Extemporaneous Comments on the new TV Season

I've been watching TV.

New Shows:

Flashforward (ABC) - Two episodes in and I am intrigued but not enthused. The "flashforward" is a cool concept and there are many story ideas to mine from it. But the show is rather flat and I wonder if it can sustain its premise for very long. We all know there will be another flashforward at some point (season finale?), but, if so, it has to be something different from the last one. How will this show evolve? I can see it becoming stagnant real fast if it isn't willing to take some risks. The producers are clearly influenced by LOST and I hope they look to that show as an example of how to expand a story and keep their concept fresh. I'm staying tuned for now.

Community (NBC) - I heard good reviews and liked the first episode. But the show is trying too hard to be funny and not hard enough to be inviting. Chevy Chase is good and so is lead actor, Joel McHale, but the rest of the supporting cast looks like it could come from any sitcom from the past 30 years. And the storylines seem recycled, too. I'm on the cusp of tuning out.

Modern Family (ABC) - I watched the first episode and laughed a few times but this was another one of those shows that didn't click for me. I guess I'm growing tired of the documentary style sitcom even though I like Parks and Recreation and The Office (see my comments below). This show might be very good over the long haul but I don't have the time to commit right now. Already tuned out.

Bored to Death (HBO) OK, here's a show I like. Bored to Death is about characters. The show takes time to let its characters think and interact. In other words, it's slow. But that's why I like it. Unlike network programs that urgently rush huge casts of characters on- and off-stage in hopes that audiences will see something they like, HBO lets shows like Bored to Death find their own rhythm. Bored to Death features a dopey, likeable Jason Schwartzman whose character is at an age where he is struggling against the responsibilities of adulthood. The grown-up world isn't the one from movies and books. Schwartzman is naive and sweet and he's fun to watch as he tries to maintain these qualities while also being a hard-boiled "private eye." I don't know if Bored to Death will last more than one season, but I'll take what I can get. (In other words, I'm tuned-in for the duration.)

Glee (FOX) - I really shouldn't like Glee. It's contrived and predictable. It features some of the most tired sitcom plotting you're likely to see. (A faked pregnancy? Really?) But I find myself laughing at Jane Lynch who totally nails her competitive, tough-coach persona. And I guess I'm a sucker for musical numbers which can, when done right, add a magical quality to the otherwise mundane. Glee has enough magic to make me overlook its flaws. (For now.) I'm tuned in until I wake up and think straight.

Returning Shows:

The Simpsons (FOX) Still great. And after twenty years! The Simpsons may have lost some of the cleverness and brio of its heyday, but there's still inspired humor on the show. The opening episode featuring "Everyman" was a wonderful example.

Curb Your Enthusiasm (HBO) There's lots of hype about the Seinfeld reunion this season, but even before this plot kicked into gear (in the third episode) the show remained unconventional and unpredictable. In short: brilliant.

Parks and Recreation (NBC) Here's a show that's improving with time. The first season (of only six episodes) had some nice moments but seemed scattered. The new season is letting the characters become more grounded. I like the budding romance between Leslie (Amy Poehler) and police officer Dave (Louis C. K.). It shows how the characters on Parks and Recreation (like those on like The Office) are people and not just caricatures. That's what makes it work for me.

The Office (NBC) This is still a wonderful show. Steve Carell deserves recognition for his portrayal of office boss, Michael Scott. Maybe someday he'll get that Emmy. The show is working like a well-oiled machine but I think it's starting to show its age. The Pam/Jim storyline lost its edge a long time ago. Their hindered romance was once the driving force of the show. Without it, there's a narrative vacuum. I keep expecting some new drama to enter the lives of Pam and Jim but they keep moving happily along. (They've both been promoted, they're getting married, they're having a baby. Great! But where's the drama?) And one other thing: It is getting hard to believe that a "documentary" is still being "filmed" at Dunder Mifflin. Will this documentary ever be shown? Or do the producers hope we, the audience, have forgotten the premise of the show? (In the fictional world of the British version of The Office, the documentary we "saw" being shot on the first 12 episodes was supposedly shown. Could this ever happen on the US version?)

