you found an opening in one dimension that allows you to step into that world. It glides along on a noiseless track, and you are pulled onto the monorail that takes you into the world of James Bond. The use of computer-generated imagery (CGI) certainly helps to create that atmosphere, that world, almost one of virtual reality; there must have been a lot of CGI in this film. The intricate and nuanced use of colors and digital effects also creates the different moods that hold one captive—eerie, bold, violent, beautiful, and suggestive. I don’t know what the use of colors and digital effects does to the brain (are they subliminal effects in some way?), but I am sure that a psychologist or psychiatrist could tell me. I would guess that there is a fair amount of research being done in the field of marketing to find just the ‘right’ digital effects that will make us want more, enjoy more, buy more. I find these types of digital effects to be almost addictive; I find myself mesmerized by the use of streaming and gliding colors and shapes, the dim blue lighting, the use of light and shadows, glass buildings, color tones, and so forth. The shots of the digital ads, e.g., the writhing jellyfish, climbing the Shanghai skyscrapers in the darkness are beautiful and confusing; they create a chaos of shapes and colors, so that it’s almost impossible to distinguish a real figure from a shadow. But it all comes together so seamlessly, falling into place in the brain. The choreography of the fight scene on the edge of the room high in the clouds; the figures are dark and move like dancers—a beautiful scene. There are so many of these types of scenes—beautiful, haunting (the long-distance view of the Skyfall estate house), the landscapes of Scotland—wild and stark, almost like a painting, interspersed with the views of Shanghai, Istanbul and London. Skyfall is a typical Bond film in that respect—multiple locations, lunatic villains, over-the-top stunts, but in terms of its visual effects, it’s so much more. 

Some really good child actors

I’ve been on a quest to watch some of the movies I’ve missed out on during the past five years or so, and the deep dark winter months are the perfect times to catch up on my film watching. Sometimes the reason I haven’t seen the films is because I haven’t been able to get to the theater to watch them when they’ve opened; other times I’m quite sure they haven’t opened in Norway at all, even though IMDB states that they opened in Norway on this or that date. They may have gone directly to DVD, if that can qualify as an opening in Norway. In any case, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by three films that have caught my attention, made me cry, made me think, and ultimately made me happy that I saw them. They are Genova (2008), Creation (2009), and Hugo (2011). What they all have in common are wonderfully good child actors; especially in Genova, but closely followed by Creation and Hugo.

If you haven’t seen any of the films, I can briefly summarize them here. Genova is the story of a Joe, a husband and father whose wife has died in a car accident that may have been caused by their youngest daughter who was sitting in the backseat of the car together with her older sister, playing a game. The husband decides to move his daughters and himself to Genova, Italy for a short while; the film relates their daily lives in a new and strange city, and the adventures each of them embark upon. Colin Firth as Joe, and Willa Holland as Kelly (the eldest sister) are very good, but it is the youngest daughter Mary, played by Perla Haney-Jardine, who shone in this film. Her acting is superb; there were times when you just wanted to reach out and hug her, she was so good, especially when her awkwardness and loneliness shone through. In real life, she is about sixteen years old now; when the film came out, she was about eleven. She had a remarkable self-possession at that young age that was riveting. Composed, observant, guarded, smart as a whip, but full of feelings and thoughts that she did not really understand or know how to express at that age; the scene where she talks to a female friend of her father’s and tells her that she feels guilty and responsible for her mother’s death is heartbreaking. Her wonderful self-possession reminded me of my niece when she was that age; she had (and still has) many of those same qualities.

Creation is the story of Charles Darwin and his family, at the time before he wrote the book that would make him famous, The Origin of Species. The film details his struggle to acknowledge the scientific truths about evolution that he has discovered which put him into conflict with his Christian faith and with his wife, who is very religious. Charles Darwin and his wife Emma are played by Paul Bettany and Jennifer Connelly, who are married in real-life; they are terrific together. Darwin’s life was complicated by poor health and much unhappiness; he lost his eldest and beloved daughter Annie, played so convincingly and movingly in the film by Martha West, most probably to tuberculosis. Their relationship was close on many levels, and she was clearly his favorite child, likely because she was so interested in his work and in the natural world. Had she lived, she could have become a scientist like her father. The film depicts the conflicts in the Darwin marriage as well as the events surrounding the death of Annie, and is based on the book Annie’s Box: Charles Darwin, His Daughter, and Human Evolution, by Randal Keynes. So much of the film revolves around Annie and the impact her death had on Charles Darwin; Martha West did a wonderful job as Annie. It was impossible not to be moved to tears by her performance. The same can be said for Paul Bettany and Jennifer Connelly.

Hugo is the third film where a child figures prominently in the story; it reminded me a bit of the film Oliver! (1968). The young boy Hugo Cabret, played by Asa Butterfield, has a wistful look to him, much like Mark Lester’s Oliver in that earlier film, and his performance is very nuanced and very good. Both of them play young boys who are orphans; Oliver lives in an orphanage, whereas Hugo lives in the walls of a Paris train station where he fixes and maintains the station’s clocks, a job he learned from his drunken uncle who disappeared months ago and who is discovered drowned in the Seine river. The film is the story of how Hugo slowly befriends an older man who knows that Hugo steals from him, a shopkeeper by the name of Georges Méliès', played by Ben Kingsley. Georges works in the train station selling and repairing trinkets and small toys; Hugo steals parts from him sporadically in order to repair the ‘automaton’ he and his father were working on before his father’s tragic death. But Georges was once a promising filmmaker, before WWI destroyed those plans and ambitions, turning him into an unhappy and bitter man. As fate would have it, this automaton was actually designed by Georges Méliès' when he was a young man. It was a pleasant surprise to find out that the film is based on the real-life story of Georges Méliès', a French filmmaker who was way ahead of his time in terms of special effects and surreal sets and props, and a magician as well. He is known especially for two films, A Trip to the Moon (1902) and The Impossible Voyage (1904).

It is not possible to predict what the future will hold for Perla Haney-Jardine, Martha West, or Asa Butterfield in terms of their future film successes, as child actors often have a hard time repeating the successes of their youth. But they certainly deserve many more chances to express their tremendous talents and to shine as brightly as they did respectively in each of these films.

