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The House That Jack Built – An Interview with Alan Moore (2002)
An interview with Alan Moore, comics legend and creator of the epic Jack the Ripper graphic novel From Hell.
Originally published in What DVD, October 2002
“Murder’s an extreme human event of a kind that doesn’t happen to most of us. It’s a little apocalypse… where social constraints, all the barriers of the world have suddenly fallen away and there’s something immensely powerful and primeval going on;- something able to affect society, and send out ripples. It struck me that if you observed an intense human event like murder in enough detail, you might be able to make some broader conclusions about the world in which it happened.”
The name Jack the Ripper holds a host of associations, most of them involving buxom prostitutes being stalked through foggy Whitechapel streets by a menacing figure in a cloak and top hat. It’s over a hundred years since the five brutal murders in London’s East End, and thanks to the lack of a definite culprit and the rise of the early tabloid press, the killings have lodged in the collective consciousness and taken on a life of their own. Most of the popular retellings of the Ripper killings bear little resemblance to reality, and every few years a new book appears claiming to hold the definitive “unmasking” of the infamous serial murderer.
FROM HELL, however, is something different. A massive graphic novel by British writer Alan Moore, who’s been creating highly acclaimed and breathtaking comics such as WATCHMEN, V FOR VENDETTA and SWAMP THING for the past twenty years, FROM HELL is an intensely researched examination of the Jack the Ripper murders, taking one particularly lurid theory concerning the killings, and using this as a backdrop to paint a harrowing social history of London in the 1880s. An absorbing and deeply unsettling read which goes out of it’s way to present a realistic view of life in the Victorian age, it combines a chilly, detached documentary style with bursts of hallucinatory menace and unflinchingly brutal recreations of the Ripper’s crimes.
“It started from wanting to do a lengthy comic book about a murder.” says Moore, “Something with enough scope to treat it properly- instead of regarding it as a standard murder mystery, where once you’ve got a forensic solution and ticked off the boxes on your Cluedo scorecard, the case is solved. I wanted a holistic view, to examine the murder as happening within a whole system, and the kind of effects it can have on society.”
“Initially, I disregarded Jack the Ripper;- too played out and obvious. This was at the end of 1988 though, on the centenary of the Ripper murders, and while I looked at other possibilities there was this sudden barrage of material on the Ripper;- most of it very unsatisfying… but it did make me start considering if there was something which would allow for a different way of telling this familiar story.”
The way was found in JACK THE RIPPER- THE FINAL SOLUTION by Stephen Knight (1987), a book which details a complex theory and alleges that the five prostitutes killed were victims of a conspiracy of Freemasons to cover up the existence of an illegitimate Royal baby, and were murdered by the Queen’s Surgeon, Sir William Withey Gull. “Once I read the florid and fabulous allegations in Knight’s book, I thought ‘This has got the bones of something’,” says Moore, “and then I read everything on the subject I could find, starting to put it all together into this huge edifice. I was fitting in all kinds of different stuff into the story- about the architecture of London, and Nicholas Hawksmoor, the Freemasons, the Dionysiac architects, patterns in time… and as the story grew, my understanding of the murders grew as well. The original idea was so elastic that if some new material surfaced, as it occasionally did, it could be slotted into the story with very little difficulty.”
The result is an intensely researched fiction, not afraid to place particular interpretations on the detailed evidence, but also including as many theories and possibilities as Moore could get away with. “In fact, I was unnerved and amazed by the amount of confirming “evidence” that turned up to support my “theory”, precisely because I knew it wasn’t a theory: it was fiction. I really didn’t want to put a toe into the inviting pool of “the truth”, because Truth is a well-documented pathological liar. Self-proclaimed fiction, on the other hand, is entirely honest- it says “I’m a Liar” right there on the dust jacket. If I read a biography of Tony Blair, at the end of it I still wouldn’t know where I stood with him. I do, however, know where I stand with Hannibal Lecter and the Wizard of Oz.”
Following the terrifying “mission” of Dr Gull, as well as the attempts by Inspector Fred Abberline to solve the crimes, FROM HELL is an examination of the Ripper phenomenon and the Victorian era itself, rather than simply about the Ripper. An atmosphere of grimy reality pervades the book, assisted ably by the dark and atmospheric artwork of the Australian-based independent comic artist Eddie Campbell. “I knew I wanted something that wasn’t an ordinary comics style,” says Moore of his collaborator, “and once the idea came up, I really couldn’t think of anyone other than Eddie for the book.”
“I’ve heard less-informed people describe his art as scratchy, or unfinished and unrealistic, and these are generally people whose idea of realism is over-rendered superhero comics. Eddie’s stuff is actually very realistic, because when you look at things in life they don’t have a fine line drawn around them, every detail is not immediately apparent. He creates an incredibly believable naturalism and all the scenes look like they’re taking place in the same world;- there’s no sudden excursion into “Horror World”. If the characters are having sex, or buying a candle at the corner shop, or having a conversation, or ritually disembowelling a prostitute…. it all happens in the same absolutely credible world.”
