- Published on
On many, many occasions -- perhaps far too many to keep track of -- we fans get accused of taking things way too seriously.
During much of the 1970's and 1980's, in fact, Bill Shatner and several others near and dear to the Star Trek franchise earned laughs by telling fandom to "Get a life!" The sad reality of that commentary is that if all of those fans had 'gotten a life' then Bill, Leonard, and George's lives would've been spent in pursuit of riches earned elsewhere instead of from that same fandom, but I'll give them a pass because, sure, I agree that we sometimes do cling a bit too fondly to things that might not mean as much today as they did in our youth.
In that regard, Den Of Geek is reporting that Lucasfilm head honcho Kathleen Kennedy has finally "put a pin" in that whole issue about whether or not fans can expect to see the original versions of Star Wars (A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return Of The Jedi) available either theatrically and/or on home video: for those who missed it, the answer appears to be a resounding "no." She goes one step further by saying that those original visions really belong to George, a sentiment that I've always agreed with but like anyone hate to be reminded of so frequently. It would appear those folks claiming that those cuts of the immortal space fantasy are better than the Special Editions will never get the capitalist opportunity to test the theory in today's mainstream, and blah blah blah it is what it is.
Now, first off ...
I've never considered myself one of those folks who thought George Lucas "raped my childhood" by tinkering with the original films. Like Ms. Kennedy alleges, they're really his vision, and if he's decided his vision needed some window dressing then so be it. Granted, it would be nice to have some modern means of comparing the old and the new without having to resort to VHS tapes or YouTube.com, but in the end I'm not sure one home-based viewing would definitively make anyone feel better about the never-ending debate. (Despite what anyone -- including Harrison Ford -- says, I know without a doubt that Greedo shot first.)
And second off ...
Even though Kennedy tries to make hers the last word on the subject, I can't say that I'll believe it until I see it (or I reach the grave, whichever comes first). Even though she's trying to couch her argument in terms of artistic integrity, Star Wars has and always will be a commercial venture, and when the modern well runs dry of re-invention you know that the Mouse House won't pass up the opportunity to 'make a buck' on finally giving the fans what they're clamored for since those Special Editions saw the light of day and the dim of the cinema lights.
Lastly, do I want to see them?
Sure. It would be nice.
Is my life going to be incomplete if I don't see them again?
No. Absolutely not.
Those who know me well know that I'm no fan of what JJ Abrams did to the saga with Star Wars: Episode VII: The Force Awakens, but I'm not exactly losing sleep over any of it. It's still a tale that'll always interest me, and I, like most, clamor for more and not less from that galaxy far, far away.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
During much of the 1970's and 1980's, in fact, Bill Shatner and several others near and dear to the Star Trek franchise earned laughs by telling fandom to "Get a life!" The sad reality of that commentary is that if all of those fans had 'gotten a life' then Bill, Leonard, and George's lives would've been spent in pursuit of riches earned elsewhere instead of from that same fandom, but I'll give them a pass because, sure, I agree that we sometimes do cling a bit too fondly to things that might not mean as much today as they did in our youth.
In that regard, Den Of Geek is reporting that Lucasfilm head honcho Kathleen Kennedy has finally "put a pin" in that whole issue about whether or not fans can expect to see the original versions of Star Wars (A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return Of The Jedi) available either theatrically and/or on home video: for those who missed it, the answer appears to be a resounding "no." She goes one step further by saying that those original visions really belong to George, a sentiment that I've always agreed with but like anyone hate to be reminded of so frequently. It would appear those folks claiming that those cuts of the immortal space fantasy are better than the Special Editions will never get the capitalist opportunity to test the theory in today's mainstream, and blah blah blah it is what it is.
Now, first off ...
I've never considered myself one of those folks who thought George Lucas "raped my childhood" by tinkering with the original films. Like Ms. Kennedy alleges, they're really his vision, and if he's decided his vision needed some window dressing then so be it. Granted, it would be nice to have some modern means of comparing the old and the new without having to resort to VHS tapes or YouTube.com, but in the end I'm not sure one home-based viewing would definitively make anyone feel better about the never-ending debate. (Despite what anyone -- including Harrison Ford -- says, I know without a doubt that Greedo shot first.)
And second off ...
Even though Kennedy tries to make hers the last word on the subject, I can't say that I'll believe it until I see it (or I reach the grave, whichever comes first). Even though she's trying to couch her argument in terms of artistic integrity, Star Wars has and always will be a commercial venture, and when the modern well runs dry of re-invention you know that the Mouse House won't pass up the opportunity to 'make a buck' on finally giving the fans what they're clamored for since those Special Editions saw the light of day and the dim of the cinema lights.
Lastly, do I want to see them?
Sure. It would be nice.
Is my life going to be incomplete if I don't see them again?
No. Absolutely not.
Those who know me well know that I'm no fan of what JJ Abrams did to the saga with Star Wars: Episode VII: The Force Awakens, but I'm not exactly losing sleep over any of it. It's still a tale that'll always interest me, and I, like most, clamor for more and not less from that galaxy far, far away.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
- Published on
I’ve heard it said that the act of smiling is perhaps an act near and dear to what it means to be uniquely human. Cows don't do it. Neither do fish. (Well, not so much that we know, any way.) But only in the fantastical world of Doctor Who can it be supposed that smiling might just delay our own extinction. Indeed, that’s the premise that fuels “Smile,” the second episode of Who’s tenth season (since relaunching in the mid-2000’s) on the BBC.
While still getting to know one another, the Doctor and Bill conspire to escape the hum drum of their present-day circumstance with a quick trip to the tomorrow. There, they find a beautiful city curiously void of human life, and in its place a veritable army of emoji-expressive androids willing to provide for their every need. The catch? You must remain happy for any other unwelcome emotions will force the automatons to reduce the sufferer to dust, bones, and fertilizer. Despite the circumstances, it’s a delightful hour that gives the Doctor and his newest companion a chance to work out the kinks of their ‘Abbott & Costello’ routine while staying alive and guaranteeing peace for an all-new race of man (or a reasonable facsimile thereof.)
While still getting to know one another, the Doctor and Bill conspire to escape the hum drum of their present-day circumstance with a quick trip to the tomorrow. There, they find a beautiful city curiously void of human life, and in its place a veritable army of emoji-expressive androids willing to provide for their every need. The catch? You must remain happy for any other unwelcome emotions will force the automatons to reduce the sufferer to dust, bones, and fertilizer. Despite the circumstances, it’s a delightful hour that gives the Doctor and his newest companion a chance to work out the kinks of their ‘Abbott & Costello’ routine while staying alive and guaranteeing peace for an all-new race of man (or a reasonable facsimile thereof.)
Mark my words: a lesser show with lesser talent quite probably would not have run an hour like "Smile" so early in its new season.
Why?
Well, for starters the true lion's share of the action involves solely Capaldi and Who newcomer Pearl Mackie (as Bill). In a clinical sense, these two are still getting to know one another -- both on the page and off -- and you have to give major kudos to the talent on-screen and behind it to deliver so winning a combination as is demonstrated here. You have to be listening closely to know just how 'fresh' these two are to each other as their chemistry as a time-and-space-travelling duo works quite well from start to finish. The relationship is set in stone, largely thanks to decades of previous companions, but its the chemistry that makes it all palpable.