Dollhouse (FOX) I always thought this show had much to offer and the second season is living up to the promise of the first. There are many wonderful concepts at play in Dollhouse, among them the ideas of portable and manufactured identities and the importance of memory as a defining aspect of personality. Despite its formulaic plot structure (Mission!/Danger!/Fight!), there is a sophisticated level of storytelling going on here that makes Dollhouse one of the most rewarding science fiction shows in some time. (Though there is one flaw in the Dollhouse scenario that has become almost laughable--the constant failure of the "imprinting technology" which is used to program "actives" for their missions. Said tech fails almost as often as the Enterprise transporters on Star Trek. And just like those glitchy transporters, the buggy tech in Dollhouse is usually the root-cause for drama from episode-to-episode. It is starting to strain credibility that the Dollhouse managers aren't running a full diagnostic review of their unreliable and highly dangerous technology.) Sadly, the ratings for Dollhouse are abysmal. I hope we see the full run of 13 episodes ordered by FOX and that Dollhouse creator, Joss Whedon, plotted this arc with some resolution. I doubt Dollhouse will be on in 2010 and so, for now, I'm watching it like I would a mini-series: I know I have so many episodes and then it's over. I better enjoy it while it lasts.

Comics Reviews

All-Star Superman, Volumes 1 & 2 – Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely

There’s a whole lot to like in All-Star Superman. Writer Grant Morrison essentially distills decades of Superman lore into a 12-part series (collected here in two volumes). The story begins as Superman exposes himself to a lethal dose of solar radiation and soon realizes he has only a short time to live. He decides to tie-up various loose ends in his life: We see a dramatic confession to Lois Lane, a visit to (and from) the Bizarro world, multiple encounters with Lex Luthor, a reminiscence in Smallville, and various other story bits from the Super-universe. Morrison doesn’t cheat with his “Superman is dying story” either; he provides an elegant and moving resolution that is quite effective. There are many great moments in the series—some large and super-heroic, others small and tender—all exquisitely rendered by artist Frank Quitley and colorist/inker Jamie Grant. This is a beautiful comic to read and to look at.

All-Star Superman is a self-contained tale with a satisfying over-all arc. But there is a fractured nature to Morrison’s writing style that can be disorienting. Morrison deliberately elides in his telling—skipping over or leaving out crucial parts of the plot, assuming readers will fill in the blanks. I read All-Star Superman pretty fast and will admit to getting tripped up by the story in a few places. Clearly a closer read (or re-read) is required to get everything out of the book.

All quibbles aside, Morrison has written what is probably the best Superman story ever. And his greatest accomplishment here is that he finds a perfect balance between the alien and human qualities of the character. Let’s face it: Superman’s “super-ness” can, at times, make him distant and affectless. After all, how does one relate to a character who is essentially a god? Through the impending death scenario and elegiac tone to the story, Morrison has found a way. He succeeds at making Superman sympathetic and relevant while still maintaining an alien aspect to the character. (In the end, despite all his trials and sacrifices, we never fully know who or what Superman is.) In All-Star Superman, Grant Morrison restores mystery and possibility to one of the best known characters in comics. That’s no easy feat. In fact, it sounds like job for . . . (well, you get it).

The Walking Dead, Volume 1: “Days Gone By” – Robert Kirkman & Tony Moore

I heard good things about this comic so I thought I’d give it a try. Alas, despite its zombie premise, the story was lacking. Writer Kirkman chooses to focus on his characters and their responses to disaster and tragedy rather than re-visit tired old horror tropes. That’s fine, but if Kirkman’s ambition is to transcend the zombie story he has more work to do. The story, about police officer Rick Grimes and the small band of survivors with whom he joins (after a sudden mass zombie attack) relies on interpersonal conflict and character introspection to fuel the drama. But the plot lacks urgency and Kirkman’s attempt at complex character interaction isn’t enough to make it compelling. As it is, Rick meets his fellow survivors and they discuss whether they should stay near Atlanta or move away to the less dangerous countryside. There’s a lot of talking, much of which is repetitious. A brief trip into the city for guns provides some welcome thrills but, for the most part, the story stalls as the characters spend time getting to know one another. There is personal conflict between Rick and his former partner, Shane, but the “surprise” ending (which was nicely foreshadowed) was too abrupt. I’m sure the consequences of this ending are further explored in Volume 2 of The Walking Dead but it would have been nice to have an epilogue in Volume 1. Though I am ambivalent about this series I do see a lot of promise in The Walking Dead. I’d happily read the next couple of volumes, but I’d need to see a stronger story and more sophisticated characterization to go any further.

