- Published on
Folks, without blowing my own horn, I do like to point out when I diverge from fandom's opinions in general.
Today's exhibit: 2008's The X-Files: I Want To Believe.
Released on this day back then, the film was a vastly lower-budgeted affair than was its predecessor (1998's The X-Files aka The X-Files: Fight The Future) with a vastly less mythology-driven caper that brought former FBI Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully back into the government circle for a very specific and grisly abduction. According to a Google.com search, the project grossed under $70 million from the global box office -- on a budget reportedly of $30 million -- but it mostly failed in its mission to re-ignite the franchise by whetting the appetite of fans to demand more X.
Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) worked at the F.B.I. as partners, a bond between them that led to them becoming lovers. But now they're out of the F.B.I. and have begun new careers. Scully works as a staff physician at a Catholic hospital. Her focus these days is on a young boy with an incurable brain disease. Administration wants to give up on him. Scully, who feels a special bond with the boy, does not. Meanwhile, Mulder's focus is on clipping newspaper articles, throwing pencils into his ceiling and writing about the paranormal. Scully and Mulder are brought together as partners again when a special case requires Mulder's expertise, and Scully is prevailed upon to convince him to help. The case involves a pedophile priest who claims he is having psychic visions regarding the whereabouts of a missing F.B.I. Agent."
Today's exhibit: 2008's The X-Files: I Want To Believe.
Released on this day back then, the film was a vastly lower-budgeted affair than was its predecessor (1998's The X-Files aka The X-Files: Fight The Future) with a vastly less mythology-driven caper that brought former FBI Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully back into the government circle for a very specific and grisly abduction. According to a Google.com search, the project grossed under $70 million from the global box office -- on a budget reportedly of $30 million -- but it mostly failed in its mission to re-ignite the franchise by whetting the appetite of fans to demand more X.
Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) worked at the F.B.I. as partners, a bond between them that led to them becoming lovers. But now they're out of the F.B.I. and have begun new careers. Scully works as a staff physician at a Catholic hospital. Her focus these days is on a young boy with an incurable brain disease. Administration wants to give up on him. Scully, who feels a special bond with the boy, does not. Meanwhile, Mulder's focus is on clipping newspaper articles, throwing pencils into his ceiling and writing about the paranormal. Scully and Mulder are brought together as partners again when a special case requires Mulder's expertise, and Scully is prevailed upon to convince him to help. The case involves a pedophile priest who claims he is having psychic visions regarding the whereabouts of a missing F.B.I. Agent."
While a case could be made that the series which ran from 1993 through 2013 (with ample time-off in between those dates) earned the largest percentage of its reputation exploring the idea of life out there interacting in some way with life down here (on Earth), I still insist to those who listen that the procedural was still at its very best when it stuck to the 'Monster Of The Week' format. Be it vampires, werewolves, psychics, clones, or any number of fringe antagonists, X very uniquely presented real world people who found themselves in extraordinary circumstances; and -- in this structure -- Agents Mulder and Scully were allowed to do their thing, mainly chatting through any number of possibilities to confirm or deny the existence of something ... something ... well ... freaky. Yes, it's equally acceptable to champion those countless hours exploring the show's central mythology; but -- for me -- I was usually more invested with tales that colored outside of those somewhat predictable lines.
After all, they were never going to prove we weren't alone ... were they?
That's why I'll always defend 2008's I Want To Believe. It turned left when audiences and fans probably expected it to turn right, showing us the eventual strain on our beloved duo's relationship might eventually produce the resulting fracture. As much as some always wanted the pair to 'get together' (and they did), the 2008 feature showed that true love within their unique circumstances might not be enough to lead to any 'happily ever after' construct. While they may've reached a personal and professional compromise, threads were forever destined to pull them in other directions.
After all, they were never going to prove we weren't alone ... were they?
That's why I'll always defend 2008's I Want To Believe. It turned left when audiences and fans probably expected it to turn right, showing us the eventual strain on our beloved duo's relationship might eventually produce the resulting fracture. As much as some always wanted the pair to 'get together' (and they did), the 2008 feature showed that true love within their unique circumstances might not be enough to lead to any 'happily ever after' construct. While they may've reached a personal and professional compromise, threads were forever destined to pull them in other directions.
Furthermore, what really excited me was that -- yes -- they were back together -- back in the business of confronting a wonderful puzzle -- even though they weren't exactly part of the usual suspects. Their usual camaraderie was missing from the film's earlier moments -- that strain I spoke of briefly above -- and they had to find it again, not one-on-one but with a small(ish) cast of characters watching. It introduced a new dynamic into their relationship, testing these characters and the patience of their fans in ways that produced some solid dramatic moments. No, it wasn't anything bit -- like their first screen kiss or anything on that level -- but it gave these talented actors something new to confront; and I think it made for a better picture.
Also, I think Believe really set the stage for what could've, would've, and should've been a soft reboot for the franchise.
Instead of doing what the agents had done before on screens big and small, the X franchise was really at a crossroads. Their relationship had kinda/sorta run its course -- both as a couple and as government employees -- so spinning them off into new waters gave them a measure of independence they hadn't quite known before. Gone was the Higher Authority that either cooperated with them or secretly placed obstacles in their path; and in its place there was this almost macho sense of 'you came to us for us so stay out of our way' attitude. It kinda/sorta cast them in the mold of experts -- independent contractors, if you will, available as contract-for-hire to those with enough cash -- and that's what I think was an inspiration for an all-new direction.
Also, I think Believe really set the stage for what could've, would've, and should've been a soft reboot for the franchise.
Instead of doing what the agents had done before on screens big and small, the X franchise was really at a crossroads. Their relationship had kinda/sorta run its course -- both as a couple and as government employees -- so spinning them off into new waters gave them a measure of independence they hadn't quite known before. Gone was the Higher Authority that either cooperated with them or secretly placed obstacles in their path; and in its place there was this almost macho sense of 'you came to us for us so stay out of our way' attitude. It kinda/sorta cast them in the mold of experts -- independent contractors, if you will, available as contract-for-hire to those with enough cash -- and that's what I think was an inspiration for an all-new direction.
Imagine that the franchise at that point could've continued in a string of modestly budgeted adventures. Each story could've had its own premise, never being tied to anything that had been done before; and this could've allowed both Mulder and Scully to be -- as I said -- agents for hire. No, I'm not suggesting in any way that they should set up shop, formed their own LLC, and put up advertising on late-night television; but what I was (at the time) in favor of was seeing more of the intrepid couple being sought out as experts by any number of organizations, both foreign and domestic.
This newfound relationship might have even occasionally put them at odds with the Federal government in ways the show handled mostly with kid gloves. As an example, suppose a UFO crashed in South America, and foreign powers came to Mulder asking for him to assist in its recovery. He could've gone on his own -- leaving Scully behind -- and then, perhaps, something goes horribly awry in the other nation. After being warning by the U.S. government not to intervene, Scully then goes rogue (or a sort), hopping the next plane to the foreign land to find her lost partner. All of this inevitably could bring the reunited pair in conflict once again with the U.S. on foreign soil; and that, too, could've pushed the door open for some other curious event.
My point is -- ahem -- not to suggest that I should be penning these stories. (I do write, I have written, but that is far from the point.) Rather, it's that I think Believe introduced a great springboard from which X could've truly re-invented itself for the cineplexes; and I'm sad that never quite happened.