Fear of the dark and of the creatures that live there

An interesting discussion this past weekend with some friends who were visiting—we ended up talking about the horror movies that have scared us the most. All of us are adults, and all of us ended up being scared, as in many sleepless nights after having viewed them. Scared as in lights on in all rooms of the house when alone, creepy images that seem to be imprinted on our brains forever—that sort of thing. The Grudge, The Ring, and I Am Legend were the films mentioned by several people, and it occurred to me that what these films all have in common are characters that are hideously deformed or grotesque in some way. In The Grudge and The Ring, female characters have been transformed into evil creatures with long dark hair that covers their faces, but when those faces are exposed, they are terrifying. They also have a tendency to glide along hallway walls or to crawl down stairs, and they have a nasty habit of appearing where you would least want them to turn up—in your bed or in an elevator. The shock value alone of having seen them is enough to make you want to sleep with all the lights on for many nights afterwards. The use of children in horror films can also be quite shocking—children who become evil, possessed children, little monsters--as in Children of the Damned; this offends our sense of normalcy. It’s not supposed to be that way. What scares us in I Am Legend are the humanoid monsters with superhuman strength (vampires in the novella by Richard Matheson on which the film was based) who roam the streets of the city by the thousands at night looking for prey. They can scale the outer walls of buildings and cross a city park in record speed, screeching and growling. But they cannot tolerate the light of day, which gives the protagonist (in this film Will Smith) the daylight hours to do the things he must do—find food and fuel for his car, and try to find other survivors like himself. But he must be home by sunset in order to lock down his house so that these creatures cannot find him or get inside his house. But of course you know they will at some point, and that he will make a mistake that will allow them to do so, and that is what is scary—when will it happen? It’s only a question of time. We can empathize with the protagonist; what would we do if we were in his shoes? How would we survive, and would we? Or would we go mad?

When I was a child, I thought that if I concentrated hard enough, I could create the imaginary creatures that scared me. Just that thought alone, that I might have the power to create those creatures, scared me. Where did those scary creatures come from? Perhaps from the fairytales that were read to us as children—among them Grimm’s fairytales about witches (Hansel and Gretel; Snow White), wolves (Little Red Riding Hood) and other odd and sometimes evil creatures. Perhaps they also came from our religious education that taught us about God and the Devil. They did not come from TV or films, as my parents did not purchase a TV until I was almost thirteen years old; I did not start going to movies until I was in my early teens. When I was a teenager, I was sure that by the time I reached adulthood, I would no longer be scared when watching horror or supernatural films. That has not proven to be the case. I need only think of The Shining, I Am Legend, The Grudge, The Exorcist, REC, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark (the original TV movie), Burnt Offerings, and a number of other films in this genre, to remind myself of the effect they had on me upon first viewing. I think that fears of the dark or of monsters in the closet or under the bed are primal fears; we do not see well in the dark, whereas our predators (mostly carnivorous animals in early times) did. They had the advantage. So we built shelters to keep them out and used fire to allow us to see but also to keep predators away. We are thankful for the protection of our modern homes—with doors and windows we can lock against anything or anybody that might want to hurt us. We turn on our alarm systems to be warned if an intruder breaks in. But what happens if the intruder is not human? If we keep the lights on, will that keep the non-human intruders away? What scares us is the possibility that our ‘protections’ are merely illusions—can locked doors and windows keep out things that really want to get in? Our locks, alarm systems and indoor lighting cannot protect us against supernatural threats. Films like Paranormal Activity, The Entity, and The Exorcist scare us exactly for this reason. And what happens if people become possessed by evil spirits, as happened in The Shining or in so many other supernatural horror films? How do you fight that type of evil? In the final analysis, perhaps horror films in general make us thankful for the good old routine daily life that we live; we do not have to fight off predators on a daily basis, nor do we have to hunt our own food. Most of us living in industrialized societies do not have to risk our lives each day in order to survive. 

Why I love the story of Jane Eyre

One of the best things I did last weekend was to watch the most recent film adaptation of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre from 2011 (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1229822/) with Mia Wasikowska as Jane Eyre and Michael Fassbender as Mr. Rochester. I was completely emotional by the end of the film; I know how the story ends so there were no plot surprises, but the quality and intensity of the acting by Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender were just that overwhelming. Michael Fassbender was a wonderful surprise as Mr. Rochester; I have seen him in Prometheus and Fish Tank previously, and he is Mr. Rochester, David and Conor respectively, all completely different people, a testament to his acting abilities. He managed to impart a real humanity to Mr. Rochester, a humanity that I have not felt as strongly in other Mr. Rochesters. You feel sorry for him and for his predicament, even though you understand that he will suffer for his willfully deceiving Jane about his being married to a mad woman whom he is unable to divorce. By the time he tells her the truth, on her wedding day; you are hoping that Jane will forgive him because you know he is truly sorry for lying to her. But being the moral, proud and wise young woman that she is, she tells him that she will not live with him without being married and she leaves him and Thornfield Hall behind. As fate would have it, a tragedy occurs that ensures that she will finally be able to marry Mr. Rochester, but it was not the tragedy that made her return to Thornfield. It was her recognition of her own humanity and need for love; she gained the insight (inner sight) she needed to understand that she had found real love with Mr. Rochester and that she could not live in a passionless marriage with St John Rivers. She had to marry a man she loved. Her return to Mr. Rochester was actually an acknowledgment that she would live with him regardless of his marital situation as he had initially proposed once she found out he was already married. As it turns out; during her separation from Mr. Rochester, his wife burned down Thornfield Hall and committed suicide thereafter, but Jane is unaware of this when she returns to Thornfield. Mr. Rochester has lost his eyesight due to the fire and must depend upon those around him for help. When Jane returns to him, you understand that he has gained the ability to be grateful, and is no longer the proud and desperate man he once was. No matter how many times I’ve read the book or seen the different Jane Eyre films and TV series through the years, I am always moved by this story—it’s impossible not to love it. 

Some thoughts about the film The Burrowers

Apropos Kristen Stewart—her recent film, Snow White and the Huntsman, was not a movie I liked very much and I really don’t understand the hype surrounding it. This film got a wide release and generated big box office; I cannot imagine why. I think all involved did passable jobs, but no more than that. The film is forgettable once you’re out of the theater. Charlize Theron overacted/over-reacted and Kristen Stewart under acted/under-reacted (few to no facial expressions in key scenes and so little to say; it was sometimes painful to watch, especially the final scene. It almost seemed as if she was struggling to get some words out, but they never came). Chris Hemsworth did the best acting job if you ask me, within the limited emotional range of the film. The entire film had a wooden feel to it. One can hope that there will be no sequel. I cannot see how it would be feasible, realistic or even necessary. What more is there to say about this story that hasn’t already been said?

