Wednesday, February 16, 2022

The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

Amazon, a guy whose only other writing credit is "Star Trek Beyond", and a guy with no writing credits at all undoubtedly knew exactly what kind of furor they would stir up with their casting decisions on this show. Predictably, the subject of race has dominated the initial online response to the show's trailer, giving both reactionary and progressive voices plenty of windmills to tilt at. 

Is that too cynical? Probably. But Amazon as the voice of progress and equality? Amazon? Pee in a bottle warehouse workers Amazon? Come on. I think fucking not. 

From my admittedly distant, half the world away remove, it feels more like someone ticking a box, and that casting a couple of black folks is what passes for racial representation in American pop culture today. In short, an utterly empty gesture with no meaning beyond its own performance. 

And thus not really worth debating.

As a result, I don't care either way. The one thing I have long regretted about the success of the movies is how they have nearly drowned out all other representations or visualizations of Tolkien, but frankly no movie or show is going to affect how those stories live in my imagination. My Middle Earth owes more to Angus McBride or John Howe than it does to Peter Jackson.

So black elves, sure, why not. Knock yourself out. A beardless black lady dwarf, okay. Go for it. We've been through this half a dozen times already. The BBC's Troy series, the Witcher, and so on and on and on. The usual people will try to score points by squawking about it, the usual people will try to score points by defending it, years ago this might have been a productive battlefield but however sincere or heartfelt the emotions of the writers of the moment may be, I've been here, I've done this, it just feels like watching people go through the motions.

No, what turns me off from Amazon's effort is how generic it feels. Unlike the Lord of the Rings movies, which had the book to go on, this show is being stitched together from Tolkien's sketchy history of Middle Earth. And when you get a bunch of TV fantasy writers to sit down and write a show, they write the kind of show that TV fantasy writers write. Which is to say, they write the Witcher and The Wheel of Time and Letter for the King and Shannara Chronicles and the last three seasons of Game of Thrones and this looks no different from any of them.

They've turned Galadriel into a warrior princess because of course they have, that is the only way the writers can conceive of portraying a character as powerful. She has an anguished human friend because of course she does, shows these days are full of miserable people wallowing in their misery. There are hobbits because of course there are, every show needs cute comic relief.

To a certain extent that comes with the territory of being the pioneer--all the later imitators have got their shows in first, so Lord of the Rings looks imitative, but at the same time the unique and wonderful thing about the LotR movies was how grounded and historical it looked. Not fantasy at all.

The other obvious rebuttal to complains about loose adaptations is that if you liked the LotR movies you should be fine with writers adapting Tolkien, as the movies changed plenty of things. And indeed, I am rather fond of the movies--the bits that don't reek of cookie-cutter movie plotting 101 oh-no-i-need-a-dramatic-beat-here. Which the LotR movies have plenty of.

What works in the movies:

1. The Balrog and the bridge of Khazad-dum. The balrog in particular is A-1. Jaws like a refinery blast furnace. Superb.

2. The death of Boromir. Indeed I think I prefer Sean Bean to book Boromir--they really found the humanity of the character and brought it to the surface

3. Helm's Deep

4. Smeagol in all his slimy slippery glory

5. The ride of the Rohirrim

6. Eowyn confronts the Witch-King

7. Sam's indefatigable po-ta-toes down to earthiness

What is bloody stupid in the movies:

1. Aragorn grabs a ghost by the neck--a ghost, a being whose single, universal attribute is that its neck is non-grabbable, then slides down a mountain of skulls in pure early Peter Jackson budget horror film hamminess

2. Frodo tells Sam to "go home" at the border of Mordor, something like 3000 miles from home, because he suspects Sam ate a bit of bread

3. Faramir drags Frodo and Sam all the way to Osgiliath, nearly gets them captured, then abruptly lets them go

4. Sam, the most down to earth character imaginable, is asked what they are "fighting for" and instead of saying the most in-character and obvious thing possible ("home") gives some asinine speech about there being good in the world

5. Arwen is sick because of the ring or some shit, I don't know

6. Aragorn goes missing for a bit so he can have a wet dream with a horse

7. Treebeard is utterly unaware that Saruman has been cutting down trees in his own forest and which he is the guardian of (and whose defense is his entire reason for existence) until it is pointed out to him

Guess which of the two lists is entirely made up of things adapted by the writers.

Given Peter Jackson's spotty track record since the trilogy, I tend to ascribe virtually all of the success of the movies to the quality of the production design and the folks at Weta, with some left over for the stellar cast, and virtually none to the writing team. The changes were nonsensical and baffling and precisely what you get when people trained to write scripts write scripts. 

I will forever remember an interview in which British medievalist and Tolkien scholar Tom Shippey said no modern author in their right mind would write the Council of Elrond chapter as they wouldn't trust their audience to bear with them. There's a lesson there, as I sometimes think there's a lesson in the enduring popularity of that other oddly-written SFF tentpole, Dune, in that what is seen as sensible or "necessary" for the medium is not always so. 