This newfound relationship might have even occasionally put them at odds with the Federal government in ways the show handled mostly with kid gloves. As an example, suppose a UFO crashed in South America, and foreign powers came to Mulder asking for him to assist in its recovery. He could've gone on his own -- leaving Scully behind -- and then, perhaps, something goes horribly awry in the other nation. After being warning by the U.S. government not to intervene, Scully then goes rogue (or a sort), hopping the next plane to the foreign land to find her lost partner. All of this inevitably could bring the reunited pair in conflict once again with the U.S. on foreign soil; and that, too, could've pushed the door open for some other curious event.
My point is -- ahem -- not to suggest that I should be penning these stories. (I do write, I have written, but that is far from the point.) Rather, it's that I think Believe introduced a great springboard from which X could've truly re-invented itself for the cineplexes; and I'm sad that never quite happened.
As a standalone feature, the 2008 film works adequately. Mulder and Scully are given a tension they explore. While it's certainly never intrinsic to the main plot, the actors made the most of this smaller, quieter, even gentler affair; and they did so with some new faces added to the mix along with a familiar one popping in here and there. The central scope stayed relatively small -- I say that compared to their previous theatrical outing as well as what the show accomplished in its popular serial format -- and the downside was that -- ahem -- one might suggest this didn't even need to be a Mulder/Scully production. While it was great to see them together again, the narrow scope seemed to leave fans a bit -- ahem -- disenfranchised; and this title has all but disappeared as a talking point.
X did return to the small screen a few years later; and that, too, was occasionally good but sparingly in my estimation. Putting the wheels back for a weekly go-round -- even though these were vastly shorter seasons -- made the experience feel a bit like a cash grab more than it was an authentic attempt to spin new yarns in the conspiratorial network. A once tentpole genre franchise is now mostly dark, and that's sad ... especially given the modest promise Believe offered when it had a slim chance.
X did return to the small screen a few years later; and that, too, was occasionally good but sparingly in my estimation. Putting the wheels back for a weekly go-round -- even though these were vastly shorter seasons -- made the experience feel a bit like a cash grab more than it was an authentic attempt to spin new yarns in the conspiratorial network. A once tentpole genre franchise is now mostly dark, and that's sad ... especially given the modest promise Believe offered when it had a slim chance.
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks even more for sharing ... thanks even more for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
It goes without saying that no one likes to be the bearer of bad news.
What’s worse?
Well, the only thing I can think of immediately is being the recipient of some bad news; but when you get in the business of trying to both talk about entertainment and critique it against the backdrop of history, you have to be willing to ‘man up’ and deliver the good, the bad, and the ugly.
In part, that’s all I was trying to do yesterday when I talked about the death of good storytelling in the greater Star Wars Universe. Looking back, I didn’t think then – nor do I think now – that I said anything remotely controversial. In fact, I’ve always tried to approach presenting my perspective with a whole lot of common sense woven in there between the nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Like it or not, it might’ve stirred to the pot a bit too heartily for some, mostly because I received some feedback suggesting that I said “Star Wars is dead.”
Again, I never said that exactly, but let me take a moment to clear up any confusion I may’ve inadvertently created:
“Star Wars – as we once knew it – is dead.”
In fact, I think that’s an accepted consensus amongst the hardest of the hard-core Star Wars fans: it wasn’t but just last week that Film Threat’s Chris Gore and his merry band of collaborators hosted the online event titled “Funeral For A Franchise.” For those of you who missed it – shame on you – it was largely a long wake coordinated by Gore that highlighted a great many reasons why that galaxy far, far away has slipped further and further from our cultural collective consciousness. Unlike other online content creators, Film Threat delivered an event that was as thoughtful as it was satirically tinged. While one could’ve come away feeling differently about the State of The Empire, I thought that there was still no denying that what Star Wars has become under Lucasfilm’s Second Reich is a far cry from the whimsical, fantastical fairy tale that inspired a generation (or two) of consumers in ways the Walt Disney Company can (arguably) never recapture.
Now, I’m surprised that this is something I’d ever find myself clarifying, frankly.
While what I wrote yesterday was never intended to insult anyone who still invests time and money in the Outer Rim territories, I’m astonished how audiences can look at Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope and find legitimate thematic comparisons to Andor, Ahsoka, or The Acolyte.
Andor – a good Fantasy/Drama in its own right – hinges very heavily on understanding the political structure of the franchise George Lucas created. It coopted some of the original’s ideas and gave them new life by introducing political comparisons to our modern era. So, yes, it’s an adult excursion within this intergalactic fairy tale; and, yes, I get why some like it. But … for me? It feels more like that newfangled Battlestar Galactica than it does something Luke, Han, and Leia would fit easily into, and I’ve no plans to watch its second season at this point.
In minor ways, Ahsoka hinted strongly in small pieces like it wanted to be something very much ‘in the tradition of’ what Lucas did. Sadly, the show’s pacing was horrific, gravitating between painful instances of characters standing around waiting for something to spur them into action instead of the plot organically doing that all on its own. I guess those who dabble in the Expanded Universe may’ve found more to like in it than I did, but – again – the narrative inconsistency bored me to tears.
Basically, this brings us to The Acolyte, a program that – if ratings data is accurate – quite possibly lost more of its audience than the franchise ever really gained. For clarity’s sake, no, I didn’t watch it – had no interest, honestly – but I followed the plot points via online blogging and vlogging. I don’t feel I missed anything; and I’m quite certain that – given what I’ve heard about it – it wouldn’t have changed my mind about the current dire predicament some Star Wars fans find themselves in today.
What’s worse?
Well, the only thing I can think of immediately is being the recipient of some bad news; but when you get in the business of trying to both talk about entertainment and critique it against the backdrop of history, you have to be willing to ‘man up’ and deliver the good, the bad, and the ugly.
In part, that’s all I was trying to do yesterday when I talked about the death of good storytelling in the greater Star Wars Universe. Looking back, I didn’t think then – nor do I think now – that I said anything remotely controversial. In fact, I’ve always tried to approach presenting my perspective with a whole lot of common sense woven in there between the nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Like it or not, it might’ve stirred to the pot a bit too heartily for some, mostly because I received some feedback suggesting that I said “Star Wars is dead.”
Again, I never said that exactly, but let me take a moment to clear up any confusion I may’ve inadvertently created:
“Star Wars – as we once knew it – is dead.”
In fact, I think that’s an accepted consensus amongst the hardest of the hard-core Star Wars fans: it wasn’t but just last week that Film Threat’s Chris Gore and his merry band of collaborators hosted the online event titled “Funeral For A Franchise.” For those of you who missed it – shame on you – it was largely a long wake coordinated by Gore that highlighted a great many reasons why that galaxy far, far away has slipped further and further from our cultural collective consciousness. Unlike other online content creators, Film Threat delivered an event that was as thoughtful as it was satirically tinged. While one could’ve come away feeling differently about the State of The Empire, I thought that there was still no denying that what Star Wars has become under Lucasfilm’s Second Reich is a far cry from the whimsical, fantastical fairy tale that inspired a generation (or two) of consumers in ways the Walt Disney Company can (arguably) never recapture.
Now, I’m surprised that this is something I’d ever find myself clarifying, frankly.
While what I wrote yesterday was never intended to insult anyone who still invests time and money in the Outer Rim territories, I’m astonished how audiences can look at Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope and find legitimate thematic comparisons to Andor, Ahsoka, or The Acolyte.
Andor – a good Fantasy/Drama in its own right – hinges very heavily on understanding the political structure of the franchise George Lucas created. It coopted some of the original’s ideas and gave them new life by introducing political comparisons to our modern era. So, yes, it’s an adult excursion within this intergalactic fairy tale; and, yes, I get why some like it. But … for me? It feels more like that newfangled Battlestar Galactica than it does something Luke, Han, and Leia would fit easily into, and I’ve no plans to watch its second season at this point.