A lesser show would've stuck this hour later in its production schedule, giving the principals more time to not so much as to acclimate to one another's quirks. But not Who. Who requires them to be at the top of their game each and every hour, and that's a testament to both great acting as it is solid writing.
Why?
Well, for starters the true lion's share of the action involves solely Capaldi and Who newcomer Pearl Mackie (as Bill). In a clinical sense, these two are still getting to know one another -- both on the page and off -- and you have to give major kudos to the talent on-screen and behind it to deliver so winning a combination as is demonstrated here. You have to be listening closely to know just how 'fresh' these two are to each other as their chemistry as a time-and-space-travelling duo works quite well from start to finish. The relationship is set in stone, largely thanks to decades of previous companions, but its the chemistry that makes it all palpable.
A lesser show would've stuck this hour later in its production schedule, giving the principals more time to not so much as to acclimate to one another's quirks. But not Who. Who requires them to be at the top of their game each and every hour, and that's a testament to both great acting as it is solid writing.
In many ways, “Smile” feels like a nostalgic throwback to the days when Who was kinder, gentler, and (dare I say?) simpler: one basic premise (a race of exterminating robots called the Vardy) fuels the narrative through the beginning, middle, and end, even requiring that Earth’s sole survivors will have to reach some compromise with these exterminators of their own creation in order to live to see another day. There are no threats of something greater out there, no ‘Bad Wolf’ lurking on the horizon taking up plot space, and Capaldi almost revels in telling an old-fashioned “good vs. evil” story where the twist is “you fuddy-duddies might want to stop making fun of the Millennial generation and embrace them because – like it or not – they are the future.”
Essentially, a fundamental misperception about the human experience fuels the Vardy storyline: because they’ve misinterpreted data to the point of believing anyone found unhappy needs to be eliminated from this future Utopia these bots become genocidally-driven Frankensteins. I suppose there’s a message in there for today’s technologically savvy generation. You know the ones? Those driven by ‘likes’ and ‘dislikes’ and ‘favorites’ on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter? “Be wary of what you desire,” so the moral goes, “or you shall perish from it.” Under Doctor Who’s sugary packaging, that message certainly isn’t hard to swallow, and it goes down with the same ease as a jelly bean.
As is his drive, the time traveler from Gallifrey is quick with a solution, so much so that even he early on “misinterprets the signs” to mean something other than what they truly do, positioning him and Bill with nearly annihilating an entire ship and its cryogenically sleeping crew by accident. (Oddly enough, that turn of events would’ve wiped out not only Earth’s last survivors but also the Vardy, which turns out to be a newly sentient race.) It takes the face of a young boy – one of the earliest to wake up from his technological slumber – for the Doctor to see the error of his ways and to put the tale on course for a more amicable solution.
Essentially, a fundamental misperception about the human experience fuels the Vardy storyline: because they’ve misinterpreted data to the point of believing anyone found unhappy needs to be eliminated from this future Utopia these bots become genocidally-driven Frankensteins. I suppose there’s a message in there for today’s technologically savvy generation. You know the ones? Those driven by ‘likes’ and ‘dislikes’ and ‘favorites’ on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter? “Be wary of what you desire,” so the moral goes, “or you shall perish from it.” Under Doctor Who’s sugary packaging, that message certainly isn’t hard to swallow, and it goes down with the same ease as a jelly bean.
As is his drive, the time traveler from Gallifrey is quick with a solution, so much so that even he early on “misinterprets the signs” to mean something other than what they truly do, positioning him and Bill with nearly annihilating an entire ship and its cryogenically sleeping crew by accident. (Oddly enough, that turn of events would’ve wiped out not only Earth’s last survivors but also the Vardy, which turns out to be a newly sentient race.) It takes the face of a young boy – one of the earliest to wake up from his technological slumber – for the Doctor to see the error of his ways and to put the tale on course for a more amicable solution.
What’s somewhat amiss with “Smile” is Earth’s true fate; it’s gone, though we’re never told precisely why just that its survivors blasted off on ships for the stars.
Granted, there are hints of what caused our world’s demise but nothing glaringly specific as instead a helpful montage makes it look like a death suffered from ‘a thousand cuts.’ Some might argue that the cause isn’t so important as is the reality that the Big Blue Marble is dead, but call me naïve if you will for wanting a bit more undiluted closure. All too often, SciFi defends the negative – the end of civilization – by casually and somewhat callously blaming mankind for all that ails us, but we’re just as likely to be bombarded by an extinction-level-event brought on by nature so long as we make it through our own worst propaganda. Indeed, it would look these survivors haven’t learned much since the first they do when facing a threat on this new world is to reach for their guns; and the Doctor pretty much leaves then there to work out the particulars of a treaty with these emoji-driven bots in the grand finale.
Another bone of contention? Well, I’ve grew weary long ago of spacecraft interiors looking more like a souped-up factory in Newcastle. Thematically, it made a bit more sense in “Smile” as the crude, industrial look serves a visual counterpoint to the stylized, antiseptic corridors built and manned by robots, but it was still a bit disappointing. All-in-all, I suspect this is owed as much to budgetary constraints as it is any other influence.
Lastly, there are still a few existing breadcrumbs dropped along the way, hints to greater events perhaps at work in this last season for Capaldi. Thankfully, most of them appear in the opening segments in the TARDIS, allowing much of this hour to function independently for newcomers to the franchise. It would seem that showrunner Steven Moffat is sticking to his pledge to make Who easier for new fans to board the popular program as even he is looking toward his exit at the end of this season. I remain one fan happy for Who to weave more stand-alone stories as I think the reliance on too much background makes for occasionally muddled storytelling.
Granted, there are hints of what caused our world’s demise but nothing glaringly specific as instead a helpful montage makes it look like a death suffered from ‘a thousand cuts.’ Some might argue that the cause isn’t so important as is the reality that the Big Blue Marble is dead, but call me naïve if you will for wanting a bit more undiluted closure. All too often, SciFi defends the negative – the end of civilization – by casually and somewhat callously blaming mankind for all that ails us, but we’re just as likely to be bombarded by an extinction-level-event brought on by nature so long as we make it through our own worst propaganda. Indeed, it would look these survivors haven’t learned much since the first they do when facing a threat on this new world is to reach for their guns; and the Doctor pretty much leaves then there to work out the particulars of a treaty with these emoji-driven bots in the grand finale.
Another bone of contention? Well, I’ve grew weary long ago of spacecraft interiors looking more like a souped-up factory in Newcastle. Thematically, it made a bit more sense in “Smile” as the crude, industrial look serves a visual counterpoint to the stylized, antiseptic corridors built and manned by robots, but it was still a bit disappointing. All-in-all, I suspect this is owed as much to budgetary constraints as it is any other influence.