The other night I watched a film on Showtime called The Burrowers, from 2008. This film was apparently never released to the movie public and instead went straight to DVD. I don’t understand the rationale for that move, since I thought it was a much better film than big budget Snow White and the Huntsman. Who makes these decisions? The Burrowers was actually quite a creepy little horror film, albeit a very unusual horror film since it was set in the American Wild West during 1879. It is a bit slow-moving, but the characters are interesting and well-developed, as is the storyline. A family living out on the lonely prairie disappears without a trace, and a posse is formed to try and find them/rescue them from the Native American Indians whom they are sure have abducted them. How wrong they are. Their discovery that entities other than Indians are stalking them, waiting for them in the dark, is as I said, creepy, because they, like us, find it hard to believe that such monsters could exist out on the plains. But they do. And they are not just any monsters, they are burrowers, creatures that live underground and who have a penchant for tracking and eating humans. But their mode for doing this is quite unique, and I won’t spoil the film by giving this information away, except to say that it is exploited in an effort to kill them off. The creatures, which are CGI creations, are scary enough such that the film works. The Burrowers is a clever film, and while some people on IMDB have complained about the film’s ending, I found it to be realistic, though unsatisfying. All the loose ends are not tied up. The monsters are not completely wiped out. What the film manages to convey very well is a sense of dread; imagine you are out on the prairie at night, sitting around a fire at your campsite. Your vision is limited, the dark envelopes you, you hear noises. Even if there were no monsters, the reality of spending the night out under the open skies, exposed and vulnerable, could be anxiety-inducing for many people. I am one of them. The film never plays for laughs; it takes itself seriously, and that is one of its strengths. Additionally, you get a real feel for what life must have been like in 1879—long periods of isolation, no internet, no phones, little communication, mostly rumors and innuendoes, and the constant threat of attack. I found myself thinking of the X-Files, always a good sign in my book, because some of the X-Files episodes were quite scary. The Burrowers brought to mind the X-Files episode Detour from 1997. Both the film and the TV episode are well-worth watching. 

Summer movie viewing

Some really good (old and newer) movies that I have seen recently, in no particular order:

·         Mon Oncle (1958) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0050706/

·         Elementarteilchen (The Elementary Particles--2006) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0430051/

·         Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335119/

·         Midnight Cowboy (1969) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064665/

·         The Skeleton Key (2005) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0397101/

·         Two Weeks in Another Town (1962) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0056625/

·         Bloedbroeders (2008) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1071201/

·         Harrys döttrar (2005) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0456972/

·         Puss in Boots (2011) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0448694/

·         Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1515091/

·         Prometheus (2012) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1446714/

Ridley Scott's Prometheus

Last night I did something I haven’t done many times before in my life. I attended the pre-premiere of a movie whose release I have been eagerly anticipating—Ridley Scott’s Prometheus. The film’s official release date in Norway is today, June 1^st. But the Colosseum movie theater in Oslo showed the film last night (9pm showing only) to a packed house, which in and of itself was an enjoyable experience. The film was introduced by a young man who apparently works for an American company in Norway involved in the film’s promotion. At one point he asked for a show of hands for how many women were in the audience. I guess because men outnumber women when it comes to liking sci-fi films? Anyway, there were a lot of women in the audience. Never occurred to me before that sci-fi might be a genre dominated by men, since I personally know more women than men who enjoy sci-fi books and films. But never mind—I want to tell you about the film.

The story is somewhat intricate and uneven; the film opens with fantastic footage of what is supposed to be prehistoric earth; the 3D effects give the viewer the experience of actually moving over the planet in a low-flying spaceship. An alien human-like figure stands on the precipice of a huge waterfall, and drinks some kind of strange liquid in a pod. He is alone. Above him a spaceship hovers, apparently the ship that brought him there. After drinking the liquid, his body reacts violently, transforming into some strange-looking creature that falls off the cliff into the water; as he does, his body explodes, releasing the DNA that will be the precursor DNA to our own. Cut to 2089, where a group of scientists (among them Elizabeth Shaw played by Noomi Rapace, and Charlie Holloway played by Logan Marshall-Green) interested in the origins of humanity discover cave paintings on the Isle of Skye in Scotland that resemble cave paintings from other archaeological digs around the world. All of them ‘point’ to the stars; the patterns seem to be an invitation to visit that distant world, which is exactly what these scientists are dreaming about—finding the origins of man. Four years later, they are traveling in space on their way to this world, in a spaceship called Prometheus. They land on this new world, and all hell breaks loose, literally. That’s the point of these films, and also the fun of watching them. You know something bad or evil is lurking in the wings, just waiting for its chance to break free. I will definitely not spoil the film for you by describing what happens; it is well-worth seeing and you will be impressed beyond belief at the special effects and the 3D experience. I felt like I had traveled to that world after being in the theater for two hours. I found myself wishing the movie was longer, the effects were that good. The images of that deserted, barren, dark world will haunt you for hours afterwards. The fact that the plot has a few loopholes, or that there are some illogical occurrences, was not a problem for me, although I know it is for some others who have voiced their criticisms on IMDB. I am more interested in the atmosphere that these kinds of films can create, and Prometheus delivers.  It manages to create the world it set out to create, just like in the Alien films.

Mythological and biblical references are prevalent in this film. What can the story of Prometheus in Greek mythology tell us about the film’s plot? Prometheus was a Titan god who was given the task of creating mankind out of clay. Prometheus ended up in conflict with Zeus, who had given him this task, because he liked his mortal creations very much and wanted the best for them, a feeling that Zeus did not share. Zeus became angry at Prometheus for a number of things—among them that Prometheus had tricked the gods into allowing man to keep the meat from sacrificial offerings to the gods, whereas the gods got only the animal bones. As punishment, Zeus withheld fire from man; Prometheus decided to steal the fire back and deliver it to mankind, which he did. Zeus punished him by chaining him to a stake on a mountaintop where an eagle fed upon his liver, which grew back each day since Prometheus was immortal. In the film, the very idea that the scientists could obtain the knowledge of their origin can be seen as a ‘transgression’ against their divine ‘creators’ (Engineers). At the risk of over-interpreting the meaning of the film, I couldn’t help but think of the story of Adam and Eve. Like Adam and Eve in the garden of Paradise, who ate of the fruit from the tree of knowledge that ended in their being banished from the garden, the scientists are ‘punished’ for trying to seek and attain the knowledge that will place them on the creative level of their creators. The ‘gods’ are jealous; they and they alone wish to hold the keys to (knowledge about) the creation of mankind. The gods of Greek mythology were not all perfect gods—they could be angry, jealous, and vindictive—just like their creations; there were any number of wars in the heavens. The universe was thus both orderly (good) and chaotic (evil). Christian mythology describes how Lucifer the archangel, whose name means ‘light bearer’ (interestingly enough when talking about Prometheus and his bearing of fire to mankind) defied the will of the divine Creator and was banished to hell along with his followers. Lucifer and his followers are the bad angels whose sin was pride and thinking they were better than God. It is clear in the film that the distant world that harbors so much chaos and evil for the space travelers was a repository of ‘life’ guarded by alien humanoids that were tall, strong and violent. Are these the bad angels? One gets the feeling that this dark world was more like hell, where transgressors against the gods, as Prometheus was, would have been banished.