In minor ways, Ahsoka hinted strongly in small pieces like it wanted to be something very much ‘in the tradition of’ what Lucas did. Sadly, the show’s pacing was horrific, gravitating between painful instances of characters standing around waiting for something to spur them into action instead of the plot organically doing that all on its own. I guess those who dabble in the Expanded Universe may’ve found more to like in it than I did, but – again – the narrative inconsistency bored me to tears.
Basically, this brings us to The Acolyte, a program that – if ratings data is accurate – quite possibly lost more of its audience than the franchise ever really gained. For clarity’s sake, no, I didn’t watch it – had no interest, honestly – but I followed the plot points via online blogging and vlogging. I don’t feel I missed anything; and I’m quite certain that – given what I’ve heard about it – it wouldn’t have changed my mind about the current dire predicament some Star Wars fans find themselves in today.
If you’re wondering, then, why I felt it necessary to offer up today’s clarification, it’s only because I heard from a few in the readership suggesting that I was a bit harsh on the franchise. I don’t think I was – not even in the slightest – but responders did ask what I would do to fix the problem?
Well … how do you bring anything back from the dead, folks?
Okay, okay, okay … yeah, maybe that was harsh. Forgive me for that – no, I’m not deleting the line because it’s relevant – and let me offer up something perhaps a tad more constructive.
Part of the challenge, I think, that Lucasfilm – under the Walt Disney Company – has is that they’re in the business of turning out products and not stories. Yes, yes, and yes: the corporation has given us some wonderful films over the years – and they may yet again one day – but if the powers that be cannot see how ‘Star Wars’ and ‘Disney Stars Wars’ differ even only on the thematic level then what good is expending any effort trying to concoct a plan? I could be wrong here, but if The Acolyte had massive ratings even with its storytelling flaws do you honestly believe they’d think twice about doing anything differently? George Lucas – by contrast – always said he was telling the stories he wanted to tell; Kathleen Kennedy – Lucasfilm’s current head – appears to have no interest in telling stories so much as she does pushing propaganda. Those are two vastly dissimilar starting points, and I’m not certain they can exist in the same creation of mythologies.
So the only problem they see is that (A) the films are underperforming financially and (B) the television series are underperforming as selling points for Disney+. What this tells me is that the company is okay spending, say, $1 billion to make a new flick so long as it grosses, say, $3 or $5 or $7 billion at the box office. Things like story, characters, plot, etc. don’t factor into that equation, not in any negligible way. Similarly, I suspect they’d be happy to spend $1 billion on a new Star Wars streaming show so long as it netted them 3 or 5 or 7 billion new subscribers. Once more, the things I want to know more about – story, characters, plot, etc. – are inconsequential. Because apparently only profit matters in their corner of existence, how do I fix corrupted narratives? In short, there is no fix if you don’t acknowledge the core deficiency, something few executives are ever interested in exploring.
All I can offer again is my query: “How do you bring back the dead?”
Now, I hold out hope that the circumstances might change.
In our hearts, I do think we’ve an optimistic people; and it’s in our nature to wish for things to be as good as they are green. No one wants to feel down and out when talking about any of our entertainment experiences, but even we need to be better about not giving swindlers more of what’s in our wallet when they care so little about the quality of the slop they dump in the trough. The best that Iger and Kennedy could do for now would be to shelve every Star Wars project in the pipeline and let the waters clear. Put some space between what they’ve done and what they could do, even if that means ultimately finding other intellectual properties to do something with in the meantime. If nothing else, a bit of a recess might help develop a greater hunger for whatever comes out next, and that alone might help lift even a middling effort out of the red and into the black.
I know, I know, I know … but what would you do?
There is no simple answer. If there were, then I suspect Disney or Lucasfilm would’ve already exploited it.
But … what I would do would be something a bit different, that’s for sure.
I’m an O.G. guy, and for me Star Wars has always been Luke, Han, Leia, Chewie, R2, and C-3PO. I’d bring them back in animated form with either a television show or smaller movie set after the events of Return Of The Jedi. It doesn’t have to be anything big and grand – though I’d not turn that down – but it does have to be a story worth watching, a chord they haven’t quite since acquiring the franchise from Lucas. Give us the further adventures of Luke Skywalker – a tagline that even the Jedi Master has used here and there – and put the band back together again. It was an opportunity that Lucasfilm deliberately avoided, and that single mistake told me everything about ‘Disney Star Wars’ that I needed to know in one fell swoop.
If you wanna recover from that?
Put the band back together.
And let them play.
-- EZ
Well … how do you bring anything back from the dead, folks?
Okay, okay, okay … yeah, maybe that was harsh. Forgive me for that – no, I’m not deleting the line because it’s relevant – and let me offer up something perhaps a tad more constructive.
Part of the challenge, I think, that Lucasfilm – under the Walt Disney Company – has is that they’re in the business of turning out products and not stories. Yes, yes, and yes: the corporation has given us some wonderful films over the years – and they may yet again one day – but if the powers that be cannot see how ‘Star Wars’ and ‘Disney Stars Wars’ differ even only on the thematic level then what good is expending any effort trying to concoct a plan? I could be wrong here, but if The Acolyte had massive ratings even with its storytelling flaws do you honestly believe they’d think twice about doing anything differently? George Lucas – by contrast – always said he was telling the stories he wanted to tell; Kathleen Kennedy – Lucasfilm’s current head – appears to have no interest in telling stories so much as she does pushing propaganda. Those are two vastly dissimilar starting points, and I’m not certain they can exist in the same creation of mythologies.
So the only problem they see is that (A) the films are underperforming financially and (B) the television series are underperforming as selling points for Disney+. What this tells me is that the company is okay spending, say, $1 billion to make a new flick so long as it grosses, say, $3 or $5 or $7 billion at the box office. Things like story, characters, plot, etc. don’t factor into that equation, not in any negligible way. Similarly, I suspect they’d be happy to spend $1 billion on a new Star Wars streaming show so long as it netted them 3 or 5 or 7 billion new subscribers. Once more, the things I want to know more about – story, characters, plot, etc. – are inconsequential. Because apparently only profit matters in their corner of existence, how do I fix corrupted narratives? In short, there is no fix if you don’t acknowledge the core deficiency, something few executives are ever interested in exploring.
All I can offer again is my query: “How do you bring back the dead?”
Now, I hold out hope that the circumstances might change.
In our hearts, I do think we’ve an optimistic people; and it’s in our nature to wish for things to be as good as they are green. No one wants to feel down and out when talking about any of our entertainment experiences, but even we need to be better about not giving swindlers more of what’s in our wallet when they care so little about the quality of the slop they dump in the trough. The best that Iger and Kennedy could do for now would be to shelve every Star Wars project in the pipeline and let the waters clear. Put some space between what they’ve done and what they could do, even if that means ultimately finding other intellectual properties to do something with in the meantime. If nothing else, a bit of a recess might help develop a greater hunger for whatever comes out next, and that alone might help lift even a middling effort out of the red and into the black.
I know, I know, I know … but what would you do?
There is no simple answer. If there were, then I suspect Disney or Lucasfilm would’ve already exploited it.
But … what I would do would be something a bit different, that’s for sure.
I’m an O.G. guy, and for me Star Wars has always been Luke, Han, Leia, Chewie, R2, and C-3PO. I’d bring them back in animated form with either a television show or smaller movie set after the events of Return Of The Jedi. It doesn’t have to be anything big and grand – though I’d not turn that down – but it does have to be a story worth watching, a chord they haven’t quite since acquiring the franchise from Lucas. Give us the further adventures of Luke Skywalker – a tagline that even the Jedi Master has used here and there – and put the band back together again. It was an opportunity that Lucasfilm deliberately avoided, and that single mistake told me everything about ‘Disney Star Wars’ that I needed to know in one fell swoop.