The choice of Eddie Campbell affected the whole visual language of the story, and is one of the reasons why FROM HELL manages to create such an effective sense of unease. “The thinking behind the choice of Eddie is probably best illustrated by the old British boys comic ACTION. It was kind of a pre-2000AD which was very violent, and one of the strips in it was a lame JAWS knock-off called HOOKJAW. The original artist on this was very much in the in-your face, grue and gore EC tradition;- if the script for a severed arm to be found on the beach, then the way he’d draw it would be to have your point of view down in the sand, and the bloody stump thrust up in the foreground towards you so that you could see every glistening vein and fractured bone… and all the horrified people would be staring down with exaggerated expressions of terror.”
“While it’s all good fun, there’s something about that which signals straight away that you’re now in “Horror Comic world”. When you see the severed heads and the gore, the effect is pretty much the same as in a contemporary horror film. You know that it’s all ketchup, that it’s grand guignol, and you don’t take it seriously.”
“On this HOOKJAW strip, the original artist was replaced by someone who’d only previously worked upon the British girl’s comics of the period- which were always very sedate stories about the three pluckiest girls in the Lower Fourth. The visual storytelling would always be pretty well unvarying middle distance shots of people standing around talking, and the range of emotions on their faces and their body language was very limited in comparison to what was allowed in action or horror strips. If he was asked to draw a severed arm on the beach, it would be a middle-distance shot, and there would be a group of people, none of them reacting them much, which would give an eerie air of credibility to the scene, staring down on this little strip of coastline at a human arm lying there in the sand. There was something about the detachment of that which made it ten times more horrible, because it wasn’t saying “horror film” it was saying “girls adventure story”… and then there’s a severed arm on the beach. And it struck me that with Eddie Campbell you could get much the same kind of effect.”
This detachment is shown to the full during the most disturbing aspects of the book;- the graphic and detailed reconstructions of the Ripper murders. Gruesome in the extreme, they’re a harrowing read, particularly in Chapter 10, which shows in intense detail the last killing and the mutilation that follows. The scenes are horrific and disturbing in their treatment, and have resulted in the series being banned in a number of countries, but Moore maintains this full-on treatment was the only possible way of doing it. “Most of the treatments of the Ripper murders in the past have verged on the pornographic- there are so many cliches used, and most of them are there to “dress it up” and make it exciting. I can’t be the only person who thinks doing that is completely inappropriate when you’re talking about the murder of a woman in a miserable backstreet of Whitechapel.”
Moore’s aim was to recreate the murders as closely as possible, and he did a massive amount of research to describe them from the point of view of the murderer and the victim, without making the sequences voyeuristic. “The first four murders don’t take very long;- they’re sudden, brutal, and they happen as closely as possible to the way they were described forensically. The final killing- Marie Kelly- is the emblematic Ripper murder, the one everyone remembers. To get it right, I knew I was going to have to go into that room in Miller’s Court with the reader, and stay there as long as the Ripper did. He was there for a couple of hours, and I was going to have to try to reconstruct those couple of hours in painful detail.”
“It wasn’t something I was looking forward to, but I felt that in order to be respectful to the women and the circumstance that I was fictionalising… I had to show it exactly as it was, so that any “armchair murderers” in the audience would be made aware of exactly what it was like spending two hours in an overheated, stifling little East End flat cutting up a woman, and to do it in a way which was not glamorous or at all exciting. I wanted to make it into the kind of apocalyptic scene that I felt it was, and to make it a scene of the cultural importance I felt it was. There’s a quote from Gull just after that scene where he says that he has “delivered the Twentieth Century”, and in a sense it was a kind of ghastly nativity. That was where the Twentieth Century was born… in that little room in Millers Court, in November 1888.
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The Star Wars Effect (2007)
The Films and TV that were influenced and shaped by George Lucas’ classic sci-fi adventure
Originally published as a separate book with the May 2007 issue of DVD Review
(A brief note: This article was written to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the original Star Wars – and the idea was to explore the 30 films and TV shows that were directly (or indirectly) influenced by ‘A New Hope’. The book was co-written by Jayne Nelson, and we essentially wrote half each – what’s printed below is my half, and fifteen movies worth. Enjoy!)
SPACEBALLS
Year Released: 1987
Director: Mel Brooks
Starring: Mel Brooks, Rick Moranis, Bill Pullman, Daphne Zuniga, John CandyModern films are mocked and parodied almost as soon as they’ve hit the silver screen – but despite Star Wars changing the face of cinema, a decade had to pass before a filmmaker finally took comical pot-shots at it. Mel Brooks’ gleefully silly, hit-and-miss satire Spaceballs hi-jacks enough of the story and look of Episode IV to be recognisable, while still throwing in his own brand of goof-ball comedy and some fantastically groan-worthy gags.