So where then is the world of our creators? Where do they live, since they do not live on this dark barren world? This is the question Elizabeth Shaw has at the end of the film. How come our creators were so unsatisfied with their creations that they relegated them to a hellish world? What was the transgression committed by the original creations? Did they attempt to trick their creators or to steal something of value to them, like Prometheus did with Zeus? Did they try to become the creators? Why did the creators choose earth as the place for their creations? Why did the alien humanoid in the first scene die such a violent death in order that his DNA would be spread in the waters of earth, as a precursor to our own? When did this happen, before or after the settling of the world on which the spaceship Prometheus lands? Why did things go so horribly wrong on this world? Why do the Engineers on this world want to destroy earth as is the plan when the giant spaceship attempts to take off toward the end of the film, and what stopped them up until this point? These remain unanswered questions at the end of the film. Perhaps they will be answered in a sequel, or perhaps not. In any case, the film opens for different questions and interpretations. And in the final analysis, it is perhaps not so surprising that as we (viewers and movie directors alike) age and approach our mortal ends, that the questions of where we come from, how did we get here, and where we (might) end up after death, preoccupy us. We would prefer that our lives had meaning and that it is not the emptiness of the abyss that awaits us. We would prefer heaven to the barren, deserted and dark world that the Prometheus found. 

Warm weather musings and updates

Summer has finally come to Norway, at least to Oslo and the surrounding area. And it’s not even officially summertime yet according to the calendar. So guess who’s happy? It’s my favorite season, summertime. It brings with it no work or very little work, vacation, sun, warmth, travel, long lazy days, boat trips, bicycle rides, a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables on a daily basis, salads, enjoying a few hours with friends or my husband at outdoor cafes—the list is endless. My plants are happy; it’s just to take one good look at them. Their leaves seem greener and they just seem to be healthier. Just like us, how we respond to the sun. Everyone seems happier, more patient, less aggressive and more open. I wish it could be like that all year long. Summer always seems to be the time when new beginnings blossom, for me at least. More than spring, although you might say that spring is where those new beginnings take root.

I haven’t written too much about work lately, I guess because I’ve moved into a new phase now at my workplace—the ‘wait and see’ phase. For the time being, my work life seems to have evened out a bit. All that means is that I have found a new research group to settle into and so far, so good. It feels good to be a part of something to which I can contribute. I just hope this new group is allowed to grow and flourish. One year ago, the other ‘new group’ that I was a part of was just getting onto its feet and learning to get to know one another. And then the end of 2011 came and that group went ‘poof’ and was no more. Management decided to move the pawns around on the chess board once again, and came up with new suggestions for new constellations. And of course they know best. The uplifting part of these political scenarios is that they happen now in public for all to see, so that it is no longer possible for my friends and colleagues to say that they don’t believe me when I tell them how it is. They’re now experiencing some of this personally and they don’t like the treatment either. I’m a couple of years ahead of them, having graduated from anger to depression to cynicism to healthy skepticism. ‘Trust no one’ as the main characters on the X-Files used to say. In a work-related context, I’d say that’s where I am now. Still like the research work I do, though. I just hate work politics, but they’re part and parcel of the whole arena, in fact of most business arenas.

Mostly, I’ve floated myself back into the world that I love the most after science—the world of the creative arts--literature, movies, art, and music. That world always fills me with hope and the feeling that I am being renewed—new beginnings within myself. I’m reading again, listening to new music, appreciating art where I find it, and going to the movies as often as I manage. Or renting DVDs to catch up on the movies I’ve missed. I just read Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and enjoyed it; he describes evil behavior in mankind in a way that can chill you to the bone, and he does it in a way that seems so ordinary. I’m currently reading Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout and enjoying it immensely; Olive is a prickly middle-aged woman but her life is so worth reading about—all the different people who cross her path and who interact with her. I recommend it. I got tickets to see Deadmau5 at Oslo Spektrum concert stadium next week as I wrote about in my previous post; in a few weeks I will see Sting at the Norwegian Wood music festival in Frogner Park. I recently went to see the movies Dark Shadows, Hunger Games and Martha Marcy May Marlene, and I got tickets today for the opening night of Prometheus (can’t wait!) next week. I’ve rented The Rum Diary with Johnny Depp, and watched Source Code and Another Earth (another film I wrote about recently). All of them were good films, and all of them inspire me in a way that no other art form can. I’m hooked on movies—always have been and always will be. Some of you may ask where I find the time to do these things—yes, I know and feel the time constraints all the time. The answer is that I am making the time now. Again I ask, if not now, when? Academia can eat up every spare minute of life including evenings and weekends, and I don’t want that. So yes, I am choosing the creative world of the arts any chance I get, as I’ve written about here in this blog many times before. It helps to balance out the administrative, political and other demands of academia. The actual research and experiments though are the creative part of science, when we are actually permitted to pursue them. There is a lot of creativity in the world of science research; the trick is to not get buried by all of the other demands that eat up that creative time.

The indie film 'Another Earth'

I have self-published three books that I am sure would never have seen the light of day had I sent them via an agent to a large publishing house, so that makes me an indie author. Not that I am against traditional forms of publishing, mind you. I just believe in giving underdogs a small chance. I may try the traditional publishing route with my next book, but it’s not finished yet and I may still change my mind. As I’ve written about before, Amazon/CreateSpace has given indie authors like me a chance to get our books out there. I’ll never be a millionaire from the royalties I get from the minor book sales I enjoy, but I’ve learned valuable things about the publishing and marketing worlds, and that by itself is worth gold, because I don’t have to pay a publicist to market my book. This is the true beauty of our modern society—dreams can become realities in the digital age.

But this time around this post is not about my experiences as an indie writer, but rather about an indie movie I rented recently. A nice little gem of a film released in 2011 called Another Earth; it had its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival on 24 January 2011 where it won an award. You can find it listed on IMDB at http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1549572/. It was directed by Mike Cahill, and written by him and Brit Marling, who also has the lead female role of Rhoda in the film. Another Earth is labeled as both a drama and a sci-fi film, and I guess you could say that it is a sci-fi film of sorts. But the science fiction aspect is not paramount; it is the backdrop for the personal drama that plays out in the film. Despite the presence of the ‘other earth’ in the sky—a hauntingly beautiful orb that looks just like our planet—the film is really about what happens to individual lives in the aftermath of personal tragedy. It is about making amends, paying back, trying to forgive, and trying to move on with one’s life. The two main characters, Rhoda and John (played by William Mapother), have a hard time moving on with their lives. Their paths become entwined through a mistake really, or rather a failure on the part of Rhoda, a college-age young woman, to inform John, a middle-aged professor for whom she cleans house, about her role in the car accident that took his wife and child from him. Her inability to tell him about her role in his personal tragedy leads inevitably to another type of failure—the end of a love affair, but which inspires her to try to set things right for him. The film is well-worth seeing. The sci-fi elements of the film serve to keep us wondering about the possibility of second chances on the other earth, and this involves the aspect of whether or not there is synchrony between both planets. Will the other ‘me’ on the other earth have lived the same life as I did on this earth, and so forth. I won’t give away the details or ending of the film, but will say that despite a rather abrupt ending, you won’t be disappointed. The film will make you think, and if you read the message boards about this film on IMDB, you will find that there are others who are puzzling about the very same things. The mark of a good film—it gets people talking, discussing and trading ideas and possible scenarios.