If you wanna recover from that?
Put the band back together.
And let them play.
-- EZ
- Published on
Hollywood used to be the place where ideas flourished.
Again, folks, it pains me to – ahem – “sound old.” Yes, like many, I’ve grown a bit long in the tooth over the past few decades writing about entertainment – mostly from the point of view of an online and self-styled critic but also as one who kinda/sorta respects cultural history – but that old axiom about there only being seven original stories gets proven true with each passing year. While creativity once was king, it’s increasingly difficult to see any inspiration in just about anything on screens big or small these days; and it’s indeed a dark day when even our beloved Star Wars franchise appears to have lost the luster that propelled audiences to that galaxy far, far away for so long.
“Is Star Wars dead?” many wonder.
Well …
Reality suggests that, yes, “It’s dead, Jim.”
Toys are not selling. Movies are underperforming. Disney+ streaming shows show alarming trends as viewers abandon ship for other pursuits. Franchise stars like Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison are begging fans to demand Lucasfilm write them blank checks for more seasons of digital programming audiences seem to have shunned. Storytellers like Rian Johnson and Patty Jenkins can’t seem to get stories off the ground … and, yet, there are those who would have you believe that all is good and green in the Outer Rim territories. You don’t have to be an industry analyst to see that the opposite is more likely true … that is unless you’ve been convinced otherwise by the mainstream media’s outright propaganda proclaiming that The Acolyte – the latest Disney+ attempt to redefine Star Wars for a new generation of devotees – is the best thing ever.
No, no, and no: this is not going to be a review of The Acolyte.
In fact, I cancelled my subscription to Disney+ the day after Star Wars: The Bad Batch finished. That Dave Filoni program started out interesting in its first season, developed modestly in its second, and I wanted solely to see how it all wrapped up in its finale. Its third and finale season was uneven, at best, feeling rushed in some places and vastly too predictable in others. Like some fans, I long ago believed that Filoni had, at least, good intentions with his perceived stewardship of the George Lucas creation, only then to be horrifically disappointed when he introduced covens, time travel, and intersectional feminism to the timeline. Gone was the sense of wonder; and – in its place – gender politics took root. I had hoped for a great finish to the Bad Batch, but it, too, let me down. Enough was enough, and I bowed out.
So, no, I’m not reviewing The Acolyte.
As an interested party, I did follow a good deal of the show’s reception and criticism, and I read assessments that were both positive and negative just so I could kinda/sorta keep up with what was going on. Without getting into specifics, I will say that I saw far more cogent arguments made by The Acolyte’s critics than I did by its supporters: when celebration appears predicated largely on whether or not we’ve seen something before, followers rather plainly ignore assessing whether or not a new character, planet, circumstance, or device was authentically needed in the first place. Starting from a supposition of “let’s make The Jedi the bad guys” might seem a novel concept to some, but it rather deliriously ignores the reality that The Jedi were canonically established by the previous owner as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy. None of this seemed to matter to Star Wars’ new fan contingent, and they embraced The Acolyte with Sith-like glee.
So … ? Ignoring a franchise’s tenets is now a good idea? A marketable brainstorm? Even a solid plan?
Folks, I’ve met people like this; and I’ve debated thinkers like this – as have many of you – for years. They’ve existed on the fringes of fandom, often times committing serious ink to their latest, greatest fantasies in hopes of landing a book deal or, at least, their own place in pantheon of fanfic gods. They’re the same people who once insisted that what Star Trek’s Starfleet needed was a Vic Mackey type, the fictional antihero of FX’s popular Crime/Drama The Shield. Mackey made being bad look good, and he did it for seven victim-filled seasons. (Important note: Mackey left victims wherever he tread, not survivors.) Well, these people finally got their way with 2013’s Star Trek Into Darkness; and how did that work out for the franchise? The script by Roberto Orci, Alex Kurtman, and Damon Lindelof upended the vastly superior treatment of similar material – namely Harve Bennett and Jack B. Sowards’ Star Trek: The Wrath Of Khan (1982) – by making Starfleet complicit with the bad guys and turning some of the franchise’s best original moments into little more than winks, nods, and groans. Into Darkness was a Bizarro creation where Spock yelled ‘Khan’ instead of Kirk, Kirk died instead of Spock, and the villainous Khan had the Federation’s blessing (of a sort) instead of its disdain.
Again, folks, it pains me to – ahem – “sound old.” Yes, like many, I’ve grown a bit long in the tooth over the past few decades writing about entertainment – mostly from the point of view of an online and self-styled critic but also as one who kinda/sorta respects cultural history – but that old axiom about there only being seven original stories gets proven true with each passing year. While creativity once was king, it’s increasingly difficult to see any inspiration in just about anything on screens big or small these days; and it’s indeed a dark day when even our beloved Star Wars franchise appears to have lost the luster that propelled audiences to that galaxy far, far away for so long.
“Is Star Wars dead?” many wonder.
Well …
Reality suggests that, yes, “It’s dead, Jim.”
Toys are not selling. Movies are underperforming. Disney+ streaming shows show alarming trends as viewers abandon ship for other pursuits. Franchise stars like Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison are begging fans to demand Lucasfilm write them blank checks for more seasons of digital programming audiences seem to have shunned. Storytellers like Rian Johnson and Patty Jenkins can’t seem to get stories off the ground … and, yet, there are those who would have you believe that all is good and green in the Outer Rim territories. You don’t have to be an industry analyst to see that the opposite is more likely true … that is unless you’ve been convinced otherwise by the mainstream media’s outright propaganda proclaiming that The Acolyte – the latest Disney+ attempt to redefine Star Wars for a new generation of devotees – is the best thing ever.
No, no, and no: this is not going to be a review of The Acolyte.
In fact, I cancelled my subscription to Disney+ the day after Star Wars: The Bad Batch finished. That Dave Filoni program started out interesting in its first season, developed modestly in its second, and I wanted solely to see how it all wrapped up in its finale. Its third and finale season was uneven, at best, feeling rushed in some places and vastly too predictable in others. Like some fans, I long ago believed that Filoni had, at least, good intentions with his perceived stewardship of the George Lucas creation, only then to be horrifically disappointed when he introduced covens, time travel, and intersectional feminism to the timeline. Gone was the sense of wonder; and – in its place – gender politics took root. I had hoped for a great finish to the Bad Batch, but it, too, let me down. Enough was enough, and I bowed out.
So, no, I’m not reviewing The Acolyte.
As an interested party, I did follow a good deal of the show’s reception and criticism, and I read assessments that were both positive and negative just so I could kinda/sorta keep up with what was going on. Without getting into specifics, I will say that I saw far more cogent arguments made by The Acolyte’s critics than I did by its supporters: when celebration appears predicated largely on whether or not we’ve seen something before, followers rather plainly ignore assessing whether or not a new character, planet, circumstance, or device was authentically needed in the first place. Starting from a supposition of “let’s make The Jedi the bad guys” might seem a novel concept to some, but it rather deliriously ignores the reality that The Jedi were canonically established by the previous owner as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy. None of this seemed to matter to Star Wars’ new fan contingent, and they embraced The Acolyte with Sith-like glee.
So … ? Ignoring a franchise’s tenets is now a good idea? A marketable brainstorm? Even a solid plan?