Lastly, there are still a few existing breadcrumbs dropped along the way, hints to greater events perhaps at work in this last season for Capaldi. Thankfully, most of them appear in the opening segments in the TARDIS, allowing much of this hour to function independently for newcomers to the franchise. It would seem that showrunner Steven Moffat is sticking to his pledge to make Who easier for new fans to board the popular program as even he is looking toward his exit at the end of this season. I remain one fan happy for Who to weave more stand-alone stories as I think the reliance on too much background makes for occasionally muddled storytelling.
- Published on
In this morning from the "Friends Of SciFiHistory.Net" Department comes Jessica Osborne's retro-review of Isaac Asimov's seminal "I, Robot," arguably one of the best tales of Artificial Intelligence and its interactions with mankind ever. Jess relates her thoughts on the book to today's cutting edge television drama, Humans, in the way that a good thinker would. You can access her column right here, and feel free to join in the conversation if you're so inclined.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
- Published on
For the record, I am not a fan of this idea.
There’s nothing wrong with creating a broader backstory for the greater mythology of Superman. Indeed, DC Comics from time to time has tinkered with the legend of Krypton – its people, its places, its cruel fate – and some of those stories have even been pretty darn compelling. Still, I think Syfy’s Caprica showed audiences that sometimes there really isn’t much “there” there when you go about investigating the story behind the story, but Syfy seems to be willing to wade into such treacherous waters as this latest trailer for the Krypton television series indicates.
And – for that matter – I’m on record as having just downright hated what Warner Bros.’s Man Of Steel did with Jor-El. For Pete’s sake, the man was a renowned scientist, people, and he wasn’t the cultural prototype of the cinematic action figure. I have no quibbles with giving him some greater substance and/or subtext given the fact that he’s obviously tied so closely to the lessons his son learns years on Earth … but at some point “the son becomes the father” gets stretched thin when we learn that long dead world needed a Superman of its very own.
This isn’t to say that Krypton won’t become a favorite in my household. It’s just an honest reflection of how we as storytellers sometimes look for meaning where occasionally there isn’t any and then we go about re-shaping it until there is. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that Krypton doesn’t go too far into that frontier, and – as always – thanks for reading!
There’s nothing wrong with creating a broader backstory for the greater mythology of Superman. Indeed, DC Comics from time to time has tinkered with the legend of Krypton – its people, its places, its cruel fate – and some of those stories have even been pretty darn compelling. Still, I think Syfy’s Caprica showed audiences that sometimes there really isn’t much “there” there when you go about investigating the story behind the story, but Syfy seems to be willing to wade into such treacherous waters as this latest trailer for the Krypton television series indicates.
And – for that matter – I’m on record as having just downright hated what Warner Bros.’s Man Of Steel did with Jor-El. For Pete’s sake, the man was a renowned scientist, people, and he wasn’t the cultural prototype of the cinematic action figure. I have no quibbles with giving him some greater substance and/or subtext given the fact that he’s obviously tied so closely to the lessons his son learns years on Earth … but at some point “the son becomes the father” gets stretched thin when we learn that long dead world needed a Superman of its very own.
This isn’t to say that Krypton won’t become a favorite in my household. It’s just an honest reflection of how we as storytellers sometimes look for meaning where occasionally there isn’t any and then we go about re-shaping it until there is. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that Krypton doesn’t go too far into that frontier, and – as always – thanks for reading!
- Published on
Like so many, I’ve been a bit disillusioned with the BBC’s somewhat protracted break between the latest seasons of its long-running Doctor Who. Thankfully, however, our hunger was finally satiated with “The Pilot,” the first outing for the program’s tenth season, one that also promises to include Peter Capaldi’s swan song as the legendary time traveler.
Now, I won’t ballyhoo any arguments regarding the show’s quality as of late. As a critic, my mindset has always been “it is what it is." instead, I try to react positively or negatively to stories and performances as presented instead of offering up my essentially useless commentary on “nine ways to make Doctor Who watchable” again.
To all the haters in cyberspace: "Hey, I’m all for offering suggestions. I simply try to do them in the spirit of being constructive and respectful."
Now, I won’t ballyhoo any arguments regarding the show’s quality as of late. As a critic, my mindset has always been “it is what it is." instead, I try to react positively or negatively to stories and performances as presented instead of offering up my essentially useless commentary on “nine ways to make Doctor Who watchable” again.
To all the haters in cyberspace: "Hey, I’m all for offering suggestions. I simply try to do them in the spirit of being constructive and respectful."
Those qualifiers out of the proverbial way, I do realize that the stories have perhaps grown a bit heavy (for some) if not downright dull at times. I’d certainly agree that the writers haven’t delivered some of their more riveting adventures for this twelfth incarnation of the man from Gallifrey.
Succinctly, I suspect it’s these lukewarm tales which have contributed in no small part to Capaldi’s strained reception as the Doctor by fandom, but I’ve enjoyed his portrayal quite a bit. Sure, he’s been occasionally a bit too snippy, but I’d argue that the actor has imbued the lead with a much more ‘mature curiosity’ than did David Tennant or Matt Smith. Theirs was always a wide-eyed optimism – a sentiment I prefer from the less schooled companions, honestly, as I think wisdom tends to make the adult mind function with greater realism when confronted with 'The End Of Life As We Know It' scenarios.
(Again, that’s not a reflection on “quality,” just a general observation. I’ve written before that Capaldi seems a bit closer to, say, Tom Baker or Patrick Troughton though I’ll admit I haven’t seen as much of the second Doctor’s material as I would like).
Succinctly, I suspect it’s these lukewarm tales which have contributed in no small part to Capaldi’s strained reception as the Doctor by fandom, but I’ve enjoyed his portrayal quite a bit. Sure, he’s been occasionally a bit too snippy, but I’d argue that the actor has imbued the lead with a much more ‘mature curiosity’ than did David Tennant or Matt Smith. Theirs was always a wide-eyed optimism – a sentiment I prefer from the less schooled companions, honestly, as I think wisdom tends to make the adult mind function with greater realism when confronted with 'The End Of Life As We Know It' scenarios.
(Again, that’s not a reflection on “quality,” just a general observation. I’ve written before that Capaldi seems a bit closer to, say, Tom Baker or Patrick Troughton though I’ll admit I haven’t seen as much of the second Doctor’s material as I would like).
Still, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that from time to time it grows difficult to craft something that doesn’t feel repetitive or redundant, especially given Who’s longevity. Fifty-plus years of storytelling can make for some monumental challenges; indeed, I suspect that cold, harsh reality has fueled both showrunner Steven Moffat AND Capaldi’s desire to move along and allow some new blood to do what it can with the franchise. I think the actor’s calling out Who as being “a bit of a factory” can be interpreted as just that: why churn out ‘products’ when you’re essentially trained to develop ‘art’?
“The Pilot” did kinda/sorta serve to creatively reset Who in so much as it made it easier than most series premieres to encourage new viewers that now was a great time to board the property: ignoring the decades of history, the simple story established this Doctor as little more than a renowned university professor … with a secret. (Don’t they all have secrets?) Not-quite-a-student Bill Potts (played by Pearl Mackie) notices things are afoot within the school, and she begins her own investigation of the mysterious stranger. As so often happens when one layer is pulled back to reveal yet another, Bill serves as an inquisitive centerpiece around which the vast world of Who can now be explored as if nothing has yet been discovered about the traveler, his TARDIS, or his allies and enemies.