It’s the saga of the evil Spaceballs, led by the diminutive Dark Helmet (Rick Moranis in over-sized Darth Vader-style headgear) and President Skroob (Brooks), who are out to steal the atmosphere of neighbouring planet Druidia. To do this, they’ve got to kidnap Princess Vespa (Daphne Zuniga), but standing in their way are the spoof versions of Han and Chewie- Lone Star (Bill Pullman), and his half-man, half-dog sidekick Barf (John Candy).
Add a bewigged C3PO-esque robot voiced by Joan Rivers, a space-fairing Winnebago with wings, and gags targeting everything from Star Trek and Alien to Planet of the Apes, and you’ve got a deliriously silly space-age spoof. It doesn’t quite equal Brooks’ brilliant Western satire Blazing Saddles, but still offers plenty of daft giggles, as well as more affection for its target than you’d expect. The jokes range from the groaningly obvious- a corpulent alien gangster called Pizza the Hutt, a short mystic called Yoghurt who teaches Lone Star the ways of “The Schwartz”- to the brilliantly left-field, where a lightsabre fight accidentally kills one of the film crew, and the movie is gradually invaded by its own fake merchandise (“Spaceballs: The Flame Thrower!”).
Brooks also understood the importance of a spoof being accurate, and the effects work is surprisingly good for the time, as well as featuring plenty of gags (such as the opening shot of a gigantic, Star Destroyer-like craft cruising endlessly past the camera, finally revealing a bumper sticker: WE BRAKE FOR NOBODY). Knockabout enough for kids and with enough loopy left-field humour for adults, Spaceballs is trademark Brooks lunacy with the kind of light-hearted goofiness that many modern-day spoofs could learn from. May the Schwartz be with you…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: Brooks asked George Lucas’ permission before going ahead and spoofing Star Wars- and was told he could, as long as there wasn’t any merchandise generated from the film.
2: The lightsabres used in the climactic duel between Lone Star and Dark Helmet were actually constructed by Lucas’ special effects company Industrial Light and Magic.
3: One of the apes in the Planet of the Apes gag is voiced by Michael York, an actor who’s been in everything from Austin Powers to 70s sci-fi spectacular Logan’s Run.
4: While playing the part of ‘Schwartz’ master Yoghurt, Brooks had a major allergic reaction to the make-up, meaning all of the scenes had to be shot out of sequence.
INDEPENDENCE DAY
Year Released: 1996
Director: Roland Emmerich
Starring: Bill Pullman, Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum, Mary McDonnell, Judd HirschMovie sci-fi might have fallen into a rut in the early Nineties, but by 1996 it was back in full force, and there was ironclad proof thanks to the first major SF blockbuster in years to truly rule the box-office. Delivering the kind of daffy, escapist thrills that up until then had been the realm of Spielberg and Lucas, producer/director team Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich brought the Fifties-style Alien invasion flick kicking and screaming into the present day, and set off a tidal wave of sci-fi epics and copycats in the process.
The story, summed up succinctly in the trailers- “Day 1: They Arrive, Day 2: They Attack, Day 3: We Fight Back…”- is simplicity itself, as fifteen-mile-wide flying saucers appear across the planet, and are soon blowing the living hell out of every famous landmark in sight, from the Empire State Building to the White House. Demolishing entire cities, it’s up to a gang of plucky survivors, led by heroic President Bill Pullman, pilot Will Smith and techno-genius Jeff Goldbum, to counter-attack the evil tentacled hordes, and also sort out their tangled personal lives in the process.
From the thrilling dogfights between the US jets and the enemy fighters, to the final journey into the aliens’ colossal, Death Star-sized mothership, the film wears its Star Wars influences proudly, but also references Spielberg’s moviemaking (especially with Randy Quaid channelling John Belushi’s nutty pilot from 1941). It even uses the same casting method Spielberg employed with Jurassic Park, populating the film with decent B-level actors (Yes- there was a time when Will Smith wasn’t a star…) and therefore freeing up most of the budget on the all-important special effects.
There are obvious nods to Fifties sci-fi, with the sequence showing an attempted nuclear attack on one of the Saucers being a direct lift from 1953’s The War of the Worlds- but Independence Day’s biggest storytelling debt is to cheesy Seventies Disaster movies, especially the actor-stuffed epics of producer Irwin Allen, such as The Towering Inferno and The Poseidon Adventure.
So, even with a death toll in the millions, we’re more worried about whether Goldblum will make up with his estranged wife and White House press secretary Margaret Colin, or if Will Smith will be reunited with his stripper girlfriend Vivacia A. Fox. Astutely keeping most of the death offscreen (especially when First Lady (and future Galactica President) Mary McDonnell expires), it’s the kind of film where a towering wall of fiery destruction can be out-run by a plucky golden retriever, and where the Aliens’ computer system is so fiendishly constructed that anyone with a laptop can tap into it.