Folks, I’ve met people like this; and I’ve debated thinkers like this – as have many of you – for years. They’ve existed on the fringes of fandom, often times committing serious ink to their latest, greatest fantasies in hopes of landing a book deal or, at least, their own place in pantheon of fanfic gods. They’re the same people who once insisted that what Star Trek’s Starfleet needed was a Vic Mackey type, the fictional antihero of FX’s popular Crime/Drama The Shield. Mackey made being bad look good, and he did it for seven victim-filled seasons. (Important note: Mackey left victims wherever he tread, not survivors.) Well, these people finally got their way with 2013’s Star Trek Into Darkness; and how did that work out for the franchise? The script by Roberto Orci, Alex Kurtman, and Damon Lindelof upended the vastly superior treatment of similar material – namely Harve Bennett and Jack B. Sowards’ Star Trek: The Wrath Of Khan (1982) – by making Starfleet complicit with the bad guys and turning some of the franchise’s best original moments into little more than winks, nods, and groans. Into Darkness was a Bizarro creation where Spock yelled ‘Khan’ instead of Kirk, Kirk died instead of Spock, and the villainous Khan had the Federation’s blessing (of a sort) instead of its disdain.
Taking what works and inverting it thematically isn’t original writing. At best, it’s gimmicky. At worst, it’s outright creative laziness. It really takes no freshness and very little effort to flip a switch. Indeed, anyone can do it – that’s why switches were invented, for Pete’s sake – so while some might suggest that the idea of making The Jedi Order into a clan of secretly shady men and women privately covering up their own corruption while simultaneously maintaining law and order is innovative I’m telling you here and now it’s just a rather obvious attempt to talk politics instead of spin fairy tales.
Ultimately, Star Wars is for kids. That’s something I truly believe each of us should accept. And, yes, I mean that it’s even for the kid inside each of us who are older. Kids excel with fairy tales. Have you ever tried telling them a bedtime story about the Clinton impeachment? The Mueller Report? The Warren Commission? If you have, shame on you! If you haven’t, then you’re my kinda people.
Star Wars a grand mythology of an imaginative type that feeds something in the recesses of our brains where we’re always – always – hungry for inspiration. Spaceships fly – even those that look like a hunks of junk – and warriors clash in battles of good versus evil. Droids are real, and they can talk with us, guide us, aid us, and even antagonize us with their own robotic quirks. Blasters ping, sizzle, and zap. Lightsabers hum. Landspeeders soar on clouds of air, and twin suns blot every horizon. Even magic exists, and we’re constantly reminded that it can be used by forces of any philosophy.
However, knowing that these stories are essentially products for the young (or the young-at-heart) tells me that Lucasfilm has lost its way in greenlighting something that was so obviously opinionated and controversial as The Acolyte. This isn’t to suggest in any way that Star Wars cannot have a political message because even the Grand Master himself – George Lucas – has stated that is far from the truth. While Lucas has alluded to his views on American policy and the Vietnam War influencing his scripts for the Original Trilogy, one would be hard pressed to identify just when and where these messages were ‘dialed up to eleven’ on the screen. Instead, they were woven delicately into the fabric of the story, perhaps making them inseparable on even a cosmic level. Also, if George ever spoke about it in interviews of the day, I can assure you that – having lived through that era and hungrily watched any coverage I could find – his politics were never a sticking point. Think what he may have at the time, Lucas never spiked the football in the endzone because he believed he scored a Progressive, Libertarian, or Conservative talking point. It just never happened.
Now … flashforward to Kathleen Kennedy parading her willing conspirators around with their infamous “The Force Is Female” t-shirts, and I think might understand why the art of subtlety has been lost for the modern generation.
In today’s radically charged climate, narrative ideas come second; and what matters most is politics. Ideology is incorporated all too often, leaving things like characters, journeys, and themes acceptable only if they support the agenda. In fact, I’ve even read and shared stories wherein directors and screenwriters are privately rewarded for their D.E.I. contributions to entertainment, meaning that they can earn industry bonuses for including whatever contemporary social justice theories to indoctrinate audiences on systemic racism, gender fluidity, and climate change. Why, I’m old enough to remember a time wherein a boy unknowingly kissing his sister (i.e. Luke and Leia) might’ve produced a few good-natured laughs; by contrast, today’s revered creators might possibly celebrate including such incestuous couplings in hopes that they’d be branded ‘revolutionary’ if not just ‘brazenly taboo’ by a fawning media.
This is how far we’ve come.
Correction: this is how far we’ve fallen.
We need a return to those days wherein ideas – not politics or ideology – flourish again, but – sadly – I don’t see that happening within the worlds of Star Wars, Star Trek, Marvel, or even Doctor Who. As we’ve seen, these franchises have embraced a creative lifestyle embraced by a small percentage of the viewing audience, and their dismal ratings and box office show their efforts aren’t bearing fruit. These charlatans have left the business of entertainment behind, now openly favoring whatever pet cause these niche groups are pushing for time being.
What we need is a cultural renaissance … one that is presently long overdue.
-- EZ
Ultimately, Star Wars is for kids. That’s something I truly believe each of us should accept. And, yes, I mean that it’s even for the kid inside each of us who are older. Kids excel with fairy tales. Have you ever tried telling them a bedtime story about the Clinton impeachment? The Mueller Report? The Warren Commission? If you have, shame on you! If you haven’t, then you’re my kinda people.
Star Wars a grand mythology of an imaginative type that feeds something in the recesses of our brains where we’re always – always – hungry for inspiration. Spaceships fly – even those that look like a hunks of junk – and warriors clash in battles of good versus evil. Droids are real, and they can talk with us, guide us, aid us, and even antagonize us with their own robotic quirks. Blasters ping, sizzle, and zap. Lightsabers hum. Landspeeders soar on clouds of air, and twin suns blot every horizon. Even magic exists, and we’re constantly reminded that it can be used by forces of any philosophy.
However, knowing that these stories are essentially products for the young (or the young-at-heart) tells me that Lucasfilm has lost its way in greenlighting something that was so obviously opinionated and controversial as The Acolyte. This isn’t to suggest in any way that Star Wars cannot have a political message because even the Grand Master himself – George Lucas – has stated that is far from the truth. While Lucas has alluded to his views on American policy and the Vietnam War influencing his scripts for the Original Trilogy, one would be hard pressed to identify just when and where these messages were ‘dialed up to eleven’ on the screen. Instead, they were woven delicately into the fabric of the story, perhaps making them inseparable on even a cosmic level. Also, if George ever spoke about it in interviews of the day, I can assure you that – having lived through that era and hungrily watched any coverage I could find – his politics were never a sticking point. Think what he may have at the time, Lucas never spiked the football in the endzone because he believed he scored a Progressive, Libertarian, or Conservative talking point. It just never happened.
Now … flashforward to Kathleen Kennedy parading her willing conspirators around with their infamous “The Force Is Female” t-shirts, and I think might understand why the art of subtlety has been lost for the modern generation.
In today’s radically charged climate, narrative ideas come second; and what matters most is politics. Ideology is incorporated all too often, leaving things like characters, journeys, and themes acceptable only if they support the agenda. In fact, I’ve even read and shared stories wherein directors and screenwriters are privately rewarded for their D.E.I. contributions to entertainment, meaning that they can earn industry bonuses for including whatever contemporary social justice theories to indoctrinate audiences on systemic racism, gender fluidity, and climate change. Why, I’m old enough to remember a time wherein a boy unknowingly kissing his sister (i.e. Luke and Leia) might’ve produced a few good-natured laughs; by contrast, today’s revered creators might possibly celebrate including such incestuous couplings in hopes that they’d be branded ‘revolutionary’ if not just ‘brazenly taboo’ by a fawning media.
This is how far we’ve come.
Correction: this is how far we’ve fallen.