I have no idea how much it costs to make films, nor do I have any idea of what it cost to make Another Earth. According to IMDB, it grossed $77,740 in the USA on its opening weekend (24 July 2011); it opened on four screens. As of 2 October 2011, it had grossed $1,316,074 in the USA. I rented the DVD here in Oslo just last weekend; I cannot remember that it opened in the theaters here, although according to IMDB it opened here in Norway in November 2011. No matter. I’ve seen it on DVD. It will be interesting to see what returns will come from the foreign market, especially from DVD rentals/sales. The American earnings are not a lot of money really, compared to what some of the commercial blockbusters rake in. But I’m betting that Mike Cahill and Brit Marling are not complaining. I doubt it cost them that much money to make the film. So now they may even have some funds to write and direct a new film. It will be interesting to follow them further; I hope they make more films like Another Earth. 

Dark Shadows and 'marginal weirdness'

I have been eagerly awaiting the opening of Tim Burton’s new film, Dark Shadows; it opened here in Norway this past Friday, May 11th. So I was online a few days before and ordered a ticket so that I was assured a seat in the theater. I needn’t have worried; the theater was not full, and I doubt it will be for any of the showings. Not because the film isn’t worth seeing, it is, but mostly because it will have limited appeal given its subject matter in a cinema world where vampires have been done to death. I need think only of the Twilight films and of True Blood, both of which I don’t really watch, although I have seen one of the Twilight films and a few of the True Blood episodes. They don’t appeal to me as much as the original Dark Shadows TV series or the two Dark Shadows films from the 1970s (House of Dark Shadows and Night of Dark Shadows) based on the TV series. The original Dark Shadows series and even the subsequent films managed something none of the other vampire films or series has managed as well, with the possible exception of Francis Ford Coppola’s incredible wonderful film version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. And that is to take themselves seriously, despite that the subject matter was nothing more than pure fantasy. They wove the supernatural fantasies of vampires, ghosts, witches, werewolves and other creatures into a soap opera storyline filled with romance, love, sex, deceit, treachery, normal life, family life and honor, wealthy families, and tragic lives. They managed to be serious and campy simultaneously. The Dark Shadows TV series was talky, like a good soap opera should be. It kept its viewers hanging literally onto each word a character uttered. Those words were important to the storyline, driving it forward, and since the series ran from Monday to Friday, viewers were guaranteed a treasure trove of conversations, arguments, conflicts, ultimatums, discussions and more conversations. In between all of these, something supernatural could occur—there might be vampire or witch activity, or ghosts that wandered about the Collinwood mansion or estate, which was often shrouded in darkness or fog. It seemed to be always evening on Dark Shadows; and like the individual characters, I was always relieved when they got indoors, into the foyer and then into the main drawing room—a safe haven for the most part, because that was where normal family life happened, where ghosts and vampires and witches were kept at bay at least when the individual family members met there. Of course the other parts of the house were not as ‘safe’; I need only think of the different rooms inhabited by ghosts, or rooms that were portals into parallel times. I think those are the parts of Tim Burton’s film that I liked the most—when the Collins family sat down to dinner, with the matriarch of the family, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Michele Pfeiffer) sitting at the head of the table, in complete control of her family. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell someone to be quiet, and he or she toed the line. At these times during the film, there was conversation, a sense of family, a sense of why these people stayed together and lived together in the house. Viewers learned about the history of the Collins family and how they made their living. There was character development and storyline progression. Much of this took place during the first half of the film. And then came the second half of the film, which took off into another realm completely—the absurd really, with Alice Cooper visiting the mansion as entertainment for one of the family’s famous ‘happenings’, or Angelique (played by Eva Green) ranting and raving about being scorned and how she would make Barnabas (Johnny Depp) and the family pay. She did a good job, but I would have preferred less emphasis on her and more on Barnabas and Victoria/Josette (played by Bella Heathcote), on Carolyn (played by Chloë Grace Moretz), or even on David (played by Gulliver McGrath). The film ends up being rather schizophrenic; I preferred the first half—the return of Barnabas, his entrance into and confrontation with the 20^th century, his meeting with his old family, his having to live and act as a vampire—all those things. The second half of the movie toyed with the first half. I would have preferred otherwise. But I am not sorry I saw the film. Why? Because after I got home, I went online and found some of the old Dark Shadows TV episodes on YouTube, and watched a few. And then I went onto Amazon and ordered the entire DVD collection of the original TV series (131 DVDs spanning 470 hours). I’ve decided that I will come home from work each day and watch one episode, just as I ran home from school in the 1970s to watch an episode on TV. I am looking forward to the experience of reliving the original series.

I’ve been following the reviews of Burton’s film to this point. The New York Times gave it a good review and even put it on its Critics’ Pick list: http://movies.nytimes.com/2012/05/11/movies/johnny-depp-stars-in-tim-burtons-dark-shadows.html. IMDB has a list of the different reviews so far: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1077368/externalreviews

But the review that resonated most with me was the one on Salon: http://www.salon.com/2012/05/10/johnny_depps_delirious_dark_shadows/. Why? The following excerpt from this review will explain it well: 

“Barnabas Collins predates not just “Twilight” and “True Blood,” but also Anne Rice’s “Interview With the Vampire” and the entire rise of the Goth sensibility. In the 1970s, vampires were something that only marginal weirdos who went to science-fiction bookstores and watched Hammer films like “Dracula: Prince of Darkness” knew about. People like the teenage Tim Burton, in other words”.

Well, marginal weirdo could describe me too. I may not have gone to sci-fi bookstores when I was a teenager (I’ve done so in my twenties and loved all the ones I’ve been in), but I did watch the many Christopher Lee vampire films and I even dragged my poor sister to them to keep me company. Heck, I dragged her to a lot of different horror films from that time. Needless to say, she does not have the same fond memories I have of time well-spent in dark movie theaters watching horror films. Of course, now that I think of it, she did accompany me, when she could have said no. Sometimes we were accompanied by a friend of hers, who was a marginal weirdo like myself. He liked those kinds of films, and was even the type to build models of Frankenstein and Dracula that glowed in the dark. I don’t know what happened to him after high school; I can only wonder if he too has seen Burton’s film. I would love to hear his take on the film.