Realism is an early casualty, and decent dialogue is fairly close behind (with even the much-spoofed disaster movie line “I picked a hell of a day to quit drinking” making an appearance), but who cares when you’ve got New York, Washington and L.A. being pulverised into rubble? Painting fiery apocalyptic destruction on a level that simply hadn’t been seen before, what’s most surprising is that Independence Day is actually one of the last blockbusters to achieve most of its effects through the traditional means created by ILM for Star Wars. CGI was used for the saucer’s destruction beams, but everything else was done with detailed models, using digital effects only to paste the multiple layers together, and resulting in a level of scale and realism CGI simply wasn’t up to achieving in 1997.
Not only did Independence Day clean up at the box office, but it also turned out to be massively influential, with cinemas soon crammed full of CGI-enhanced updates of old fashioned disaster movie formats. Everything from tidal waves to volcanoes and asteroids was unleashed upon unsuspecting audiences, but most of these carbon copies didn’t get close to Independence Day’s success- including Devlin and Emmerich’s deeply unwise attempt to turn Japanese monster icon Godzilla into a big-chinned CGI lizard. After the events of September 11, 2001, the appetite for watching cities being trashed at the cinema understandably reduced, but while the Big Dumb Disaster movie may be out of fashion, Independence Day is still a shamelessly entertaining, nonsensically patriotic mix of thrills, effects, and good old-fashioned Hollywood cheese.
DID YOU KNOW?
1: The effect of the flames travelling down the streets was achieved by tilting a model on its side- the camera was at the top, and explosives were placed at the bottom.
2: The line “Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!” from the President’s speech wasn’t in the script, and was put in to hopefully avoid a legal battle over the title.
3: Friends star Matthew Perry was originally supposed to play the part of Jimmy “Raven” Wilder, but dropped out just before filming began, and the part was taken by Harry Connick Jr.
4: Another budgetary saving was made thanks to the sets of the White House, the submarine and the Stealth Bombers actually being re-used from The American President, Crimson Tide, and Broken Arrow.
5: Production designer Patrick Tatopoulos came up with two designs for the aliens- and Roland Emmerich liked them so much he used both, as the alien and the biomechanical suit the aliens wear.
6: Originally Randy Quaid’s character was supposed to fly his crop duster in the final battle with the aliens, but the resulting footage was laughed at by test audiences, and quickly reshot.
7: In a similar move to The Lord of the Rings movies years later, the miniatures were constructed on a gigantic scale, with the alien saucer model being a massive 65 feet wide.
8: Due to budgetary limitations, only one Jet fighter model was built- and multiple explosions were created by blowing it up, and filming the explosion from a number of different angles.
2010
Year Released: 1984
Director: Peter Hyams
Starring: Roy Scheider, John Lithgow, Helen Mirren, Bob Balaban, Keir DulleaSequels are hard enough at the best of times- but trying to follow up one of the most notoriously impenetrable sci-fi movies of all time is downright dangerous. It’s just as well, then, that director Peter Hyams’ follow-up to Stanley Kubrick’s classic 1968 brain-bender 2001: A Space Odyssey didn’t try replicating the original’s trippy nature, instead adapting Odyssey co-writer Arthur C. Clarke’s novel sequel into an engaging mix of hard sci-fi and nuts-and-bolts space adventure.
Science fiction in 1984 was still coasting on Star Wars’ success, and Hyams had a whole selection of special effects techniques to play with, meaning 2010 placed as much emphasis on funky techno-spectacle as on the ideas behind it. The story picks up nine years after 2001, with Doctor Heywood Floyd (a minor character in the first film, here played by Jaws star Roy Scheider) finally making the journey to Jupiter and the abandoned spacecraft Discovery to try and find out the truth behind the murder spree of supercomputer HAL 9000, and the mysterious disappearance of astronaut Dave Bowman (Keir Dullea).
This being a pre-Glasnost version of the future, Floyd hitches a ride through space with a gang of imperious Russians (headed by our own future Dame Helen Mirren, no less), and the Yanks and Ruskies naturally have to eventually set aside their differences and work together in order to survive. The politics may have dated, but the central ideas of 2010 are strong, and it’s still rare to see a sci-fi flick trying hard to stick to genuine scientific fact. Hyams does his best to weld Kubrick’s rigorous detail with a Star Wars-style sense of wonder at the hugeness and potential of deep space, and for the most part manages to pull it off. He even tips a nod at the weirder elements of 2001 as a ghost-like Dullea returns with a warning, and all the Discovery sets from the original film are perfectly recreated. Add Third Rock From The Sun’s John Lithgow on top form as a grumpy Engineer, and you’ve got an impressive space adventure right the way through to its cosmic, planet-busting climax.
DID YOU KNOW?
1: Arthur C. Clarke makes a cameo appearance in the film, feeding bread to some pigeons outside the White House, while Floyd is planning his mission to the Discovery.
2: One of the first Internet lines outside the academic community was set up so that Peter Hyams could communicate with the Sri Lanka-based Arthur C. Clarke during the screenwriting process.
3: On one of the fake covers for Time Magazine shown in the film, the picture of the Soviet premier is actually 2001: A Space Oddyssey director Stanley Kubrick.