Richard Stark’s Parker, Book One: The Hunter – Darwyn Cooke

The eponymous protagonist of Parker: The Hunter is a pretty simple character in a pretty simple story: Parker is a hard and violent man who sets out to track down the men who double-crossed and left him for dead during a heist. But simplicity doesn’t keep Parker from being a magnificent rendering of a good, old-fashioned revenge tale. Darwyn Cooke has chosen to adapt the Parker story from a 1962 pot-boiler by Richard Stark (a pseudonym for Donald Westlake). While Parker may not be sympathetic (he tramples everyone who stands between him and revenge) you still root for him because he is brash, daring, and has the odds stacked against him.

The straightforward tale is predictable, of course, but what makes Parker worthwhile is Cooke’s beautiful art. He manages to convey effortless movement from panel-to-panel with his fluid, cinematic style. His composition is bursting with energy and motion, befitting the nature of his hard-boiled tale. Cooke’s stylized character are, essentially, idealized renderings of 1960’s stereotypes—there’s the angular, chiseled looks of Parker, the curvy allure of Parker’s girls, Lynn and Rose, and the pillowy physique of Parker’s nemesis, mob middle-man Mal Resnick. Illustrated in black, white and grey on thick, creamy paper, Parker is a high-quality hardcover and a sensual delight.

Asterios Polyp – David Mazzucchelli

The real highlight of my recent comic reading is David Mazzucchelli’s Asterios Polyp – a superb and unforgettable work of art in which Mazzucchelli displays complete command of his medium. Asterios Polyp is the name of the main character, a middle-aged architect who has lived a passive, listless life—one that is haunted (psychologically) by the presence of his dead-at-birth twin brother, Ignazio. The story begins when Asterios’ home burns down. Left with nothing but the clothes on his back (and three small, but meaningful possessions) Asterios sets out to start life anew and contemplate the various ghosts of his past. His journey of self-discovery alternates with flash-backs about Asterios’ early years and his relationship with, and eventual marriage to, an artist named Hana.

As the story of Asterios and Hana unfolds, Mazzucchelli tackles big philosophical ideas like the nature of identity and the concept of duality. Asterios’ dead brother, Ignazio (the story’s narrator), informs the heart and soul of the book. Asterios cannot move forward in his life, cannot achieve anything of substance until he resolves his “relationship” with the shadow-presence of Ignazio. Doing so is no easy task. Asterios is haunted by alternatives: What if he, and not Ignazio, had died at birth? Whose life is he really living? Can he share his life with a dead doppelganger? Mazzucchelli explores these exhilarating ideas with aplomb. In fact, there’s such a richness to Asterios Polyp, such a masterful control of the material, that I’m finding it difficult to find adequate words to describe the book.

It is clear that Mazzucchelli is at the top of his form. He has harnessed the power of comic story-telling to merge words and movement and abstract concepts in such a way that no other medium could do his unique ideas justice. And it is a book to return to: Heady with ideas, superbly structured, and so delicately layered—so perfectly executed—it demands multiple readings. Asterios Polyp is a masterpiece and one of the best books I’ve read this year.

(For more about Asterios Polyp, check out Scott McCloud’s review here. The book’s deep themes and layered concepts have inspired some to begin annotating the work. This is really the tip of the iceberg; I expect to see much more writing about Asterios Polyp in the future as there are so many puzzles still to solve. Curiously, I haven’t seen anyone talking about the riddle of Asterios’ last name (which we learn was cut in half by an “exasperated Ellis Island official” when Asterios’ father immigrated to the US). What is his true full name? I’m sure I know. The clues are there in the book. Hint: There’s lots of reference to Greek mythology in the story. Follow that lead.) [Whoops! Spoke too soon! A reviewer on Amazon discusses the full name of Asterios Polyp. More clues there.]

