Month: May 1999

Election (1999)

Election (1999)

(In theaters, May 1999) This film despite what one might infer from the plot (which revolves around a High-School Council presidential race), is too original to be simply considered a “teen movie”. Unfortunately, as with Rushmore, it’s not enough to be original is you want to be enjoyable. Election is -fittingly enough for its chosen sub-genre- a film with identity problems. It’s a tale where the protagonist is not the good guy and the antagonist is not the bad girl. It’s a tragedy with pretensions of comedy seen through the eyes of the loser who thinks he did the right thing. I ended up cheering for Tracy Flick and agreeing with her assertion that “great minds are always brought down by idiots”. As a former High School council president, I experienced a bit of flashback when a candidate voted for the other because “it didn’t seem right to vote for myself”: Been there, done that, won the election. Election, on the other hand, is a mixed bag of elements not fully integrated.

Macrolife, George Zebrowski

Avon, 1979, 284 pages, C$3.95 mmpb, ISBN 0-380-55483-6

One of the unique aspects of Science-Fiction as a genre is that is some instance, it’s possible for a novel to be completely interesting while also being completely rotten. George Zebrowski’s Macrolife is a good example of this.

In many ways, this is an incompetent novel. For most of the books, you can’t discern the characters, and it doesn’t help that most are members of a same anglo-saxon family, so you’re stuck with boring names like Jack, Richard, John, James… Everyone talks the same way and act identically so that it’s a waste of time to figure out the characterization.

The novel is divided in three parts, and I’ll be the first to admit that the third one should have been a two-page epilogue, not a thirty-five page chapter. The pacing is also sadly deficient in the middle section, with our protagonist going down on a primitive planet to… er… do some stuff I couldn’t get interested in. Whoever Macrolife‘s editor was, s/he could have spend some more time on its structure. The prose is okay, though Zebrowski didn’t bother with dialogue.

Which leaves us with the first section and segments of the second part. Fortunately, the novel improves sharply in the fist section. “Sunspace: 2021” resemble Clarke’s work in many ways, with its portrait of a future human society just beginning to step into space. The near-magical “bulerite” element isn’t very convincing, but it does sets up a few interesting situations. More significantly, this section revolves around an event that doesn’t require a lot of effort to be gripping; the end of Earth always requires some attention..

The beginning and ending of the second sections also have some interest, mostly in the description of how humanity is able to evolve beyond Earth and even thrive elsewhere. Though I’m not really familiar with the whole of Zebrowski’s work, this really fits well with the end of his 1998 novel Brute Orbits and elements of The Killing Star, his 1995 collaboration with Charles Pellegrino.

The true value of Macrolife, as is the norm for a hard-SF novel, are the ideas that it showcases. Though it would be useless to pretend that the notion of space colonization is as surprising today as it was in 1979, Zebrowski makes an interesting argument and his “Macrolife” (ie; human settlements as cells of a super-organism) terminology is thought-provoking. Though the novel is twenty years old, it hasn’t perceptibly aged and compares in theme with the latest hard-SF. (It’s fun to see Greg Egan’s Diaspora as an update to Macrolife. Or maybe not.) In any case, this is a novel of considerable ambition. As the blurb says, “From the end on the world to the end of the universe”!

One can’t say that Macrolife has much of a reputation today. (Though its worth noting that the Library Journal selected it as one of the “100 best SF novels”) It’s unfortunate, given that it seems as significant -in SF terms- as its contemporaries like Sheffield’s The Web Between the Worlds and Clarke’s The Fountain of Paradise. In fact, I’m surprised that “Macrolife” as a term hasn’t received much more attention (an Altavista search reveals only 35 mentions) in this age of enlightened environmentalism and impending private colonization of space.

You can easily dismiss Macrolife on literary merits; no argument about that. You can scoff at the weak characters and chances are that they’d agree. You can even ditch most of the last two-third with nary a qualm. But you can’t really argue that the novel isn’t worth a look. Such is the strength of SF, which can get away with escaping most of the criteria of good fiction and still end up with a worthwhile result.

Desperado (1995)

Desperado (1995)

(Second viewing, On TV, May 1999) “Oh, I’ll just re-watch the first fifteen minutes” (…) “Hmmm, I’ll just watch until after Salma Hayek comes in” (…) “Hey, there’s a good action scene coming up after the nude scene” (…) “Gee, what the heck, I’ll watch it all again”. Desperado sits on my Top-100 favorite movies list and re-watching it only highlights why it’s there: The story in itself is ordinary (man goes after bad guy, gets in gunfights, meets girl) but the treatment is superlative. The directing style is wonderfully kinetic, the script pushes everything over the top, Banderas and Hayek make a couple of Beautiful People… Desperado is a modern western with an far-east attitude, a mix of John Wayne and John Woo with a style of its own. If anything, it’s even more interesting the second time around, as you’re able to appreciate the technique even more. (Though the “missiles” effect now looks obvious.) Watch it again.