4: The film’s music was originally supposed to be written by Tony Banks from rock band Genesis, but his soundtrack was dropped, and David Shire was brought in to score the film.
THE MATRIX
Year Released: 1999
Directors: Larry and Andy Wachowski
Starring: Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, Carrie-Anne Moss, Hugo Weaving, Joe PantolianoIt was the end of the second millennium, and sci-fi geeks across the world were waiting for one thing- a film that would redefine onscreen SF, thrill them beyond measure, and take them back to the sheer excitement Episode IV had created back in 1977. As it turned out, they got exactly what they expected- except the name of the film wasn’t The Phantom Menace. The jury may still be out on whether Episode I is frothy fun or a galactic, Jar-Jar-afflicted bore, but what can’t be denied is 1999 was the most seismic year in onscreen sci-fi since Star Wars erupted onto the scene, and it was all thanks to The Matrix.
Created by a pair of screenwriter brothers whose only previous directing work was lesbian-chic noir thriller Bound, The Matrix was a film nobody expected to like- especially since Keanu Reeves’ last dabble in ‘virtual reality’ thrillers had been the disastrous cyberpunk adaptation Johnny Mnemonic (1995). As it turned out, however, the Wachowskis had created a dense and multi-layered philosophical action saga so extravagantly exciting, nobody seemed to mind that they’d hi-jacked massive chunks of their dark apocalyptic saga from Japanese animation, The Terminator, the works of Blade Runner author Phillip K. Dick, old kung-fu flicks, and a dozen other sources.
A story where the ‘real world’ is an illusion perpetrated by evil insectoid machines, and where only a small number of super-powered freedom fighters know the truth, it’s a thrilling, imaginative adventure that melds Jean-Paul Sartre with John Woo, and left cinema audiences reeling with astonishment. As Reeves’ Neo peels back the layers of reality, learns the truth about his machine-controlled existence and says ‘Whoah’ a lot, the film also ends up owing much of its mythic structure to the same pattern followed by the original Star Wars trilogy.
Like Luke Skywalker, Neo is plucked out of a dull life into a world of adventure, trained up by a wise mentor, ends up battling against the bad guys, and is presented with a choice where he has to put himself in danger for the greater good. Admittedly, Luke didn’t deal with his problems in Episode V by strolling into Cloud City dressed in a trenchcoat and blowing the crap out of everyone within range, but the principle’s the same, and it’s the classic storytelling at the heart of The Matrix that makes it such an engaging, universal story.
It also helped that The Matrix featured one of the best villains since Vader wheezed his way onscreen. With the moves of Bruce Lee and the voice of a Fifties Newscaster, sentient program Agent Smith is an incredible adversary who, thanks to Hugo Weaving’s stony-faced performance, almost hi-jacks the movie away from the stunning visuals. That he doesn’t quite manage it is a testament to the still jaw-dropping special effects, and while the classic ‘Bullet-Time’ sequences may now have been parodied to death, in 1999, they were the epoch-shaking equivalent of Episode IV’s opening Star Destroyer shot, and made it seem like we were entering a saga where anything was possible.
Sadly, of course, it all went rather wrong. After riding the crest of the Phantom Menace backlash in 1999, the Wachowskis got a taste of their own medicine when, in 2003, their hugely anticipated back-to-back sequels Matrix Reloaded and Matrix Revolutions turned out to be pretentious messes. Yes, there was plenty of groundbreaking action, but both movies were also far too ambitious for their own good, introducing dozens of characters nobody cared about, and cranking the philosophy up to brain-aching levels. Worst offender for this was the infamous ‘Architect’ sequence, which was supposed to explain the secret behind the Matrix, and instead left audiences worldwide scratching their heads in confusion.
Without the classic structure of the original movie, the Wachowskis were lost, and thanks to the spectacular but underwhelming climax, the Matrix ended not with a bang, but with a whimper. What it didn’t do, however, was take away from the first movie’s achievement, and while the trilogy might be a mess, The Matrix itself can still hold its head up proudly as one of Episode IV’s only true rivals, and a film that truly expanded the limits of what cinematic sci-fi could achieve.
DID YOU KNOW?
1: The Matrix actually bears a strong resemblance to anarchic comic book saga The Invisibles, to the extent that the comic’s writer, Grant Morrison, was seriously considering legal action.
2: A number of sets from sci-fi thriller Dark City (which shares certain themes with The Matrix) were re-used in the film, including the rooftops that Trinity runs across in the opening sequence.
3: The film’s casting went through plenty of changes – Johnny Depp was the Wachowski’s first choice for Neo, while both Val Kilmer and Sean Connery were offered Morpheus, but turned it down.
4: The ‘Bullet Time’ effect wasn’t actually invented for The Matrix- it had been used several years previously in adverts by director Michel Gondry, and was refined by the Matrix F/X team.
5: All the maps shown in the film, most of the signage and the street names suggest that the city setting (at least in the first movie) is Chicago, the Wachowski’s home town.
6: The ‘Woman in Red’ sequence- where Morpheus takes Neo through a simulation of the Matrix- features a massive number of identical twins, to suggest the idea of a repeating program.