To quote no less an authority than my own brother, there are two ways to succeed: do what you do better than anyone else, or do something different from anyone else. The former is almost impossible, so it's a wonder so few people try the latter.

Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Book of Boba Fett: Chapter 7

"That's Boba Fett! He's from that other movie!"

This may just be the algorithm talking, but pick a show, any show, then go online and scroll through the hashtag, or the subreddit, or the Facebook group, or the YouTube search results, the official Discord server, pick your poison. My utterly unscientific analysis is that the posts you'll find tend to fall into one of about four categories:

1. Attempts to stir up controversy for clout

2. "What everybody gets wrong about... "

3. "... ending explained."

4. "Hidden Easter eggs in... "

Actual reviews by critics tend to get drowned out in the online forums that are our modern-day intellectual Boston Molasses Disaster. Instead you get numbers 2 through 4, and the tenuous thread I'm going to try to establish here is that all three are about the minutiae rather than the gestalt. Obsessing over tiny details rather than questions such as "What bits of it are good or enjoyable, which less so, and why?" All trees, no forest. 

"That's Luke Skywalker! He's from that other movie!"

Now, God and Coles Notes knows hand-holding people through the plot is nothing new, but what's interesting to me here is how much of #4 there seems to be. People with nothing to say about story or mechanics or drama or tension or humor or any of the things that make a story work will instead focus on the sports stats of every minor character briefly visible in the background of scene 3, or the provenance of the thing held by the protagonist in scene 5.

The Book of Boba Fett was a show made for such people. It is a show uniquely geared to generate the maximum neutral, opinion- and insight-free online chatter without actually telling a coherent narrative. 

"That's the Mandalorian! He's from that other show!"

Nothing, not one single thing in the entire show stands on its own. Boba Fett is only the protagonist because he became a fan favorite 40 years ago for having a cool helmet. He's on Tatooine because RotJ was on Tatooine. He lives in a RotJ palace, with RotJ pig guards and has a RotJ pet rancor. He's friends with the guy from the other show. Who gets a ship from the prequel movies. And then goes to visit, you guessed it, RotJ Deep Fake Luke Skywalker. And a lady from the Clone Wars show. Boba is also pals with a Wookie from the comics, but enemies with some blue dude from the Clone Wars show. Mando recruits another crossover guy. But then they're attacked by prequel concept art droids.

You know what I mean? Nothing original here, just a stream of actor and object cameos for people to compile lists about.

"That's Cobb Vanth! He's from that other show!"

And here's the thing: The online fans love it. Oh, they grouch about the fact that the plot is completely nonsensical and the putative protagonist disappears for 1/3 of his own show, but they forgive all when given a stream of things to identify and recognize from elsewhere.

It's just baffling for even mildly casual fans. I mean, I'm a moderate Star Wars nerd, but the final showdown between Boba Fett and Some Guy He Knows Apparently lacks any weight or tension because Some Guy appeared in all of one scene before the finale so we've had zero in-show buildup to this. I've got to go back and watch seven seasons of the Clone Wars just for even the remotest hope of understanding what this moment is supposed to mean to the two characters.

But okay, this show is for the fanatics, not the fans. It appears to exist as trivia list fodder, a string of facts to be recited to show how big a fan you are.

"That's Cad Bane! He's from that other show!"

The episode itself was rubbish, but does that even matter? It's essentially an hour-long gun fight directed by a man with absolutely zero flair for directing action. Two soldiers with jetpacks stand in the middle of a street and sportingly let their opponents shoot at them. Combatants take shelter behind a combustible hover-car, instead of the fairly incombustible stone building two meters behind them. Someone gets shot half a dozen times, limps to safety, and then is up and running around the next scene. People run away from invincible giant robots by fleeing down a street in a single group, rather than splitting up or taking cover or doing anything really. In order to fight against droids with shields impenetrable to lasers, our heroes decide to do lasers at them FROM SLIGHTLY HIGHER UP. 

All ends well though, when One Guy from That Other Movie kills Some Guy From That Other Show.

A fitting end to a show about other shows.

Friday, February 4, 2022

Book of Just About Everybody Other than Boba Fett: Chapter 6

Just... what an odd choice for the structure of this series. It's like Dave Filoni, Jon Favreau and the writers ran out of Boba material halfway through and said, "Screw it, let's do The Mandalorian again". So after four episodes of backstory and build-up, you get two episodes in which the putative main character appears for less than 5 minutes and has maybe one line. While Boba standing in the background and saying 3 words might be very on-brand for ESB-era Boba Fett, it is one of the weirdest, oddest things I've seen in a serialized SF show since serialized SF shows became a thing.