The fascination with Sherlock

There have been many actors who have played Sherlock Holmes in both movies and TV films/series over the past eighty or so years; Wikipedia provides a long list of them—too many to list here in this post: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_actors_who_have_played_Sherlock_Holmes. I grew up watching the classic Sherlock Holmes films from the 1940s with Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson. Basil Rathbone has defined the persona Sherlock Holmes for me for many years with his intelligence and authoritative demeanor. We used to gather as a family on Saturday evenings in front of our black and white TV set and watch Sherlock Holmes solve one mystery after another with his colleague Dr. Watson. Memorable films include The Hound of the Baskervilles (with a hound trained to kill) and The Pearl of Death (with a deformed killer known as the Creeper who broke the backs of his victims). All of the films were entertaining thrillers, but these two films stand out in my mind as the most frightening, especially for a child. But we apparently enjoyed being scared along the way to the solution of the crimes, and we looked forward to our Saturday evening movie experiences.

Jeremy Brett’s portrayal of Sherlock Holmes in the TV series The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes that ran from 1984-85 is also memorable; the series was quite detailed, gritty and realistic, especially in dealing with Holmes’ drug addiction and visits to opium dens. Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking from 2004 with Rupert Everett as Sherlock Holmes was quite entertaining; Everett’s Holmes was less arrogant and a bit more friendly. Guy Ritchie’s first foray into the world of Sherlock Holmes was in 2009 with his film Sherlock Holmes, with Sherlock played by Robert Downey Jr and Watson played by Jude Law. Of all the Sherlock Holmes films I’ve seen, this one has to be the most action-packed. It was one long action film interspersed with crime-solving and was enjoyable to watch, although the character of Holmes as played by Downey is completely different than most other portrayals I’ve seen; you will either like that or you won’t. I enjoyed Ritchie’s first Sherlock film but have not yet seen the second.

And then—a new Sherlock Holmes—a truly pleasant surprise, in the TV series Sherlock (2010-present). The actor who plays Holmes, Benedict Cumberbatch, owns the role. His Holmes commands attention with his fierce intelligence, arrogant air, offhandedness and condescending attitude toward people he thinks are stupid—all those things that make the detective great. He may actually end up surpassing Rathbone's portrayal of Holmes. His Holmes is quite likable, in the way that difficult and infuriating people often are. Watching him makes you realize that geniuses like Sherlock in the world are thinking at a rate of speed that none of us can match. Cumberbatch manages to impart that important aspect of Holmes’ intelligence. He is way ahead of most people around him. This series has moved Holmes and Watson to London in the present time, and that by itself makes for some interesting changes—the use of cell phones to text, call or to take pictures, as well as the use of computers—all of these aid in the solving of the crimes. Doctor Watson, as played by Martin Freeman, is also a smart man, if a bit slower in his reasoning. He is feisty when he needs to be and can hold his own with Holmes. Here’s hoping that the series can sustain audience interest and survive to entertain us for the next several years.

Creatures of the night

Up late the other night—of course I regretted it the following day, but the reason I stayed up late was to watch the vampire film The Hunger from 1983 (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085701/) on TCM. I can never really pass up an opportunity to watch yet another stylishly-made horror film, and TCM is a great channel to find all those kinds of classic films, horror or otherwise. I won’t say I was enthralled by the film, but it didn’t disappoint either—it had its moments. It is definitely a film from the 1980s—I read somewhere that a critic had said it was like watching a long MTV video—chic and stylish with cool music, but without much substance—that was the gist of it. The Madonna song Vogue came to mind when I was watching it. The actors and actresses (David Bowie, Catherine Deneuve, and Susan Sarandon) did a lot of posing for the camera, but that was the way things were done then. The film was about modern-day vampires in an urban setting, who frequented New York City nightclubs looking for potential victims. These vampires were unlike most of the vampires we’ve come to know about--they could tolerate the light of day, they murdered their victims with small knives shaped like Egyptian ankhs, and they could see their reflections in mirrors. The story had to do with David Bowie’s vampire John trying to find a cure for his rapid aging that had suddenly set in and that would doom him to eternal life without his vampire lover Miriam (Catherine Deneuve) who had made him a vampire in the first place. The film was probably controversial when it came out due to some graphic scenes of violence and sexual (lesbian) activity. I don’t recall much talk about this film from that time, nor do I remember that it opened in many theaters (according to IMDB it opened in 775 theaters nationwide in the USA, approximately 15 per state if it opened in all of them—that’s not many). Perhaps it was considered an ‘art film’, in which case it would have opened at one or two theaters in Westchester County where I grew up.   

I’ve seen many vampire films in my lifetime—starting with the House of Dark Shadows from 1970 directed by Dan Curtis, with Jonathan Frid as the vampire Barnabas Collins (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0065856/), followed by Scars of Dracula and The Satanic Rites of Dracula (among several others) from 1970 and 1973 respectively (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0067713/; http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070634/) with Christopher Lee as the vampire (he made many Dracula films). These were followed by the original Nosferatu film from 1922 directed by FW Murnau with Max Schreck as a very scary Nosferatu (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0013442/), as well as Nosferatu the Vampyre from 1979 directed by Werner Herzog, with Klaus Kinski as Nosferatu (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079641/). I remember the New York Times review of the latter film talking about the furor in the Netherlands (where the film was partially shot) over Herzog’s wanting to release tens of thousands of rats for one of the scenes in the film.  Talk about the quest for realism on the part of a director.  

The classic Dracula from 1931, directed by Tod Browning, with Bela Lugosi (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021814/), and Dracula from 1979, directed by John Badham, with Frank Langella http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079073/, are very good films, as is Interview with the Vampire from 1994, directed by Neil Jordan, with Tom Cruise as Lestat (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0110148/). But in my opinion, the best vampire film I’ve ever seen is the 1992 film Bram Stoker’s Dracula directed by Francis Ford Coppola (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103874/). I remember watching it for the first time when it came out and being totally drawn in by its mastery and haunting atmosphere. I’ve since seen it several more times, and each time I watch it I admire it more and more as a nearly-perfect Dracula film. Gary Oldman as Dracula was brilliant casting—he did an incredible job, as did Keanu Reeves, Winona Ryder, Anthony Hopkins and all the others. It is the specific scenes in Coppola’s film that are unforgettable and haunting and that make it my favorite vampire movie—when Jonathan Harker (played by Keanu Reeves) arrives at Dracula’s castle and the shadow of the vampire precedes his entrance, Dracula crawling down the walls of the castle on one of his nightly outings, the appearance of the female vampires in the castle and their seduction of Jonathan, Dracula’s meeting with Mina, and so many more.