We need a return to those days wherein ideas – not politics or ideology – flourish again, but – sadly – I don’t see that happening within the worlds of Star Wars, Star Trek, Marvel, or even Doctor Who. As we’ve seen, these franchises have embraced a creative lifestyle embraced by a small percentage of the viewing audience, and their dismal ratings and box office show their efforts aren’t bearing fruit. These charlatans have left the business of entertainment behind, now openly favoring whatever pet cause these niche groups are pushing for time being.
What we need is a cultural renaissance … one that is presently long overdue.
-- EZ
- Published on
Again, it goes without saying that not each and every talent gets the chance to truly shine in the realms of the Fantastic, but I've always tried to honor one of my own biggest tenets: if you've ever commanded a starship -- for better or for worse -- then you deserve a mention somewhere in the vast pages of SciFiHistory.Net.
And -- ahem -- that's kinda/sorta the thing with James B. Sikking.
He got the chance aboard Star Trek III: The Search For Spock (1984) to command the new iteration of starships for Starfleet when the USS Excelsior hit the silver screen for the very first time. Granted, it probably wasn't the big launch that any captain could've asked for, but ... hey! That's just how it was written, am I right? The great Captain Kirk (then admiral) and his crew, after all, were on their ultimate mission to rescue a fallen comrade in a race against time and space; so I think we all knew that it was quite going to go spectacularly for Sikking (as Captain Styles). It is what it is, and Sikking took in all in good graces.
Alas, the talented actor doesn't have a vast resume in Science Fiction and Fantasy, but there are some worth mentioning. A quick rundown of his career shows stops to such adventures as The Outer Limits (two episodes), My Favorite Martian, My Mother The Car, The Invaders, The Immortal, Escape From The Planet Of The Apes (1971), The Night God Screamed (1971), The Astronaut (1972), Search, The Terminal Man (1974), Man From Atlantis, Capricorn One (1977), The Bionic Woman, The Incredible Hulk, Lucan, Outland (1981), Morons From Outer Space (1985), Ahhh Real Monsters, Invasion America, and Batman Beyond.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, fans, and friends of James B. Sikking.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
And -- ahem -- that's kinda/sorta the thing with James B. Sikking.
He got the chance aboard Star Trek III: The Search For Spock (1984) to command the new iteration of starships for Starfleet when the USS Excelsior hit the silver screen for the very first time. Granted, it probably wasn't the big launch that any captain could've asked for, but ... hey! That's just how it was written, am I right? The great Captain Kirk (then admiral) and his crew, after all, were on their ultimate mission to rescue a fallen comrade in a race against time and space; so I think we all knew that it was quite going to go spectacularly for Sikking (as Captain Styles). It is what it is, and Sikking took in all in good graces.
Alas, the talented actor doesn't have a vast resume in Science Fiction and Fantasy, but there are some worth mentioning. A quick rundown of his career shows stops to such adventures as The Outer Limits (two episodes), My Favorite Martian, My Mother The Car, The Invaders, The Immortal, Escape From The Planet Of The Apes (1971), The Night God Screamed (1971), The Astronaut (1972), Search, The Terminal Man (1974), Man From Atlantis, Capricorn One (1977), The Bionic Woman, The Incredible Hulk, Lucan, Outland (1981), Morons From Outer Space (1985), Ahhh Real Monsters, Invasion America, and Batman Beyond.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, fans, and friends of James B. Sikking.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Back in the days when I was first getting started in blogging, I had a great, great, great many people who showed up frequently (and exhaustingly) trying to tell me what to do.
"Don't cover this person," they'd say, "or don't cover that movie or TV show." "That isn't Science Fiction," they'd warn me, "and you're looking stupid if you put Starman alongside Battlestar Galactica." "No one will ever take you seriously if you list ALF along with Alien," they'd insist. "And stop using colorful graphics!"
You name it, and there'd almost always be someone showing up trying to offer me unsolicited advice over what they thought was a largely unsuccessful attempt on my part to say something different or be something different. At first, you do listen, right? You think that these folks wouldn't show up if they didn't care ... and, yet, it didn't take long for me to realize that the nameless knuckleheads were far more intrusive than they were constructive. Besides: you gotta blaze your own trail, am I right? You want to be a pioneer, then you have to live with taking a few arrows to the chest along the way ... and that's how I think of an astonishingly successful entertainer like Bob Newhart.
Back in the days when he first got into the business of making people laugh, no one was approaching material with such a stuffed shirt, starched color mentality; and -- believe it or not -- audiences ate up his observations. Whether he was lampooning life itself or merely throwing out a quip about a hot topic of the day, he had a knack for finding something fresh about whatever he wanted and giving it his own unique and sometimes deadpan spin. It was unreserved comedy delivered with occasional reservation, and -- when it worked as it often did -- it was damn funny.
Of course, I'm not even going to try to convince you that his name will ever be matched up against some other genre heavyweights. As I said, I'm not in the business of blogging for any other reason than to promote my own voice; and I'd like to believe that somehow along the way I learned a thing or two about communicating from the likes of Mr. Newhart. He was a genius worth watching, so the fact that he dipped his toes into the realms of the Fantastic with appearances aboard Elf (2003) -- a holiday staple in this house -- and The Librarian should be good enough for us all.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, fans, and friends of Bob Newhart.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
"Don't cover this person," they'd say, "or don't cover that movie or TV show." "That isn't Science Fiction," they'd warn me, "and you're looking stupid if you put Starman alongside Battlestar Galactica." "No one will ever take you seriously if you list ALF along with Alien," they'd insist. "And stop using colorful graphics!"
You name it, and there'd almost always be someone showing up trying to offer me unsolicited advice over what they thought was a largely unsuccessful attempt on my part to say something different or be something different. At first, you do listen, right? You think that these folks wouldn't show up if they didn't care ... and, yet, it didn't take long for me to realize that the nameless knuckleheads were far more intrusive than they were constructive. Besides: you gotta blaze your own trail, am I right? You want to be a pioneer, then you have to live with taking a few arrows to the chest along the way ... and that's how I think of an astonishingly successful entertainer like Bob Newhart.
Back in the days when he first got into the business of making people laugh, no one was approaching material with such a stuffed shirt, starched color mentality; and -- believe it or not -- audiences ate up his observations. Whether he was lampooning life itself or merely throwing out a quip about a hot topic of the day, he had a knack for finding something fresh about whatever he wanted and giving it his own unique and sometimes deadpan spin. It was unreserved comedy delivered with occasional reservation, and -- when it worked as it often did -- it was damn funny.
Of course, I'm not even going to try to convince you that his name will ever be matched up against some other genre heavyweights. As I said, I'm not in the business of blogging for any other reason than to promote my own voice; and I'd like to believe that somehow along the way I learned a thing or two about communicating from the likes of Mr. Newhart. He was a genius worth watching, so the fact that he dipped his toes into the realms of the Fantastic with appearances aboard Elf (2003) -- a holiday staple in this house -- and The Librarian should be good enough for us all.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, fans, and friends of Bob Newhart.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Awww ... did you miss me?
Yes, yes, and yes: it goes without saying that, yes, there's been a brief delay in any updates to the SciFiHistory.Net MainPage ... and that's because I was on vacation, folks. No, I didn't put up a post announcing that I was going on a brief vacation, and that's because I rarely do that. I know I have in the post, but with the increase of identity theft and whatnot I just have tried to avoid making huge statements to that effect. Instead, I slipped out while no one was watching, and I enjoyed a few days of rest and relaxation in the Great American Nowhere.
Literally: I got lost.
Briefly.
We went on a nature hike. We took a wrong turn. We got turned around. It happens. And it was only for an hour or so, and I say, "No big deal." Having taken a few trips into the wild, I'll confess it wasn't the first time ... and it likely won't be the last.