7: The film was nearly shut-down as a result of the sequence with Neo and Morpheus dangling from a helicopter, because the copter accidentally strayed into restricted airspace.
8: The bizarre footage seen on a TV during the film of giant rabbits bounding along a road is a genuine sci-fi B-movie made in 1972 called Night of the Lepus.
THE BLACK HOLE
Year Released: 1979
Director: Gary Nelson
Starring: Robert Foster, Maximillian Schell, Anthony Perkins, Ernest Borgenine, Roddy McDowellThe biggest sign of sci-fi’s explosive popularity in the late Seventies was when the Walt Disney company looked at Star Wars’ success and said “Hmmm- maybe we’ll have some of that!” What they eventually served up to the general public was a loose SF remake of their fifties live-action classic 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, but hurled into the darkness of outer space with all the cute robots, killer droids and stately special effects you could ever wish for.
It’s the story of the crew of the good ship Palomino as they encounter the gigantic, long-lost spacecraft USS Cygnus parked on the edge of a Black Hole in space. Investigating the colossal ship, they find that the only human onboard is the eminently potty scientist Reinhardt (Schell), who’s been there for twenty years, with his own evil Vader-esque pet robot named Maximillian, and a ship full of droid servants. Already doing well in the evil genius stakes, Reinhardt welcomes the new arrivals, and is soon politely suggesting the Palomino crew accompany him for a journey into the gravity-defying Black Hole- or else.
Played with the determined seriousness of 2001, and occasionally livened up by comic relief from flying robot Vincent (a combination of R2-D2 and C3PO, voiced by Roddy McDowell), it’s a gloriously po-faced film that almost completely misses out on the sense of frothy fun that Lucas captured in Star Wars. Even the impressive cast, featuring Ernest Borgenine and ex-Psycho Anthony Perkins, are on the seriously stiff side, but if The Black Hole doesn’t deliver in terms of story, it’s still a surprisingly impressive spectacle. There’s a thrilling, graceful music score from classic Bond composer John Barry that rivals anything John Williams has done, and the effects work is fantastic, featuring pioneering matte work for the time, along with a whole selection of sweeping model shots and funky design. All the way through to the fabulously perplexing, psychedelic climax, it’s beautifully designed sci-fi eye candy- although someone should have told the director that making a Black Hole look more dramatic by painting it red was bending the laws of physics a little too far…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: As with many other films, The Black Hole had to be retitled when released in some foreign countries- especially Russia, where the title is actually an obscene phrase…
2: In the original script, the whole film was supposed to take place in a weightless, zero-gravity environment, but budgetary restrictions meant that idea had to be swiftly dropped.
3: Dr. Strangelove star Slim Pickens is responsible for voicing the battered droid Old Bob – and neither he nor Roddy McDowell are listed on the film’s opening or closing credits.
4: The wireframe graphics shown over the movie’s title sequence may be rather basic, but are also the longest computer graphics sequence ever seen in a movie at that time.
THE LAST STARFIGHTER
Year Released: 1984
Director: Nick Castle
Starring: Lance Guest, Dan O’Herlihy, Catherine Mary Stewart, Robert Preston, Norman SnowThere wasn’t a teenager in the early Eighties who didn’t dream at least once of getting to do a Luke Skywalker, escape their dull lives, and adventure off into a world of intergalactic action- but, for all those dreamers, there was an answer in the form of The Last Starfighter. Combining two win-win concepts- space fantasy and video games- it’s a gleeful comic strip that’s a Star Wars for the arcade generation, as well as the first film to truly point the way towards the CGI-heavy blockbusters of today.
Plot-wise, things are fairly thin- Alex Rogan (Lance Guest) is desperate to escape his mundane trailer-park life, and the only relief he finds is playing the Starfighter arcade game. Then, he’s abruptly whisked off into outer space, and discovers the game is actually a training device designed to find pilots to fight in a major intergalactic war. He might initially balk at being called up to kick the arse of the villainous Xur and the Ko-Dan Armada, but eventually, with a single ship available to stand against the oncoming hordes, he’s the only one who can save the galaxy.
It’s the kind of daft, cheesy space adventure that highlights how well George Lucas did this kind of fairy-tale fantasy by not being anywhere near as good, and the design has a ludicrously dated Buck Rogers feel, with no computer being complete without rows and rows of flashing light. At the least, it’s good-natured, comic-strip fun with a couple of surprisingly gruesome shocks but the main draw is the use of computer graphics. CGI had made its first cinematic appearance two years earlier in Tron (ironically, another computer game-themed movie), but it was The Last Starfighter that first used digital images to achieve the spacecraft, the landscapes- in fact, every special effect aside from make-up and the numerous explosions. The graphics may now be stunningly quaint, but they give the film the sense of big-scale comic strip action it desperately needs- and also points the way towards Lucas finally embracing the digital revolution seventeen years later with The Phantom Menace.
DID YOU KNOW?