Besides Gary Oldman’s Dracula, I have to say that Jonathan Frid’s Barnabas Collins is my vampire of choice. I’m not a fan of the Twilight vampire movies; I saw the first film after reading the book and it was not for me, but I understand that many people do like it. I might have liked the series as a pre-teenager, but somehow I have the feeling that my entrance into the world of vampires was forever shaped by Dark Shadows. However campy the series might have been at times, it took itself seriously and has amassed a large number of fans through the years. I’m looking forward to Tim Burton’s version of Dark Shadows and Johnny Depp’s portrayal of Barnabas, but I doubt that anyone could ever surpass Jonathan Frid’s portrayal of Barnabas Collins.

One year ago

May 12th 2011 marks one year since I started this blog—a happy anniversary to be sure. I have often commented throughout this past year that this blog is a labor of love, and it remains so. I enjoy writing it, and even though there are times when it seems as though I’ve hit a dry spell, ideas and thoughts come flooding back after a few days. The experience of hitting the dry spells followed by the creative periods or vice versa has been a good reminder about the importance of patience and of learning to live one day at a time. It has also been a reminder not to worry too much about the actual process of writing. I actually knew this from before, because I have been writing poetry for years, and can attest to the fact that inspiration ebbs and flows like the tides, and sometimes does seem to come out of nowhere. But of course I know that there are a lot of things always going on in my subconscious, and that ideas and thoughts can suddenly bubble up to the surface of my consciousness, and then it’s up to me to grab them and to make something of them. It is a challenge these days, amid all the stress at work, to grab a hold of as many ideas as possible. Because one thing is certain, ideas come and go, but when they go, it is almost impossible to get them back in the form in which they first appeared. You lose the specific angle, the edge, the tone of the idea or thought you wished to present. It is frustrating when that happens, and is why I carry a notebook with me so that I can jot down ideas as they arise.

On May 12^th of last year, I attended a Town Hall meeting at the Hotel Bristol in downtown Oslo arranged by the American Embassy. It was the myriad of feelings resulting from that meeting that led to the desire to write a blog, to share my thoughts and feelings about being a New Yorker (and an American) in Oslo. I have realized that writing this blog has helped me reclaim my identity as an American. It is easy to lose one’s identity in a foreign country. You speak, write and read another language that is not your own. You must communicate with others in a language that is not your own. You risk misinterpreting what others mean because you do not understand the nuances in this new language. You risk saying things in the wrong way so that others misinterpret you.  In the beginning, it is challenging and fun to live behind the mask of a new culture and language; it can become exhausting to do so and ultimately unnecessary. No one in this country is expecting me to be Norwegian; it is my own impossible expectations that I had to fit into this culture that have made me tired at times. I am sure if I had been easier on myself that I would be less tired now. I would not have fit in any better, but I would have more energy!

A lot has happened during this past year. Perhaps the saddest event was the death of my friend and colleague, the American woman who attended the Town Hall meeting with me. We always enjoyed doing such things together as Americans in Oslo. It is only now that I am beginning to understand how much I miss her. And I see that my workplace misses her too. People are part of our lives, and then they are not. The contrast is blinding at times, like intense sunlight. Another reminder to ‘see’ the people who are in our lives—to not take them for granted.

I watched a very good film recently on TCM—The Straight Story. I recommend it highly. It is the moving story of an old man who sets out on a journey to visit his estranged brother whom he has not seen or talked to in ten years. It is based on the true-life story of Alvin Straight who traveled from Iowa to Wisconsin to visit his brother Lyle who had recently suffered a stroke. What makes the trip unique is that he makes the journey on a tractor, and travels through parts of the USA that seem to have been untouched by the passage of time. He meets truly friendly people along the way—who help him when his tractor breaks down and who share small parts of their lives with him. The film is made all the more touching by the fact that the actor who played Alvin--Richard Farnsworth--was terminally ill with cancer when he made the film. He committed suicide about a year after the film was released. His physical problems in the film were in fact real—he had problems walking and was in a lot of pain. His film ‘journey’ was his last journey—his confrontation with his own aging and mortality. It must have been incredibly difficult for him to make the film, and yet he did. You can see all of the different emotions he must have been experiencing so clearly in his face. There are very few films that make me really cry, that touch a really deep part of me—this was one of them. Watching it was yet another reminder about how the movement toward forgiveness of self and of others is one of the most difficult journeys we make in this life. It is the most important journey of all. 

“There are no answers, only choices”

I watched the sci-fi movie Solaris (from 2002) with George Clooney and Natascha McElhone for the third time the other night, and each time I watch the film I ‘discover’ something else about it that I didn’t remember from previous viewings. The film was directed by Steven Soderbergh and is a remake of the classic film (from 1972) of the same name directed by Andrey Tarkovskiy. I have not seen the 1972 film although it is on my ‘to watch’ list; nor have I read the novel by Polish author Stanisław Lem published in 1961. I’m guessing that the Tarkovskiy film would probably be as haunting a film as the Soderbergh film. Because that is the only word I can use to describe Soderbergh’s film—haunting. It gets under my skin in a way that no other sci-fi film/story can, with the possible exception of ‘I Am Legend’ (film(s) as well as the story by Richard Matheson). Everything about the film, the atmosphere, lighting, sets, music—combine to create a poignant and haunting film. In my view, the casting of Clooney and McElhone in the major roles as Chris Kelvin and Rheya (his wife) was a small stroke of genius. They are both wonderful to watch in their roles as partners in a sad marriage that ends with Rheya committing suicide.  McElhone manages to portray Rheya as an extremely interesting and attractive woman despite her psychological problems—beautiful, intelligent, classy, and sad. Rheya is a seeker, open to ideas of faith and belief in things one cannot see, and she is uncomfortable with aggressive, all-knowing people who bark out their opinions as though they were the only correct ones. But she is also a depressive personality, a woman who lives on the fringes of life and society, looking in and wanting to be a part of the life she sees around her, but knowing that she does not fit in. Chris is a psychologist and a pragmatist; he only believes in what he can see and know and dissect, and there are several points in the film where he almost gloatingly scoffs at Rheya’s faith in something other-worldly. He is right and she is not. You know by watching her eyes and body language in the film that his lack of faith and his pragmatism are helping to destroy her slowly, because she loves him but does not seem able to reach him. But he does not understand this nor does he intend to hurt her deliberately. Theirs is a marriage where you know that they love each other but their love is doomed to difficulties and problems from the start because they are such contrasting personalities. You know that the only way that things will change for them is through a tragic event. Chris just does not understand his wife, her vulnerability or her psychological problems, even though he is a psychologist and even though she has tried to be honest with him about them. She aborts their baby without telling Chris because she does not want to pass her depressive tendencies on to a child, and he explodes in anger at her when he finds this out and storms out of their apartment, whereupon she commits suicide thinking he has left her for good. After her death, Chris ends up out in space, a long way from earth, in orbit around the planet Solaris, after having been asked to investigate the crew on board who are acting strangely and reporting strange events onboard the ship. Solaris is a planet that seems to be able to read the minds/dreams of Chris and his colleagues on board the spaceship, and manages to ‘recreate’ the people they have lost to death back on earth, the ‘visitors’. Chris’ visitor is Rheya, and even though he knows that she is not really human, he becomes involved with her all over again and realizes that he wants to be with her for the rest of his life, with all of the implications surrounding that choice. He is warned by one of the team members named Dr. Gibarian to leave Solaris and to return to earth, because otherwise he will die there. Gibarian is also another of Chris’ ‘visitors’ who committed suicide shortly before Chris’ arrival; on earth he was his colleague and friend. When Gibarian ‘visits’ Chris, they have a conversation, where Chris asks him “What does Solaris want from us?” Gibarian replies: “Why do you think it has to want something? This is why you have to leave. If you keep thinking there's a solution, you'll die here.” Chris replies “I can't leave her. I'll figure it out”, whereupon Gibarian says to him “Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? There are no answers, only choices”.  And Chris makes his ‘choice’, and it is a choice that moves him from guilt to forgiveness to peace—his own spiritual evolution that allows him to move beyond his pragmatism and to take a leap of faith into the unknown. It is only by taking that leap of faith that he can know happiness, but he does not know that before he takes it. But he takes the risk.