But ... I'm back at the SciFiHistory.Net News Desk this morning trying to catch up on a few notes and whatnot, so keep your eyes peeled, gentle readers. I'll get an item or two up today -- maybe even a few more on Saturday or Sunday depending upon developments -- so just calm down.
For those of you paying attention, I really haven't had all that much to say about the demise of Star Wars. No, I didn't watch The Acolyte. In fact, we cancelled our Disney+ subscription once Star Wars: The Bad Batch ended. (No, I wasn't that thrilled with that finale, either.) I try -- whenever possible -- to avoid certain spectres of negativity, and Lucasfilm under Kathleen Kennedy's watch has been little more than a growing slate of disappointment ... but because I keep getting asked I promise I'll pen something shortly. The biggest obstacle is having something to say that others haven't already said, you know? It's pretty clear that our beloved franchise is in the proverbial sh#tter, so, yes, I'm just as disappointed as are all of you.
Yet ... I'm back at it, kiddies. Vacation is over, and some thoughful reflection on Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror will commence again.
As always, thanks for reading!
-- EZ
Yes, yes, and yes: it goes without saying that, yes, there's been a brief delay in any updates to the SciFiHistory.Net MainPage ... and that's because I was on vacation, folks. No, I didn't put up a post announcing that I was going on a brief vacation, and that's because I rarely do that. I know I have in the post, but with the increase of identity theft and whatnot I just have tried to avoid making huge statements to that effect. Instead, I slipped out while no one was watching, and I enjoyed a few days of rest and relaxation in the Great American Nowhere.
Literally: I got lost.
Briefly.
We went on a nature hike. We took a wrong turn. We got turned around. It happens. And it was only for an hour or so, and I say, "No big deal." Having taken a few trips into the wild, I'll confess it wasn't the first time ... and it likely won't be the last.
But ... I'm back at the SciFiHistory.Net News Desk this morning trying to catch up on a few notes and whatnot, so keep your eyes peeled, gentle readers. I'll get an item or two up today -- maybe even a few more on Saturday or Sunday depending upon developments -- so just calm down.
For those of you paying attention, I really haven't had all that much to say about the demise of Star Wars. No, I didn't watch The Acolyte. In fact, we cancelled our Disney+ subscription once Star Wars: The Bad Batch ended. (No, I wasn't that thrilled with that finale, either.) I try -- whenever possible -- to avoid certain spectres of negativity, and Lucasfilm under Kathleen Kennedy's watch has been little more than a growing slate of disappointment ... but because I keep getting asked I promise I'll pen something shortly. The biggest obstacle is having something to say that others haven't already said, you know? It's pretty clear that our beloved franchise is in the proverbial sh#tter, so, yes, I'm just as disappointed as are all of you.
Yet ... I'm back at it, kiddies. Vacation is over, and some thoughful reflection on Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror will commence again.
As always, thanks for reading!
-- EZ
- Published on
For his particular time and particular place in our particular universe, Richard Simmons was certainly quite a character.
Though I never watched his programming with any degree of regularity, I think everyone knew of him back in the day. He was one of those celebrities that seemed to pop up anywhere and everywhere for some time; and -- if you were anything like I was -- one never quite knew whether or not we were supposed to take him seriously. No matter what he was doing, he was always this massive ball of human energy, jumping and bouncing and sweating to the Oldies at every given opportunity. I remember remarking to a friend when we saw him on television that "He's all hair!" He definitely had a head of it, that's for sure, and I never had much.
His personae ran over into any and every appearance he made beyond his fitness spots. He turned up as a voice character in an episode of the fondly remembering Dinosaurs program as I recall, and IMDB.com also lists him as making a visit to the world of Steven Spielberg's Amazing Stories during its run on the Boob Tube.
Alas, none of us gets out of here alive; and word has reached the Web of the man's passing.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Richard Simmons.
May he forever rest in peace ... though I suspect that -- even in the great hereafter -- he'll likely be whipping even the Angels into better cardiovascular shape.
-- EZ
Though I never watched his programming with any degree of regularity, I think everyone knew of him back in the day. He was one of those celebrities that seemed to pop up anywhere and everywhere for some time; and -- if you were anything like I was -- one never quite knew whether or not we were supposed to take him seriously. No matter what he was doing, he was always this massive ball of human energy, jumping and bouncing and sweating to the Oldies at every given opportunity. I remember remarking to a friend when we saw him on television that "He's all hair!" He definitely had a head of it, that's for sure, and I never had much.
His personae ran over into any and every appearance he made beyond his fitness spots. He turned up as a voice character in an episode of the fondly remembering Dinosaurs program as I recall, and IMDB.com also lists him as making a visit to the world of Steven Spielberg's Amazing Stories during its run on the Boob Tube.
Alas, none of us gets out of here alive; and word has reached the Web of the man's passing.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Richard Simmons.
May he forever rest in peace ... though I suspect that -- even in the great hereafter -- he'll likely be whipping even the Angels into better cardiovascular shape.
-- EZ
- Published on
Honestly, Charmed is a franchise I don't think I've ever watched.
Now, I may've seen an episode or two. I know the wifey had it on in reruns one time -- she likes TV mostly for noise while she's puttering around the house -- and I saw a bit of it as a consequence. But no, it just wasn't a program for me, much like a good deal of Fantasy-themed stuff that's come out in the past few decades. I'd never malign it in any way: folks obviously tuned in because it stayed on for some time and even had a reboot, but -- from what little I know of it -- it just wouldn't have meant all that much to me.
But one of its stars -- Shannen Doherty -- certainly amassed a bit of a reputation in Hollywood for -- ahem -- being difficult to work with now and then. I do recall her lampooning her own reputation in an appearance on Saturday Night Live -- another show I don't watch, but I've seen highlights when they've been shared in places -- and I have nothing but respect for talent who are willing and able to throw stones at themselves when the time is right. Kudos for the lady stepping up to the plate and swinging for the fences.
I'd followed her struggles with cancer when it was first mentioned in the press, and I think we'd all watched her going through the highs and lows of that debilitating experience. Sadly, it seems like the beast overwhelmed her, and the news has reported that she ultimately succumbed to something that's taken far too many good and decent people from us.
This morning, I did a bit of reading on her obituaries of note, and I learned that she earned not one but two Saturn Awards nominations for her work aboard the afore-mentioned Charmed. If nothing else, her time in the spotlight remains a legacy that brought a bit of joy to so many; and I hope that her efforts on screens big and small continue inspire in the way good characters always do.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Shannen Doherty.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
Now, I may've seen an episode or two. I know the wifey had it on in reruns one time -- she likes TV mostly for noise while she's puttering around the house -- and I saw a bit of it as a consequence. But no, it just wasn't a program for me, much like a good deal of Fantasy-themed stuff that's come out in the past few decades. I'd never malign it in any way: folks obviously tuned in because it stayed on for some time and even had a reboot, but -- from what little I know of it -- it just wouldn't have meant all that much to me.
But one of its stars -- Shannen Doherty -- certainly amassed a bit of a reputation in Hollywood for -- ahem -- being difficult to work with now and then. I do recall her lampooning her own reputation in an appearance on Saturday Night Live -- another show I don't watch, but I've seen highlights when they've been shared in places -- and I have nothing but respect for talent who are willing and able to throw stones at themselves when the time is right. Kudos for the lady stepping up to the plate and swinging for the fences.
I'd followed her struggles with cancer when it was first mentioned in the press, and I think we'd all watched her going through the highs and lows of that debilitating experience. Sadly, it seems like the beast overwhelmed her, and the news has reported that she ultimately succumbed to something that's taken far too many good and decent people from us.