Federer Moment

David Foster Wallace called them Federer Moments:

"These are times, as you watch the young Swiss play, when the jaw drops and eyes protrude and sounds are made that bring spouses in from other rooms to see if you’re O.K."

This happened to me as I watched Roger Federer play in the U.S. Open on Sunday. I've never seen anything like it. Take a look.

Novelization of a Film Not Yet Made

Next week we are going to be inundated with hype surrounding Dan Brown's new book (and follow-up to The Da Vinci Code), The Lost Symbol. This is one of those books that's going to be everywhere: the grocery store, the drug store, Blockbuster Video . . . everywhere. In fact, I suspect copies of The Lost Symbol will be especially prominent in places where you don't usually find books. Why? Because The Lost Symbol is a book written for the casual reader--someone who does not frequent bookstores, who does not read book reviews or magazine articles or any kind of non-fiction. Like The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol will be a beach read, an airplane book.

Now, don't get me wrong. I like easy-to-read books from time-to-time. I find it relaxing to read a fast-moving story with simple characters. And if the book contains some puzzles and brain teasers and a dollop of historical conspiracy theory, even better. I read The Da Vinci Code and enjoyed it for its absurd "secret history" and wild theories. But for all its delights, I grew tired of the book's style. It read like a summer movie, complete with action scenes and silly dialog and contrived plot twists. There was an emptiness about it, like a flimsy set dressed with bright and shiny props.

So when I say you're going to see The Lost Symbol for sale at Blockbuster I really believe it. Like so many other bestsellers, it is written for an audience used to watching movies. It will have arch-villains and fast chases and big explosions--all easy to envision because we've seen these things hundreds of times in every formula thriller ever churned out by the big studio factories. There will be no ambiguity and little nuance. The Lost Symbol is a Hollywood book, a perfect example of how one medium has fully encompassed another.

Books and movies have always fed off of one another, or course. And big name authors from Thomas Harris to Michael Crichton have, in the past, essentially pitched films in the forms of novels. (In fact, Crichton's posthumous pirate novel is already being developed as a film.) But it always seemed that past best-sellers, be they Jaws or The Godfather or even Jurassic Park, were written for readers. Now I get the feeling that the audience for many popular books is viewers--people who want to "read a movie." Many books are certainly written that way (even the early Harry Potter books have a big-budget "CGI" feel to them--especially their finales) and so they end up being flat, forgettable, temporary entertainment.

I'm pretty sure that's what The Lost Symbol is going to be. And, yes, there will be a movie. It probably won't big a big hit. But that won't matter: The Lost Symbol will forever live as a rental movie, waiting for the masses at Blockbuster.

Out of the Dark and Dusted Off: Japanese Twin Peaks Board Game

(I wanted to write a proper entry this week but my schedule has been quite busy. Time for some pictures!)

This week I have pics of a stunning Twin Peaks board game.

Back in the day (the early 90's), the Japanese sure loved Twin Peaks. They produced a couple of nice laserdisc box-sets, some beautiful posters, a slick press book for Fire Walk With Me, and scores of other unique items. They also produced a couple of games based on the series. One was an Uno-like card game and the other was this sprawling board game: "The Game of Twin Peaks." Here's the box, measuring 12" x 19":




This box contains many game elements: plastic and cardboard pieces, two decks of cards, a spinner, and three (!) playing boards. I never did figure out how all this stuff worked together but I'm sure it was a damn fine game! Here is a display of all the various game parts:




This is the "map" playing board (it apparently shows a street grid of the town, overlaying a map of the the larger Twin Peaks territory). At 24" x 19" this thing is huge!




Next up is the character-chart board:

Here's the "rock throw" playing board and "mystery" log cardboard pieces (whatever they are):

A nice shot of the saw-blade spinner (which probably told you how many spaces to move), along with donut playing pieces and a bag containing plastic bottle pieces, pawn pieces and other items:

Here are all the cards laid out. The larger, character-profile and location cards are on the left. The smaller, suspect(?) cards are on the right:

The Cooper profile card:

The suspect cards:




One side of the instructions:




Whew! Some game! I'm thinking it's a cross between Clue, Chutes-and-Ladders and Monopoly! Do you think anyone ever played it?