It was the sentence —“There are no answers, only choices” that caught my attention this time while I watched the film.  I thought--how true that is. But I never ‘heard’ or truly internalized these words before, not the way I did the other night. Maybe because I have come to that point in my own life, where I have realized that there are no answers to certain situations, to certain problems—there are really only choices, and it is the fear of making the ‘wrong’ choice that can keep us stuck in one place. I seem to continue to want specific answers to specific problems though, and perhaps they will never be forthcoming. So if I learn to accept that there are no answers, then I turn to the choices to be made and ask myself, which is the right choice? But perhaps there are also no right or wrong choices, even though we want so much to make what we think is the ‘right’ choice—in love, in life, in work.  Perhaps we need to take more ‘leaps of faith’ into the unknown—because really, even when we make what we think is the right choice, we can never really know for sure what we are doing and whether it was the best choice. It simply is a choice that we made, that then led to a life. This is what is scary—should we take the leap of faith into the unknown of a new life, a new job, or a new relationship? And could we have escaped sadness and problems if we had chosen differently? Perhaps. But since we also do not have control over the lives and choices of others who impact on our lives because they are part of our lives, we cannot predict what will happen to us. It’s not easy to accept this sometimes, which makes it difficult to take the leap of faith into the unknown.

Two good sci-fi horror films--Alien and Pandorum

I keep promising myself that I won’t stay up late to watch sci-fi horror films on cable TV because they usually have a negative effect on my sleep. However, they’re not on all that often, so that when they do show up on cable, I’m tempted yet again to sit and watch them. I have been a sci-fi fan for years; the combination of sci-fi and horror started (for me) with the Alien films (four in all), all of which are excellent films due to tight plots and the terrific job that Sigourney Weaver did with her character Ripley in each of the films. And of course HR Giger, who crafted the Alien monster, did a fantastic job of creating one of the scariest non-humanoid creatures to ever inhabit a spaceship. The first Alien film (from 1979) mesmerized me. It managed to depict a claustrophobic, dark, scary and utterly mechanical/soul-less environment onboard the spaceship, which of course made the film very intense to watch. The scene in Alien where one of the crew goes in search of the missing cat in one of the more remote areas of the spaceship has to be one of the most nerve-wracking ever filmed. You know what’s coming, you just don’t know when and you’re not sure what the scene is going to look like. It delivers, as does the rest of the film. The other famous scene is one of the most revolting—suffice it to say that if you haven’t seen the film, you should be prepared for blood and a violent unusual alien birth. The Alien sequels also deliver, surprisingly enough, since sequels are usually never as good as the original film. This is not true of Alien 2, 3 or 4, which are stand-alone films and just as nerve-wracking to watch as the original, with the same measure of claustrophobia and terror.

I was reminded of Alien last night when I was watching Pandorum, a German-American sci-fi horror film from 2009 with Dennis Quaid and Ben Foster. Pandorum refers to the psychological condition of paranoia and hallucination that the astronauts experience due to their being in deep space. The film tells the story of the (remaining) astronauts who are on board a huge spaceship that is on a long journey to the planet Tanis, which they are to settle since Earth has been destroyed. All passengers on board are suspended in bio-chambers (pods) where they can sleep (a kind of dormance) for the long space journey. The spaceship also carries seeds and plants of all kinds that can be used in the creation of a new society on Tanis. But when the astronauts emerge from the pods they have problems remembering their mission, who they are, and what they are doing on board the ship, and they spend a good deal of time trying to figure out what is going on and what has happened to most of their fellow passengers who have disappeared. The film is pretty scary, with the same kind of claustrophobic intensity and paranoia that Alien has, but unlike Alien, its monsters are not aliens. Rather, they’re fast-moving strong humanoid-like monsters that were once human, but which mutated/evolved into monsters due to a combination of circumstances that the film explains nicely. They have been hunting and eating the passengers on board the spaceship that has become stranded on its way to Tanis. One of the major plot ideas of the film is that the remaining astronauts must repair the ship’s nuclear reactor before it shuts down and destroys the ship, and this quest puts them in constant danger as they must battle these creatures on their way to the reactor. You don’t find out until the end of the film what really happened to the spaceship or what has happened to the captain, which is good because the ending is definitely worth waiting for. Pandorum is a very good film on a par with Alien, and that’s saying a lot.

So I broke my promise to myself and watched Pandorum, which brought to mind Alien, and which led to my writing this post. I’m guessing that my life will be like this for a long time to come—loving and hating being scared at the same time and arguing with myself about whether or not I should watch these films. My husband doesn’t like these types of movies; he will always say how unrealistic they are. My father used to say the same thing. I know this is true, but there’s a part of my mind that’s willing to suspend reality so that I can enjoy such films. You either like sci-fi horror or you don’t. I guess I fall into the first category. I’ll write more about some of my favorite sci-fi films in future posts.