This morning, I did a bit of reading on her obituaries of note, and I learned that she earned not one but two Saturn Awards nominations for her work aboard the afore-mentioned Charmed. If nothing else, her time in the spotlight remains a legacy that brought a bit of joy to so many; and I hope that her efforts on screens big and small continue inspire in the way good characters always do.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Shannen Doherty.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Without naming names (which I'll sometimes do as a courtesy), I was once taken to task on social media by an actor who thought I was somewhat confused for considering ALF (1986-2004) as Science Fiction. (It's not, but it's arguably Fantasy, which kinda/sorta still falls in my wheelhouse.)
There wasn't a lot of back-and-forth, honestly. I think it was just intended as a good natured jab thrown my way, almost if to say that I was a polite rube for considering the sitcom anything that deserved any great recognition. (FYI: per IMDB.com, the sitcom has 7 award wins, no easy feat in Tinseltown I've also been told.) In any event, the back-and-forth stopped when I -- ahem -- educated the actor that the word alien was in the show's title. Apparently, the man didn't know that ALF actually stood for Alien Life Form. And ... there you have it.
But, no, ALF was not a show I watched. I may've caught the occasional episode when I couldn't find anything else on the Boob Tube. I've never been a fan of sitcoms -- traditional or otherwise -- so I watch them sparingly. (Same thing with musicals, as many readers here know.) And the point I was ultimately making to the actor and anyone who followed the brief thread was that such genre projects big and small still deserve a bit of light shone on them from time-to-time because that's the right thing to do for serious thinkers in any collective. ALF wasn't for everyone, but that doesn't make it forgettable.
I bring this up today because I noticed this morning that former child actor Benji Gregory -- one of the leads to the program -- was found deceased in his automobile; and I wanted to mark his passage, sad that it is. As a talent, he stood toe-to-toe with that alien critter; and he helped bring laughter -- that spark of joy that makes us human -- to so many during his time in the spotlight. IMDB.com reports that the young man even enjoyed three nominations from the Young Artists Awards in consecutive years 1987, 1988, and 1989 ... again, no small feat, indeed.
So our warmest prayers today are extended to the family, fans, and friends of Benji Gregory.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
There wasn't a lot of back-and-forth, honestly. I think it was just intended as a good natured jab thrown my way, almost if to say that I was a polite rube for considering the sitcom anything that deserved any great recognition. (FYI: per IMDB.com, the sitcom has 7 award wins, no easy feat in Tinseltown I've also been told.) In any event, the back-and-forth stopped when I -- ahem -- educated the actor that the word alien was in the show's title. Apparently, the man didn't know that ALF actually stood for Alien Life Form. And ... there you have it.
But, no, ALF was not a show I watched. I may've caught the occasional episode when I couldn't find anything else on the Boob Tube. I've never been a fan of sitcoms -- traditional or otherwise -- so I watch them sparingly. (Same thing with musicals, as many readers here know.) And the point I was ultimately making to the actor and anyone who followed the brief thread was that such genre projects big and small still deserve a bit of light shone on them from time-to-time because that's the right thing to do for serious thinkers in any collective. ALF wasn't for everyone, but that doesn't make it forgettable.
I bring this up today because I noticed this morning that former child actor Benji Gregory -- one of the leads to the program -- was found deceased in his automobile; and I wanted to mark his passage, sad that it is. As a talent, he stood toe-to-toe with that alien critter; and he helped bring laughter -- that spark of joy that makes us human -- to so many during his time in the spotlight. IMDB.com reports that the young man even enjoyed three nominations from the Young Artists Awards in consecutive years 1987, 1988, and 1989 ... again, no small feat, indeed.
So our warmest prayers today are extended to the family, fans, and friends of Benji Gregory.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Folks, I'm not one who worships at the trough of all things Stanley Kubrick.
I can't tell you how much hate I've endured over the years because of that, but -- at the end of the day -- it is what it is. For example, I didn't (like so many) go absolutely gaga over the director's big screen adaptation of Stephen King's The Shining (1980). While I'll concede that it's a good film, I struggle too often with its laconic pacing -- there are reasonably long stretches where just not all that much happens of interest -- and that just isn't my cup of tea. My two cents has always been this: the longer I have to wait for a payoff, then the bigger than payoff really ought to be. In that respect, the film just doesn't intrigue me the way it does so many others; and it is what it is.
Now, I will confirm that I think its performances are all pretty damn spiffy. Shelley Duvall, in particular, really carries the film for me because she's one of the only folks I can relate to on any conceivable level. As good as Jack Nicholson is, film frights only work when they're paired against someone who's enduring something unimaginable; and I think Duvall mightily conveys the sheer terror of her circumstances once everything spirals out of control.
Of even greater interest to me as one who pontificates about films and film history is the fact that in the same year as The Shining the actress won the hearts of young'uns in the guise of 'Olive Oyl' aboard the somewhat unnecessarily maligned screen adaptation of Popeye The Sailor. Since I'm no fan of musicals on any level, I think turning this one into a song-and-dance affair was a miss; and, yet, I think I was it more than a few times on the silver screen in my youth. Yeah, it was a bit of lunacy here and there, but I honestly loved the late Robin Williams in the lead paired up against this surprisingly versatile actress. Of course, I understand that so many "in the know" pretty much roasted the feature; but it tickled my fancy well enough in its time and place.
Alas -- as I always say -- none of us gets out alive, and word reached the World Wide Web just today of the actress' passing. I've read some accounts that suggest this was owed to complications from diabetes, but as I'm not seeing any specific medical confirmation I'm not entirely certain that's accurate. I mention it only because I've seen it a few times now, so I suspect it may be legitimate.
Our prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Shelley Duvall.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
I can't tell you how much hate I've endured over the years because of that, but -- at the end of the day -- it is what it is. For example, I didn't (like so many) go absolutely gaga over the director's big screen adaptation of Stephen King's The Shining (1980). While I'll concede that it's a good film, I struggle too often with its laconic pacing -- there are reasonably long stretches where just not all that much happens of interest -- and that just isn't my cup of tea. My two cents has always been this: the longer I have to wait for a payoff, then the bigger than payoff really ought to be. In that respect, the film just doesn't intrigue me the way it does so many others; and it is what it is.
Now, I will confirm that I think its performances are all pretty damn spiffy. Shelley Duvall, in particular, really carries the film for me because she's one of the only folks I can relate to on any conceivable level. As good as Jack Nicholson is, film frights only work when they're paired against someone who's enduring something unimaginable; and I think Duvall mightily conveys the sheer terror of her circumstances once everything spirals out of control.
Of even greater interest to me as one who pontificates about films and film history is the fact that in the same year as The Shining the actress won the hearts of young'uns in the guise of 'Olive Oyl' aboard the somewhat unnecessarily maligned screen adaptation of Popeye The Sailor. Since I'm no fan of musicals on any level, I think turning this one into a song-and-dance affair was a miss; and, yet, I think I was it more than a few times on the silver screen in my youth. Yeah, it was a bit of lunacy here and there, but I honestly loved the late Robin Williams in the lead paired up against this surprisingly versatile actress. Of course, I understand that so many "in the know" pretty much roasted the feature; but it tickled my fancy well enough in its time and place.
Alas -- as I always say -- none of us gets out alive, and word reached the World Wide Web just today of the actress' passing. I've read some accounts that suggest this was owed to complications from diabetes, but as I'm not seeing any specific medical confirmation I'm not entirely certain that's accurate. I mention it only because I've seen it a few times now, so I suspect it may be legitimate.
Our prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Shelley Duvall.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