1: The four-gun design of the Gun-Star ships was a big influence on the Star Fury fighters in the TV series Babylon 5, which were also realised via CGI.
2: Lance Guest’s film career never really took off- his only other role was as Michael Brody in the spectacularly awful Jaws: The Revenge, and he now works mainly in television.
3: Wil Wheaton, aka Wesley Crusher from Star Trek: The Next Generation played one of the kids at the trailer park, but his role was cut from the final edit.
4: In what’s possibly the most unexpected theatrical adaptation of recent years, The Last Starfighter was turned into an off-Broadway musical in 2004, and played to some suprirsingly good reviews.
SATURN 3
Year Released: 1980
Director: Stanley Donen
Starring: Kirk Douglas, Farrah Fawcett, Harvey KeitelTake the stars of Spartacus, the Charlie’s Angels TV series, and Reservoir Dogs, throw them together with the director of Singin’ in the Rain, and what you end up with is possibly the oddest of all the movies to emerge from the post-Star Wars sci-fi boom. A British space psycho-thriller with a screenplay from novelist Martin Amis, the Lucas influences are obvious right from the opening shot of a very big spacecraft passing ultra-slowly across the screen, although the kinkier aspects of both the script and the design owe a bigger debt to Ridley Scott’s Alien.
It’s the tale of two researchers on the third moon of Saturn, played by Kirk Douglas and Farrah Fawcett, who spend their lives researching hydroponics and wearing suspect fashions, until the arrival of military officer Harvey Keitel. He’s there to deliver the latest robot in the ‘Demi-God’ series- an eight-foot tall hydraulic humanoid called Hector, who’ll be taking over the management of the station once he’s fully programmed. Unfortunately, Keitel is both an imposter and a dangerous psycho, who’s soon obsessing over Fawcett, and then makes the mistake of imprinting his brain-patterns onto Hector’s blank slate of a mind.
The end result is one seriously deranged and desire-crazed robot, who’s soon causing a surprising amount of mayhem and gore, as well as one scene of gratuitous nudity from the then-64 year old Douglas the world could easily have done without. Plenty of Saturn 3 qualifies for the ‘so bad it’s good’ rating, and yet there’s also lots to admire, from the kooky design, to the lush soundtrack from Elmer Bernstein that fuses John Williams with electro-funk, and especially its mechanical villain. A world away from the blocky dustbins and men-in-suit droids of Episode IV, Hector is a realistically clunky mass of hydraulic pipes, wires and circuits that exudes a considerable amount of menace. Achieved in the pre-CGI days by a mixture of camera tricks and puppetry, it’s a precursor to the mechanical effects in The Terminator, and Hector scores as one of cinema’s more distinctive robots- even if he never accelerates beyond a brisk stroll…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: Anyone watching Saturn 3 who thinks that Harvey Keitel sounds peculiar with an English accent would be right- all of his dialogue was actually dubbed by English actor Roy Dotrice.
2: Saturn 3 was to be the directorial debut of John Barry (no relation to the composer), the production designer of Episode IV and Superman, but he was replaced early into filming by Donen.
3: The robotic form of Hector was dreamed up by Special Effects designer Colin Chilvers, and its organic structure was heavily modelled on an anatomical drawing by Leonardo Da Vinci.
4: A fantasy sequence that involved Farrah Fawcett being put in a skimpy PVC jumpsuit- for tasteful, artistic reasons, of course- was shot, but eventually left out of the film’s final edit.
RED DWARF
Year Released: 1988-1999
Director: Various
Starring: Craig Charles, Chris Barrie, Danny John-Jules, Robert Llewellyn, Norman LovettPlenty of post-Star Wars sci-fi has been influenced by the Original Trilogy if only by reacting against it- and there’s little better to counter Lucas’ fairy tale optimism than the downbeat lunacy of surreal sitcom Red Dwarf. Building a long-running sci-fi franchise around a concept described as “Steptoe and Son in Space” wasn’t easy, and nobody who saw the show’s first low-budget run back in 1988 would ever have predicted the eight-season saga that was going to follow.
Largely co-written and overseen by writers Rob Grant and Doug Naylor, the late-Eighties BBC show began as a small-scale, character based slice of nuttiness set on the massive mining craft Red Dwarf. The story follows Dave Lister (Craig Charles), who wakes from suspended animation to find that three million years have passed, the rest of the crew is dead, and the only company he now has is a hologram of his deceased bunkmate Arnold Rimmer (Chris Barrie), a creature who evolved from the Ship’s cat (Danny John-Jules), and the semi-senile supercomputer Holly (Norman Lovett).