(Third viewing, On DVD, April 2004) Goodness gracious, I so love this film. The action scenes are low-budget miracles. The character introductions have seldom been more effective. The whole western-meets-Hong Kong-action vibe is delicious. The principal casting is perfect. Salma Hayek has rarely been so drop-dead gorgeous. I’m still pretty annoyed by the let-down ending, but at least the good audio commentary by writer/director Robert Rodriguez helps to explain why it feels like such a cheat. (While a bit less polished than his usual commentaries, Rodriguez’s track is very informative as to the technical making of the film) A smattering of small documentaries complete the special edition DVD package, a must for any action enthusiast.

Atomic Train (1999)

Atomic Train (1999)

(On TV, May 1999) A pretty curious made-for-TV movie, structurally speaking. Presented in two two-hour parts, it has the particularity that the first half (A train racing to destruction!) is far more involving than the second one (Denver destroyed by an atomic explosion, the aftermath!). Some easy cutting would not only have brought the movie back to a more manageable 120 minutes, without sacrificing the action sequences. At least three useless “family drama” subplots bring the movie to a grinding halt. The result is a stupid (no points for science or logic, here…) bloated mess that damnably shows the promise of a pretty decent action B-movie.

Affliction (1997)

Affliction (1997)

(In theaters, May 1999) The story of a man’s slow and inevitable descent in insanity and violence. It’s not a feel-good movie; there is no redemption. (Though there’s a car chase) Call me crazy, but I prefer happy endings. On the other hand, the performances are top-notch and the direction surprisingly interesting at a few moments. I also, for some reason, really liked Willem Dafoe’s narration and character. If you’re able to distinguish between enjoyment and appreciation, you’ll find that this is a very good movie, but that you probably won’t watch it again for fun. Not exactly a good date movie. (Oh, and it’s perfectly clear that no one in the production of the movie knows anything about sub-zero winter and snow; just watch Nolte and Defoe try to shovel the garage driveway. Hilarious!)

Starlight 2, Ed. Patrick Nielsen Hayden

Tor, 1998, 318 pages, C$34.95 hc, ISBN 0-312-86184-2

In his introduction to Starlight 2, editor Patrick Nielsen Hayden reopens a well-stirred can of worms by noting, unapologetically, that his anthology series includes both Science-Fiction and Fantasy. The SF-vs-Fantasy debate has torn apart many otherwise-solid relationships, destroyed entire families and plunged not a few countries into internal strife. Well, maybe not, but in the fannish community, there are few more acrimonious subjects.

Hayden, -noted contributor to rec.arts.sf.written, in addition of being one of the best editors in the SF business- forces the debate in his introduction to Starlight 2, when he writes such combative statements as “[both genres] share the same readers” (not sure) and “much of SF is fantasy with hardware” (much of bad SF, usually) as well as his counterpoint to David Hartwell’s “all-‘true SF’” credo for his “Best SF” anthology.

Past this rather doubtful three pages, Starlight 2 is a collection of thirteen Science-Fiction and Fantasy stories. There’s something for everyone, and that’s the biggest failing of the anthology.

I’ll be honest and admit that I skimmed over the stories by Suzanna Clarke, Carter Scholz, Ellen Kushner, Esther M. Friesner, Angelica Gorodischer (as translated by Ursula K. LeGuin): Life’s too short to waste on that icky fantasy stuff, especially when it gets boring on page two and the last few pages offer no big surprises.

The anthology starts off with a bang with Robert Charles Wilson’s Divided by Infinity. Smooth introduction, great paradigm change(s), terrifying conclusion, great premise. If only the other stories would have been like that…

M. Shayne Bell’s “Lock Down” offers the promise of a much better story that what is actually delivered. No big conflict, no development… just… almost a vignette. Disappointing. With luck, Bell will develop his premise into something more substantial. Maybe a novel?

Raphael Carter is almost invariably a constant joy to read, and “Congenital Agenesis of Gender Ideation” is no exception. Despite a relatively meaningless premise, the story is presented, quite originally, in the style of a scientific research paper. Fun stuff.

Martha Soukup’s The House of Expectations veers close to comedic territory at times, but finally ends up as one of the best -and most poignant- stories of the volume. Classically structured and clearly written, it’s a pleasure to read.

Many people will be surprised by David Langford’s A Game of Consequences. Not because it’s not up to Langford’s usual high standards of writing, but because it deals with rather more serious themes than the British author’s usual brand of comedy. One of the best of the volume.

“Access Fantasy”, by Jonathan Lethem, conforms to expectations of difficult reading (one story, one paragraph), cardboard future, ironic humor and inconclusive conclusion that we’ve come to expect from Lethem. Surprisingly, it’s also a lot of fun. Who would have thought?

Geoffrey Landis is best known for hard-SF, but Snow looks a lot like pure realism. The sympathetic protagonist, however, is miles removed from the usual clichés or squeaky-clean hard-SF protagonists. A very good short-short story, with a twist.

Finally, we come to Ted Chiang’s Story of Your Life, which always seems poised of the verge of something much bigger and much better, but ends up rather weakly, with the sense that an opportunity was missed. I still think it’s a pretty good linguistic SF story, but a lot of the extra stuff should have been cut.

SF or Fantasy, magic or reality, Starlight 2 offers a collect of sophisticated speculative fiction. Though I didn’t find it as uniformly marvelous as some other critics (too much fantasy, not enough oomph in the conclusions), it’s good reading as long as you know which story to pick and read. “True-SF” fans, however, should be best served by the Hartwell anthologies.