Note: I had originally planned to post these pictures on the Twin Peaks discussion board at Dugpa.com but for whatever reason I never got around to it. If you don't already know, Dugpa.com is an indispensible site for Twin Peaks fans. Equally valuable is "Jerry Horne's" superb Twin Peaks archive site. Give that one a look, too!

Notes and Notions

(I used to call this type of post "Bits and Pieces." I like the new name better.)

Let's start with TV. Mad Men has returned for the third season. Set in the tumultuous year of 1963, this season has started slow. The various storylines (both new and old) have a deliberate pace and succeed at setting mood and tone as they slow ratchet the tension. At this rate it may be season's end before all this tension comes to a head. And speaking of tension, one can't really watch the new season without thinking about the world-shaking events that are soon to occur. The question is: When in the season arc will the Kennedy assassination happen? Will the writers wait for the end or place the tragedy in the middle of the story? Which is the best dramatic choice? Personally, I hope they deal with it sooner rather than later. Right now, watching Mad Men is like watching the first act of any Pearl Harbor story. We're just waiting for the bombs to fall.

I realize I've reduced the subtle and complex drama of Mad Men to rather simplistic terms. The show has never been a historical drama. It's a period piece and good one. The characters and setting are rich and the themes of identity and artifice are wholly integrated into the drama. But the atmosphere of the show has always had a fin de siecle quality. A way of life is ending. Big changes are coming. A modern audience can't help but think of 1963 in this way. I'm sure, then, that the writers will work hard to either make us forget the imminent changes about to befall the characters or satisfactorily make those changes part of the drama. Either way I'll be watching.

(One last note about Mad Men. The show has certainly made me less interested in HBO's True Blood, a series that has all the subtlety of a travelling circus. Compared to Mad Men, True Blood is nothing but melodrama and loud, horny characters. Let's face it: Where Mad Men is delicate, True Blood is gaudy; where Mad Men is nuanced, True Blood is coarse. What's more, True Blood has become increasingly superficial; there's just nothing to care about in the show. (Probably because it's not "about" anything.) I watch it now from a distance and with some impatience. Mad Men, however, fully involves me, emotionally and intellectually.)

Books: I recommend Palimpsest by Catherynne M. Valente -- a beautifully written fantasy about a magical city accessed through dreams. This one was wholly captivating. I also liked Positively Fifth Street by James McManus--an exciting, real world look at high stakes poker. Less interesting was World War Z by Max Brooks, The Magicians by Lev Grossman, and The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. All these books have gotten rave reviews and there is much to like in them. But World War Z lacked any narrative drive (you have to really be into zombie fiction to appreciate it); The Magicians featured a highly unlikeable protagonist who failed (in my opinion) to grow up by the end; and The Knife of Never Letting Go was aimed at a young audience and lacked any kind of subtlety (which is OK, really, but the first-person urgency of the narrative became wearing after a while).

Comics: I've read some great illustrated work over the past two months and I'm saving my reviews for a separate post. Look for it soon.

More on David Foster Wallace: We are approaching the first anniversary of Wallace's death. No doubt we'll be hearing more about Wallace's life and his last, unfinished novel (The Pale King) in the weeks to come. Wisconsin Public Radio has already put together a wonderful tribute which can be found here. Go give it a listen. I cannot recommend this program highly enough (the excerpt of Wallace's Kenyon commencement address alone is worth your time).

A few months ago I clumsily attempted to express what Wallace's loss meant to me. Recently, I found the perfect remembrance of Wallace by Sven Birkerts in Agni. I'm ending this post with his words. Where I stumbled, Birkerts dances:

"We are fortified by the work of our writers, by their specific books, but no less important is the sense we have, so long as they are alive, that they are with us, in our midst, engaged, taken up with seeing and thinking and processing--with writing. They make up an important part of the invisible but pervasive and perceptible sum-total that we recognize as our culture. When they die, we feel a terrible diminution, a suction of available energies withdrawn. As if suddenly we all have that much less purchase on reality. The air feels thinner and our gestures of thought feel heavier, more cumbersome, less part of a common purpose."