“The Pilot” did kinda/sorta serve to creatively reset Who in so much as it made it easier than most series premieres to encourage new viewers that now was a great time to board the property: ignoring the decades of history, the simple story established this Doctor as little more than a renowned university professor … with a secret. (Don’t they all have secrets?) Not-quite-a-student Bill Potts (played by Pearl Mackie) notices things are afoot within the school, and she begins her own investigation of the mysterious stranger. As so often happens when one layer is pulled back to reveal yet another, Bill serves as an inquisitive centerpiece around which the vast world of Who can now be explored as if nothing has yet been discovered about the traveler, his TARDIS, or his allies and enemies.
To her credit as well as a smart script (from Moffat), Mackie shines more than I expected.
No disrespect intended, but I’d honestly hated the character as she’s been portrayed solely in advertisements leading up to the tenth season launch; she was constantly shown as an almost bug-eyed tween handy with a quip rather than an intelligent refrain, perhaps going in for quick, cheap laughs as opposed to legitimate character exploration. Instead, her first forty-nine minutes in the Who universe ably positioned her as not so much an entirely original creation but instead one more meticulously-crafted youthful observer in the growing fraternity of companions. Who knows? She probably polls well with BBC executives. But because she was handled so well, I’ll happily watch her development.
Also, a huge improvement in “The Pilot” was the handling of Nardole as played by the infinitely reliable Matt Lucas. His previous visits to Who painted him as an occasionally screechy victim – think ‘the damsel in distress’ but in the body of a timid, chunky, bald male – and I felt his talents were being wasted on so thin an invention. But the premiere dialed back the lunacy in favor of making Nardole a willing participant in these affairs, a departure from what had come before. In fact, Lucas cleverly deadpanned most of the hour’s funniest moments; and Who can always benefit from a few more laughs.
No disrespect intended, but I’d honestly hated the character as she’s been portrayed solely in advertisements leading up to the tenth season launch; she was constantly shown as an almost bug-eyed tween handy with a quip rather than an intelligent refrain, perhaps going in for quick, cheap laughs as opposed to legitimate character exploration. Instead, her first forty-nine minutes in the Who universe ably positioned her as not so much an entirely original creation but instead one more meticulously-crafted youthful observer in the growing fraternity of companions. Who knows? She probably polls well with BBC executives. But because she was handled so well, I’ll happily watch her development.
Also, a huge improvement in “The Pilot” was the handling of Nardole as played by the infinitely reliable Matt Lucas. His previous visits to Who painted him as an occasionally screechy victim – think ‘the damsel in distress’ but in the body of a timid, chunky, bald male – and I felt his talents were being wasted on so thin an invention. But the premiere dialed back the lunacy in favor of making Nardole a willing participant in these affairs, a departure from what had come before. In fact, Lucas cleverly deadpanned most of the hour’s funniest moments; and Who can always benefit from a few more laughs.
The downside?
Well ...
As a one-off ‘Villain Of The Week’ the sinister watery alien didn’t thrill this watcher. (FYI: we’ve seen watery creations in the universe consistently in the past few seasons, and that may’ve struck the wrong chord with me.) The fact that this adversary turned out to be largely misunderstood certainly improved my reception of it in the last reel; but I was still left wondering about what species set these events in motion and whether or not they serve some other hidden agenda in the Doctor’s fate.
Also, the adventure seemed to revel in the fact that it was dropping breadcrumbs a bit too often. What the Doctor is doing simply hiding out at university wasn't discussed at any length, though it very well might have something to do with a vault kept within one building's poorly lit basement. In particular, Moffat (as a screenwriter) seems smitten with this kind of protracted storytelling device -- planting a seed that'll blossom into something grand later -- so perhaps I've grown used to not having all of my concerns addressed in a single hour. Dare I say that it isn't the most effective use of screen time in Science Fiction in particular where viewers like to have clear questions and answers in a single sitting?
“The Pilot” ended with just the right amount of charm, positioning this new team as ready for what might lie ahead. Granted, longtime watchers are probably aware of Capaldi’s impending departure from the show and that reality might force us to pay closer attention over the coming weeks … but I’m liking the vibe and hoping Moffat might be able to pull one more rabbit out of his hat before regeneration rears its ugly head.
Well ...
As a one-off ‘Villain Of The Week’ the sinister watery alien didn’t thrill this watcher. (FYI: we’ve seen watery creations in the universe consistently in the past few seasons, and that may’ve struck the wrong chord with me.) The fact that this adversary turned out to be largely misunderstood certainly improved my reception of it in the last reel; but I was still left wondering about what species set these events in motion and whether or not they serve some other hidden agenda in the Doctor’s fate.
Also, the adventure seemed to revel in the fact that it was dropping breadcrumbs a bit too often. What the Doctor is doing simply hiding out at university wasn't discussed at any length, though it very well might have something to do with a vault kept within one building's poorly lit basement. In particular, Moffat (as a screenwriter) seems smitten with this kind of protracted storytelling device -- planting a seed that'll blossom into something grand later -- so perhaps I've grown used to not having all of my concerns addressed in a single hour. Dare I say that it isn't the most effective use of screen time in Science Fiction in particular where viewers like to have clear questions and answers in a single sitting?
“The Pilot” ended with just the right amount of charm, positioning this new team as ready for what might lie ahead. Granted, longtime watchers are probably aware of Capaldi’s impending departure from the show and that reality might force us to pay closer attention over the coming weeks … but I’m liking the vibe and hoping Moffat might be able to pull one more rabbit out of his hat before regeneration rears its ugly head.
- Published on
To quote a nameless pop culture icon, "I love it when a plan comes together!"
I've been toiling behind-the-scenes as of late in trying to get some items together for May's Star Wars celebration for these pages, but I thought it appropriate to stop by with a quick update as today -- April 18th -- is another one of our 50 Citation Days! Woohoo! Yea, me!
In case you've missed today's citations, please feel free to follow the link right here. Lots and lots and lots of good stuff in there, and I'm sure you'll find something interesting.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
I've been toiling behind-the-scenes as of late in trying to get some items together for May's Star Wars celebration for these pages, but I thought it appropriate to stop by with a quick update as today -- April 18th -- is another one of our 50 Citation Days! Woohoo! Yea, me!
In case you've missed today's citations, please feel free to follow the link right here. Lots and lots and lots of good stuff in there, and I'm sure you'll find something interesting.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
- Published on
As long as man has grasped the ability to imagine he’s lifted his eyes to the stars, sought out the brightest light in the sky, and wondered “What if I could go there?” It’s a sentiment that inevitably took us to the moon, and – as of late – it’s serving to fuel more and more interest in setting down boots on the surface of Mars. From what our teachers told us, Mars is the closest approximation to Earth we may ever find (or certainly ever visit in the foreseeable future), and even private companies have begun searching for ways to hop aboard the Mars Express for what might be the greatest adventure of our lifetime.