Overlooked Books

I just got back from a trip to Armadillocon in Austin and I realized I've been heading down for that con (off and on) for over 20 years! Armadillocon has always been a fun little SF convention with an emphasis on books and reading (which is why I like it so much).

I got to thinking about all the great books I've read in the past few decades and decided to put together a list of genre books that have been either overlooked or forgotten over the years. These are books that I consider top-quality science fiction. Most of them are out of print (but can readily be found online or at local used bookstores--I think I've seen most of these titles at my local Half-Price Books within the last year).

I have a few comments about each book but, to be honest, it's been so long since I read some of them that I can't remember a lot of plot specifics. I do know that each of these books was vastly entertaining. I know also that each provided a thorough sense of wonder, either by introducing me to some new concept or by providing such a well-built plot or setting that I couldn't help but react with awe. So, with further ado . . . .

Memoirs of an Invisible Man by H. F. Saint (1987). Forget the movie and check out the best invisibility story ever written. Nick Halloway is made invisible after a science experiment goes wrong. Even though he can't be seen, Nick learns that when the government is after you, it's pretty hard to stay hidden. This one is a real page-turner. I've always wondered why Saint never wrote another book. Was the name H. F. Saint really a pseudonym for another, better-known writer? I mean, the name seems awfully suspicious. (Does anyone else think of H. G. Wells when they see it?) Oh well. H. F. Saint--whoever you are, wherever you are--I love your one and only book.


Terraplane by Jack Womack (1988). This came out after the big "cyberpunk" boom when fans of that subgenre were looking for something new and original. Along comes Womack with a book that featured savvy tech agents from a corporate-dominant future travelling back in time to an alternate past where FDR was assassinated and slavery didn't end until the beginning of the 20th century. Add to that a wonderful jargon that demands a careful reading and you've got the first "post-cyberpunk" cyberpunk novel. Excellent.


Voyage to The Red Planet by Terry Bisson (1990). There's a heck of a lot of good Mars books out there but few critics mention this minor classic from Bisson. The book is a lighthearted look at a corporate sponsored trip to Mars. (Actually Disney has bought NASA and now wants to make a film on Mars. So of course they send cast and crew on location!) The book has great humor but also really good SF. And it has a wonderful ending. This one really belongs next to Robinson, Bear and Benford in the SF Mars library.

Evolution's Darling by Scott Westerfeld (2000). The closest thing to an Iain M. Banks "Culture" book not written by Iain M. Banks! Evolution's Darling is a sweeping space opera about an AI ("Darling," of the title) that gains sentience and becomes involved (in more ways than one) with Mira, an assassin whose job it is to kill an artist who works (possibly illegally) with AI's. Westerfeld has made quite a name for himself as an author of teen and young adult books (the Uglies and Midnighters series) but this book is explicitly "adult" (emphasis on explicit). But it is also a mature book, one that deals deftly with the themes of sentience and identity. This is high-quality SF.


On by Adam Roberts (2001). This is a book that has really stayed with me. The premise of the story is that, once-upon-a-time, gravity on Earth turned sideways. (I know, sounds weird, but Roberts includes a whole appendix that spells out the possible science behind the idea.) Anyway, the flat ground suddenly became a world-size vertical plane. (The book's opening line perfectly establishes this dangerous setting: "On Tighe's eighth birthday one of the family goats fell off the world.") The story echoes the books of Gene Wolfe in that it features a young male protagonist who finds himself on a journey of discovery, soon learning that the world is far more interesting, dangerous, and technological than he ever expected. The book's concept is quite unsettling. What if the world did turn sideways? Friends and family who live but a few miles from you would suddenly become inaccessible (if they even survived the initial disaster). This is one of those books you keep thinking about long after you've finished it.

OK, so that's five books. I see I have ten-year gap in my list. Not to worry, I've got more overlooked books to talk about. But they'll have to wait for another post.