Films popular with audiences continue to explore what “man in space” might truly look like; and while many of them pony up more fanciful observations than they do true science Hollywood and beyond has grown more interested in the practical logistics of legitimate space exploration. I’ve read that most folks attribute this newfound desire to “get it right” is owed to the fact that Mars is daily growing more and more within our technological grasp, so why wouldn’t an organization like National Geographic wish to get to the front of the line in such portrayals?
NatGeo – in its purest sense – has always been about the science, and they’ve definitely given audiences something to think about with MARS, a fictional examination of what awaits us about two decades down the space-faring road.
Films popular with audiences continue to explore what “man in space” might truly look like; and while many of them pony up more fanciful observations than they do true science Hollywood and beyond has grown more interested in the practical logistics of legitimate space exploration. I’ve read that most folks attribute this newfound desire to “get it right” is owed to the fact that Mars is daily growing more and more within our technological grasp, so why wouldn’t an organization like National Geographic wish to get to the front of the line in such portrayals?
NatGeo – in its purest sense – has always been about the science, and they’ve definitely given audiences something to think about with MARS, a fictional examination of what awaits us about two decades down the space-faring road.
(NOTE: the following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From IMDB.com:
“The first manned mission from Earth to Mars in 2033 attempts to colonize the red planet.”
Certainly, there’s much more than goes on in MARS than just man’s expansion onto the fourth planet in our solar system, but that concise summary does the trick. Truth be told, there’s arguably as much drama going on back here on Earth at times as the (fictionalized) viewing public goes through the emotional highs and lows common to the Apollo program and the various nations of the world sponsoring this first venture begin to wonder whether it’s all worth it. While there are perhaps a million good reasons for us to push out from the Big Blue Marble onto the red one, there’s no escaping the fact that we – as beings – weren’t exactly “designed” for space much less another world entirely; and it’s these risks that keep MARS as mostly reliable “edge of your seat” viewing.
This first season is broken up into six hours (the home video set includes a seventh one which is essentially a behind-the-scenes documentary on the making-of the entire series) which cover the first few missions meant to colonize that world and the troubles these explorers encounter. To my surprise, much of it is exceedingly accessible despite the preponderance of science, and that’s largely due to the way the series is constructed: the segments kinda/sorta jog back-and-forth between fiction and documentary. For example, when the astronauts reach Mars but are hamstrung by orbital problems, the producers cut away to today’s scientists explaining precisely what kinds of challenges we can expect to stand in our way on such a fateful journey. So instead of bombarding the audience with bells, whistles, and flashing lights without explanation, MARS strikes a balance between the story and the science, a narrative device that’s probably as risky as it is effective at times.
From IMDB.com:
“The first manned mission from Earth to Mars in 2033 attempts to colonize the red planet.”
Certainly, there’s much more than goes on in MARS than just man’s expansion onto the fourth planet in our solar system, but that concise summary does the trick. Truth be told, there’s arguably as much drama going on back here on Earth at times as the (fictionalized) viewing public goes through the emotional highs and lows common to the Apollo program and the various nations of the world sponsoring this first venture begin to wonder whether it’s all worth it. While there are perhaps a million good reasons for us to push out from the Big Blue Marble onto the red one, there’s no escaping the fact that we – as beings – weren’t exactly “designed” for space much less another world entirely; and it’s these risks that keep MARS as mostly reliable “edge of your seat” viewing.
This first season is broken up into six hours (the home video set includes a seventh one which is essentially a behind-the-scenes documentary on the making-of the entire series) which cover the first few missions meant to colonize that world and the troubles these explorers encounter. To my surprise, much of it is exceedingly accessible despite the preponderance of science, and that’s largely due to the way the series is constructed: the segments kinda/sorta jog back-and-forth between fiction and documentary. For example, when the astronauts reach Mars but are hamstrung by orbital problems, the producers cut away to today’s scientists explaining precisely what kinds of challenges we can expect to stand in our way on such a fateful journey. So instead of bombarding the audience with bells, whistles, and flashing lights without explanation, MARS strikes a balance between the story and the science, a narrative device that’s probably as risky as it is effective at times.
Naturally, these moments of exposition help viewers understand what’s going on up on the small screen; however, I found them occasionally distracting in so much as they served to push me out of the excitement when I’m used to being pulled inside.
To further confound matters in the program’s earliest hours, the screenwriters even insert a faux documentary into the drama, allowing fictional characters to sound off on what they were anticipating once they arrived on our neighboring planet. They even allowed the future’s fictional experts to occasionally comment on affairs; and this forced me early on to realize that MARS as constructed was really not intended for casual viewing. After all, you couldn’t take your eyes off those first two hours without knowing for sure whether or not you were being presented with a literal scientist (from today) or a figurative one (from our future), a development that did not work as well as I suspect was intended. Thankfully, this film-within-a-film technique lessens as the series goes on, and there’s much more old-fashioned storytelling to the final three episodes than was in the first three.
So long as you’re able to keep that straight, MARS excels at doing what it set out to do, giving you a picture of the true risks associated with space travel and planetary colonization.
To further confound matters in the program’s earliest hours, the screenwriters even insert a faux documentary into the drama, allowing fictional characters to sound off on what they were anticipating once they arrived on our neighboring planet. They even allowed the future’s fictional experts to occasionally comment on affairs; and this forced me early on to realize that MARS as constructed was really not intended for casual viewing. After all, you couldn’t take your eyes off those first two hours without knowing for sure whether or not you were being presented with a literal scientist (from today) or a figurative one (from our future), a development that did not work as well as I suspect was intended. Thankfully, this film-within-a-film technique lessens as the series goes on, and there’s much more old-fashioned storytelling to the final three episodes than was in the first three.
So long as you’re able to keep that straight, MARS excels at doing what it set out to do, giving you a picture of the true risks associated with space travel and planetary colonization.
MARS (2016) is produced by Imagine Entertainment, Radical Media, and Zak Productions. DVD distribution is being handled via the National Geographic label. As for the technical specifications? The series is smartly put together, and you can expect the highest quality sights and sounds consistently throughout. And if you’re looking for special features? As commonly happens with these extras and documentary-style productions, you end up getting a fair amount of material repeated from the episodes but expanded upon as the editors aren’t constricted by “telling a story”; it’s great to have these longer segments, but I’m not sure all that much was learned by it. Several of them feel like they’re more advertising material than anything else. However, there is a great short film in here that more finely explores the twin characters (both adults played by actress Jihae in the show), giving greater substance to one of the program’s pivotal relationships as seen through the eyes of a younger actress. Its biggest plus? It’s the kind of story that can be watched independently yet still manages to evoke the sense of wonder inherent in the original series. Well done!
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. Though I’m offering up exceedingly high praise for MARS (2016), this is not to say that this was the “easiest” way to follow this story; the first few episodes heavily employ a mixed narration (story + faux documentary + real documentary) which entirely fragments those early events to the occasional point of confusion. As the show goes on (by third hour or so), the bits and pieces of the faux documentary trim down to the point wherein one might even question whether they were truly needed in the first place. But the story involving mankind’s attempt at bringing life to Mars is probably as realistic and compelling as one would expect with a major motion picture, so kudos to all involved in making this look at the Red Planet one worth the investment.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at ThinkJam provided me with a Blu-ray of MARS (2016) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. Though I’m offering up exceedingly high praise for MARS (2016), this is not to say that this was the “easiest” way to follow this story; the first few episodes heavily employ a mixed narration (story + faux documentary + real documentary) which entirely fragments those early events to the occasional point of confusion. As the show goes on (by third hour or so), the bits and pieces of the faux documentary trim down to the point wherein one might even question whether they were truly needed in the first place. But the story involving mankind’s attempt at bringing life to Mars is probably as realistic and compelling as one would expect with a major motion picture, so kudos to all involved in making this look at the Red Planet one worth the investment.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at ThinkJam provided me with a Blu-ray of MARS (2016) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
- Published on
- Published on
From time to time, I’ve found it helpful to remind both long-term and casual readers and acquaintances about my thoughts on the nature of blogging, especially when blogging critically about the wide, wide world of entertainment. (For the uninformed, I use the word “critically” to imply “as a critic” and not “as something I dislike or am critical of.”)
As fans of All Things SciFi, we all have something to say about our favorite shows, our beloved actors and actresses, and even individual episodes or stories that may touch, confound, or even infuriate us. As I’ve said many times in these pages (and practically at every opportunity I get), I’m no fan of actor Matt Damon: this doesn’t mean I’m automatically predisposed to hate his work but instead it means I’m probably not going to “get around” to his projects as quickly as I am other talent whom I also follow. (Confession time: I’ve never seen We Bought A Zoo, nor will I, so you can make peace with that right now.) There’s nothing wrong with Matt as an actor; I happen to disagree with society and don’t find him a particularly compelling Thespian. And when I suspect that many other actors can accomplish the same thing he did with a particular role, then I often diverge from the mainstream and strike out my own opinion on other elements of a project, employing the Golden Rule to always find something positive to say about it.
Simply put, it works like this:
I think Captain Kirk was the better leader, and I’d follow him anywhere. (Yes, even if I wore a red shirt!) He inspired confidence with his bravado, and he was never afraid to mix it up physically when and if the situation required it. To me, Picard (by contrast) was simply too stuffy, a perfectionist shackled by stories requiring a ‘manager’ more than a leader. Kirk’s tales legitimately ‘explored strange new worlds,’ while Picard’s presented ‘the problem of the week’ that his committee would discuss, hash out, and reach a consensus around the best course of action. As characters, both are products of their respective generations, and I guess I more closely align psychologically to former than I do the latter.
Now, I am neither right nor wrong because mine is only my opinion. And because it’s only an opinion, you’re free to disagree with it all you like. Heck, I often encourage readers to do so, especially on these pages, as that helps make me a better thinker as I get to digest some input other than my own. (Never let it be said that blogging can’t be a respectable community effort.)
However, because you may find a certain program near perfection doesn’t automatically translate that I should much less that anyone should. The nature of storytelling is that it connects with each of us on some individual level, and for that reason what it means to you isn’t necessarily what it means to anyone else. This doesn’t even imply that the program might be flawed in any regard; it just means that so far as this guy is concerned it failed to break through to the point that I feel I have anything further to say. I don’t wish it ill; I don’t wish it canceled; but nor am I going to wish I felt what you did. That’s impossible as I’m not you, you have enough walking to do in your own two shoes, and this big ol’ Blue Marble is big enough for us to have two different opinions.
As fans of All Things SciFi, we all have something to say about our favorite shows, our beloved actors and actresses, and even individual episodes or stories that may touch, confound, or even infuriate us. As I’ve said many times in these pages (and practically at every opportunity I get), I’m no fan of actor Matt Damon: this doesn’t mean I’m automatically predisposed to hate his work but instead it means I’m probably not going to “get around” to his projects as quickly as I am other talent whom I also follow. (Confession time: I’ve never seen We Bought A Zoo, nor will I, so you can make peace with that right now.) There’s nothing wrong with Matt as an actor; I happen to disagree with society and don’t find him a particularly compelling Thespian. And when I suspect that many other actors can accomplish the same thing he did with a particular role, then I often diverge from the mainstream and strike out my own opinion on other elements of a project, employing the Golden Rule to always find something positive to say about it.
Simply put, it works like this:
I think Captain Kirk was the better leader, and I’d follow him anywhere. (Yes, even if I wore a red shirt!) He inspired confidence with his bravado, and he was never afraid to mix it up physically when and if the situation required it. To me, Picard (by contrast) was simply too stuffy, a perfectionist shackled by stories requiring a ‘manager’ more than a leader. Kirk’s tales legitimately ‘explored strange new worlds,’ while Picard’s presented ‘the problem of the week’ that his committee would discuss, hash out, and reach a consensus around the best course of action. As characters, both are products of their respective generations, and I guess I more closely align psychologically to former than I do the latter.
Now, I am neither right nor wrong because mine is only my opinion. And because it’s only an opinion, you’re free to disagree with it all you like. Heck, I often encourage readers to do so, especially on these pages, as that helps make me a better thinker as I get to digest some input other than my own. (Never let it be said that blogging can’t be a respectable community effort.)
However, because you may find a certain program near perfection doesn’t automatically translate that I should much less that anyone should. The nature of storytelling is that it connects with each of us on some individual level, and for that reason what it means to you isn’t necessarily what it means to anyone else. This doesn’t even imply that the program might be flawed in any regard; it just means that so far as this guy is concerned it failed to break through to the point that I feel I have anything further to say. I don’t wish it ill; I don’t wish it canceled; but nor am I going to wish I felt what you did. That’s impossible as I’m not you, you have enough walking to do in your own two shoes, and this big ol’ Blue Marble is big enough for us to have two different opinions.
Here’s the thing, folks: being a fan doesn’t mean always agreeing with what a franchise says, does, or means.
A good show can have a bad episode just as easily as an inferior program can produce moments of sheer, unadulterated brilliance. A great actor can give an awful performance (again: Matt Damon) just as possibly as a mediocre player can steal a scene without a moment’s notice. That is the very nature of art and how it connects: one never knows from where greatness comes, but it’s incumbent upon each and every one of us to champion it when and where we find it. And responsible critics will take a few extra words to even tell you “why” something might just be worth your time.
Largely, that’s what I do here on the pages of SciFiHistory.Net or on my Twitter feed or in my life-at-large: I cheer what I believe deserves my cheer. Nothing more, nothing less.
So don’t be put off if in my travels or our shared discourse when perhaps I don’t cheer for your favorites as they simply might not be mine. Doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to an opinion on them. Doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to sound off on them. Doesn’t mean I hope they fail ‘cause that I rarely do. My take has always been “the more SciFi and Fantasy out there, the merrier we all are,” and it probably always will be.
One could argue that blind allegiance to any particular property is exactly what brought us epic storytelling failures (my term, not yours) like Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, a sentiment some would happily apply to the entire Star Wars Prequel Trilogy. (My two cents? Each of the pictures had something of merit or told me something just interesting enough about that universe for me to forgive it, though I’ll admit I haven’t been able to stomach a second viewing of Star Trek: Nemesis or Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens as they both disappointed me too greatly.) I don’t always actively think about what I’m watching, but I do try to think about them so that I’m not blind to performances, morals, or themes ‘cause that’s just the way I’m wired.
A good show can have a bad episode just as easily as an inferior program can produce moments of sheer, unadulterated brilliance. A great actor can give an awful performance (again: Matt Damon) just as possibly as a mediocre player can steal a scene without a moment’s notice. That is the very nature of art and how it connects: one never knows from where greatness comes, but it’s incumbent upon each and every one of us to champion it when and where we find it. And responsible critics will take a few extra words to even tell you “why” something might just be worth your time.
Largely, that’s what I do here on the pages of SciFiHistory.Net or on my Twitter feed or in my life-at-large: I cheer what I believe deserves my cheer. Nothing more, nothing less.
So don’t be put off if in my travels or our shared discourse when perhaps I don’t cheer for your favorites as they simply might not be mine. Doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to an opinion on them. Doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to sound off on them. Doesn’t mean I hope they fail ‘cause that I rarely do. My take has always been “the more SciFi and Fantasy out there, the merrier we all are,” and it probably always will be.
One could argue that blind allegiance to any particular property is exactly what brought us epic storytelling failures (my term, not yours) like Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, a sentiment some would happily apply to the entire Star Wars Prequel Trilogy. (My two cents? Each of the pictures had something of merit or told me something just interesting enough about that universe for me to forgive it, though I’ll admit I haven’t been able to stomach a second viewing of Star Trek: Nemesis or Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens as they both disappointed me too greatly.) I don’t always actively think about what I’m watching, but I do try to think about them so that I’m not blind to performances, morals, or themes ‘cause that’s just the way I’m wired.
- Published on
The more I watch USA Network’s alien invasion drama Colony the more convinced I grow that longtime television producer Carlton Cuse learned nothing from the debacle he engineered better known as ABC TV’s Lost. And LOST it was!
For those caught unaware, let me explain: those island castaways second only in pop cultural relevance to Gilligan and his friends are Jack, Sawyer, Kate, and a veritable Greek tragedy of others and extras, and TV audiences were captivated with their collective adventures for most of six mystery-fueled seasons. Though Lost was created by JJ Abrams, Jeffrey Lieber, and the creatively-challenged Damon Lindelof, I’ve been led to understand that it was Cuse and Lindelof who were its central storytellers up through the program’s controversial finish. Both men have strongly dismissed any hullabaloo over that ending, claiming that it was never the countless unsolved mysteries spread across the show’s 121 episodes that interested the viewers but instead was its ‘characters.’ In their humble estimation (and I’m paraphrasing): “You didn’t care about what Kate knew and when she knew it; you cared about Kate.”
Ahem.
Sadly, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to diagnose that all of those unfortunate souls were going to end up dead in Lost’s big finish (we can split hairs all you like, but “dead is dead” when you’re waiting for your friends to show up in whatever Heavenly ‘construct’ you’ve gathered in the Afterlife to share); and die-hard fans were understandably infuriated. Of course, the fact that both Cuse and Lindelof had spent the better part of those six seasons denying that Lost would all wrap up with these characters we cared (oh!) so much about being deceased didn’t help matters much, but even today they persist with a petulant “it’s not me, it’s you” attitude if and when the subject comes up. (This isn’t a reflection upon the quality of the finale, though I’ll admit to being disappointed; it’s only meant as a response upon how that franchise ended so far as its showrunners and fandom matter.)
A season or two after Lost, Cuse found critical success again with Bates Motel on the A&E Network. Meant to be a kinda/sorta prequel to Alfred Hitchcock’s seminal Psycho (1960), Bates focused on the dangerously out-of-the-norm relationship between whacky young Norman and his wackier mother Norma. My wife and I hung with the show long enough to realize that Cuse and his merry band of writers gave the lovely and idyllic White Pine Bay – the show’s fictional setting – more behind-the-scenes skullduggery than you’d find in a typical block of Tiajuana. Our two cents? You remove what made the original Psycho special when you populate its backdrop with an entire citizenry capable of the Norma/Norman dynamic, and that just didn’t interest us.
For those caught unaware, let me explain: those island castaways second only in pop cultural relevance to Gilligan and his friends are Jack, Sawyer, Kate, and a veritable Greek tragedy of others and extras, and TV audiences were captivated with their collective adventures for most of six mystery-fueled seasons. Though Lost was created by JJ Abrams, Jeffrey Lieber, and the creatively-challenged Damon Lindelof, I’ve been led to understand that it was Cuse and Lindelof who were its central storytellers up through the program’s controversial finish. Both men have strongly dismissed any hullabaloo over that ending, claiming that it was never the countless unsolved mysteries spread across the show’s 121 episodes that interested the viewers but instead was its ‘characters.’ In their humble estimation (and I’m paraphrasing): “You didn’t care about what Kate knew and when she knew it; you cared about Kate.”
Ahem.
Sadly, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to diagnose that all of those unfortunate souls were going to end up dead in Lost’s big finish (we can split hairs all you like, but “dead is dead” when you’re waiting for your friends to show up in whatever Heavenly ‘construct’ you’ve gathered in the Afterlife to share); and die-hard fans were understandably infuriated. Of course, the fact that both Cuse and Lindelof had spent the better part of those six seasons denying that Lost would all wrap up with these characters we cared (oh!) so much about being deceased didn’t help matters much, but even today they persist with a petulant “it’s not me, it’s you” attitude if and when the subject comes up. (This isn’t a reflection upon the quality of the finale, though I’ll admit to being disappointed; it’s only meant as a response upon how that franchise ended so far as its showrunners and fandom matter.)
A season or two after Lost, Cuse found critical success again with Bates Motel on the A&E Network. Meant to be a kinda/sorta prequel to Alfred Hitchcock’s seminal Psycho (1960), Bates focused on the dangerously out-of-the-norm relationship between whacky young Norman and his wackier mother Norma. My wife and I hung with the show long enough to realize that Cuse and his merry band of writers gave the lovely and idyllic White Pine Bay – the show’s fictional setting – more behind-the-scenes skullduggery than you’d find in a typical block of Tiajuana. Our two cents? You remove what made the original Psycho special when you populate its backdrop with an entire citizenry capable of the Norma/Norman dynamic, and that just didn’t interest us.
These days, Cuse can be found in the realm of Colony; and – so far as Seasons 1 and 2 are concerned – he’s back to his usual antics so aptly demonstrated with Lost: audiences are treated to an alien invasion that never shows its aliens, never divulges who they are or why they came, and never truly hints at what’s up.
Along for the ride is a talented cast, and that helps make the occasionally mushy meal go down a bit easier. Josh Holloway leads as the hunky Will Bowman, a former soldier who briefly finds a job amongst the ruling elite only to use it for his own purposes. Fresh from The Walking Dead Sarah Wayne Callies shines as his wife, Katie, who fights to keep her identity as a member of Earth’s resistance from her family. TV staples like Amanda Righetti, Adrian Pasdar, and Ally Walker fill out supporting roles, and each one of them acts with varying degrees of deceit largely for no purpose other than staying alive. The real breakout (so far as this watcher is concerned) is Peter Jacobson; his constantly duplicitous Alan Snyder keeps finding ways to make others trust him even though he’s arguably the entire casts’ worst enemy. His is a great centerpiece around which all else good or bad intersects; whether that was creatively intended matters not when its delivered so winningly by Jacobson.
Like most first seasons, Colony spent a great deal of time introducing these characters and what remains of our world: major cities have been walled off by the aliens (presumably), and their citizens have been separated into different classes. Some folks share in leadership roles, some are black-garbed soldiers enforcing alien decree, while others are left to carve out a life for themselves with what remains. Still others have vanished to a secret location known only as ‘The Factory’; it’s unclear what purpose the place serves, exactly where it is, and whether it produces anything … though with a name like ‘The Factory’ I’m suspecting it isn’t iPhones. Largely, day-to-day civilization is made up of different resistance cells, none of which appear to have any defined purpose much less a willingness to cooperate with one another. Frankly, it’s all a bit nebulous, and I suppose that’s by design.
Still, that first roster of episodes gave Will Bowman a singular resolution: keep the family safe.
Along for the ride is a talented cast, and that helps make the occasionally mushy meal go down a bit easier. Josh Holloway leads as the hunky Will Bowman, a former soldier who briefly finds a job amongst the ruling elite only to use it for his own purposes. Fresh from The Walking Dead Sarah Wayne Callies shines as his wife, Katie, who fights to keep her identity as a member of Earth’s resistance from her family. TV staples like Amanda Righetti, Adrian Pasdar, and Ally Walker fill out supporting roles, and each one of them acts with varying degrees of deceit largely for no purpose other than staying alive. The real breakout (so far as this watcher is concerned) is Peter Jacobson; his constantly duplicitous Alan Snyder keeps finding ways to make others trust him even though he’s arguably the entire casts’ worst enemy. His is a great centerpiece around which all else good or bad intersects; whether that was creatively intended matters not when its delivered so winningly by Jacobson.
Like most first seasons, Colony spent a great deal of time introducing these characters and what remains of our world: major cities have been walled off by the aliens (presumably), and their citizens have been separated into different classes. Some folks share in leadership roles, some are black-garbed soldiers enforcing alien decree, while others are left to carve out a life for themselves with what remains. Still others have vanished to a secret location known only as ‘The Factory’; it’s unclear what purpose the place serves, exactly where it is, and whether it produces anything … though with a name like ‘The Factory’ I’m suspecting it isn’t iPhones. Largely, day-to-day civilization is made up of different resistance cells, none of which appear to have any defined purpose much less a willingness to cooperate with one another. Frankly, it’s all a bit nebulous, and I suppose that’s by design.
Still, that first roster of episodes gave Will Bowman a singular resolution: keep the family safe.
This simplicity of purpose boiled over into Colony’s second season, one which saw Bowman secreted beyond the city walls to finally find his son Charlie who’d been missing since the Occupation began. That dedication to purpose paid off in what I think have been the program’s best hours: young actor Jacob Buster turned in a great performance as Charlie, a young soul damaged by the savage life he’d led. Seeing his son reduced to little more than animal instincts forced Will to “even the scales” with the street thug who robbed the boy of his childhood. The family was eventually reunited, even if only for brief happiness; sadly, the second half of the season saw Will and company on-the-run, with few allies, and almost directionless except for food, water, and shelter.
Much like Lost, Colony suffers greatly from its preponderance with mystery. Each successive episode seems content to add yet one more layer to a story already dense enough for ten onions. Nothing is ever given quite clear definition, and – by doing so – lines are blurred by a seemingly endless array of guest characters who come in and go out the show’s revolving fantasy door. These faces serve no real purpose, none other than what they accomplish briefly on screen; and then they vanish into the ether (or until they’re resurrected a broadcast hour or two later). As I said above, who these aliens are much less what they want has never been discussed in any depth nor even hinted at; you’d think that these characters would occasionally question one another about their shared circumstance, but instead they’ve apparently accepted their lot in life (or in this week’s script) and simply go about the task at hand. Much like the audience, they’re expected to suspend disbelief all for the sake of playing along.
Much like Lost, Colony only grows more confusing, the end result of piling mystery upon mystery upon mystery. And, like bad magicians, Cuse and his stable of writers ask the audience to watch “over here” as nothing of substance (i.e. plot development) is really going on “over there.” Instead, it looks like they’re crafting yet one more show where viewers are supposed to care more about characters than you are what’s really the point of it all; and I can’t help but wonder what cards they’re left to play with Season Three. (In case you missed it, it was recently reported that production for next year’s episodes is shifting from California to Vancouver; I suspect some talent might depart in the process, and that may not bode well for its future.)
Much like Lost, Colony suffers greatly from its preponderance with mystery. Each successive episode seems content to add yet one more layer to a story already dense enough for ten onions. Nothing is ever given quite clear definition, and – by doing so – lines are blurred by a seemingly endless array of guest characters who come in and go out the show’s revolving fantasy door. These faces serve no real purpose, none other than what they accomplish briefly on screen; and then they vanish into the ether (or until they’re resurrected a broadcast hour or two later). As I said above, who these aliens are much less what they want has never been discussed in any depth nor even hinted at; you’d think that these characters would occasionally question one another about their shared circumstance, but instead they’ve apparently accepted their lot in life (or in this week’s script) and simply go about the task at hand. Much like the audience, they’re expected to suspend disbelief all for the sake of playing along.
Much like Lost, Colony only grows more confusing, the end result of piling mystery upon mystery upon mystery. And, like bad magicians, Cuse and his stable of writers ask the audience to watch “over here” as nothing of substance (i.e. plot development) is really going on “over there.” Instead, it looks like they’re crafting yet one more show where viewers are supposed to care more about characters than you are what’s really the point of it all; and I can’t help but wonder what cards they’re left to play with Season Three. (In case you missed it, it was recently reported that production for next year’s episodes is shifting from California to Vancouver; I suspect some talent might depart in the process, and that may not bode well for its future.)
Now, let me be perfectly blunt on one point: Colony is not a bad show, per se. As I said, the cast is talented and likable. The production qualities remain high enough to keep a respectable spot on the television dial. Though its overall mythology has grown more and more muddled, I hold out hope that its central premise – that of a family in conflict merely trying to survive against increasing odds – will always stay relevant. (Heck, it was good enough for Lost In Space’s Robinsons clan, and it even made The Brady Bunch interesting at times.) That dynamic has worked for hundreds of shows so long as the Boob Tube has been around.
But at some point, answers are deserved … a sentiment perhaps “lost” on the likes of Carlton Cuse.
But at some point, answers are deserved … a sentiment perhaps “lost” on the likes of Carlton Cuse.