For two seasons, Red Dwarf ploughed it’s own distinctive furrow, building a small but loyal cult audience, and centering most of its humour around the clash between everyman slob Lister and the terminally neurotic Rimmer. Lacking a hefty budget, most of the adventures were like a blue-collar cross between Star Wars, Alien and anarchic sitcom The Young Ones, with the crew voyaging into virtual realities, encountering manifestations of their own Confidence and Paranoia, or entering a parallel universe and meeting their own female alter-egos (resulting in Lister inadvertently making himself pregnant…)
The third season in 1989, however, saw a steep increase in the budget, and suddenly the special effects improved, the all-grey sets were swapped for funkier, more technological environments, and cleaning mech Kryten- who originally appeared at the beginning of season 2, played by David Ross- was added permanently to the cast in the form of actor Robert Llewellyn. With shape-changing, emotion-devouring mutants, body-swaps, shuttle crashes and a visit to a backwards reality, this was where the popularity of the boys from the Dwarf began to sky-rocket- and also, arguably, the point where the show reached its creative peak.
The fourth and fifth seasons got ever-more ambitious, imaginative and spectacular, but also started to prove, in the same way as the Star Wars prequel trilogy, that bigger budgets and improved special effects don’t always equal better. The show was never less than entertaining, featuring plenty of classics like the appearance of Rimmer’s heroic, Top Gun-style alter-ego Ace, and the episode where the characters were all apparently killed, only to discover that their lives up until then had been an immersive computer game. However, the ratio of great episodes to less memorable began to decrease, the ideas started to get repetitive, and some episodes were even given tidy moral messages, particularly the clumsy anti-war fourth season adventure ‘Meltdown’.
From there onwards, the show went into a serious decline, with co-creator Rob Grant leaving the series, and star Chris Barrie briefly jumping ship in Season 7, although he was persuaded back for the largely forgettable Season 8. Left on a flat cliffhanger, the story was potentially going to be continued or reworked in a big-budget film – but despite plenty of rumours, the Red Dwarf movie is still firmly stuck in the bowels of Development Hell.
At the peak of its popularity in the early Nineties, however, the show was arguably the most successful (and virtually the only) British sci-fi show on TV, eclipsing the then-dormant Doctor Who, and generally being hip and cool enough to be the SF series it was okay to like. Along with this, there was a torrent of merchandise, a sequence of novels written by Grant and Naylor that did a fine job of expanding the show’s universe, and even an unwise Lucas-style ‘remastering’ of early episodes with new CGI effects, which proved so unpopular that they’ve been buried since and left off the recent DVD releases. In short, Red Dwarf kept the SF flag flying even when everybody else seemed to have given up the ghost, as well as coming up with more creative uses of the word “Smeg” than the mind can comfortably contemplate…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: Before being recast in seasons 7 and 8 as Chloe Annet, the character of Kristine Kochanski was originally played by Claire Grogan, ex-lead singer from Scottish pop band Altered Images.
2: Red Dwarf came very close to being cancelled only two days into the initial rehearsals of the first series, thanks to a threatened electricians strike at the BBC.
3: The first choices for the roles of Lister and Rimmer were- rather bizarrely- Alfred Molina and Alan Rickman, and were only discounted because they were unlikely to commit to further series.
4: The casting for the show still could have gone very differently- Chris Barrie originally auditioned for the role of Lister, while Norman Lovett originally auditioned as Rimmer.
5: Two pilot episodes for an American TV remake of Red Dwarf were made in 1992, still featuring Robert Llewellyn, along with Frasier star Jane Leeves, but never got commissioned for a full series.
6: The BBC effects department destroyed their only model of Red Dwarf for the Fifth season episode ‘Demons and Angels’. In subsequent appearances, either archive footage or a CGI Red Dwarf was used.
7: Kryten was actually named after the title character from Peter Pan author J.M. Barrie’s play ‘The Admirable Crichton’, about an incredibly efficient butler to a Victorian family.
8: The seventh series of Red Dwarf was the only season not to be filmed in front of a live studio audience, in order to give greater freedom for lighting and camera set-ups.
STARSHIP TROOPERS
Year Released: 1997
Director: Paul Verhoeven
Starring: Casper Van Dien, Dina Meyer, Denise Richards, Michael IronsideOne of the unsung heroes of the original Star Wars trilogy, Special Effects expert Phil Tippet was the man responsible for the AT-AT walkers, the Taun-Tauns, and the Gamorrean-munching Rancor Beast. Virtually anything involving old-fashioned Stop-Motion animation in Episodes IV-VI was supervised by him, and he’s widely renowned as an expert in bringing weird and wonderful creatures to life- meaning Robocop director Paul Verhoeven knew exactly who to call when he signed to direct this gleefully insane, satirical sci-fi monster mash.
Based on a novel by Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers is a Fifties-style explosion of pulp future SF that pitches humanity against giant marauding alien bugs from the planet Klendathnu. As Earth comes under attack, and a gigantic military fleet heads out into deep space to kick some insect bottom, the film charts the journey of square-jawed beefcake Johnny Rico (Van Dien) from wide-eyed rookie to rugged veteran, and throws in every military ‘coming of age’ cliché under the sun.
It also, courtesy of Tippet’s brilliant creature effects and the rise of CGI, stars the most impressively gruesome collection of aliens to hit the cinema screens in years. From the spiky Warrior bugs to the flame-spewing Tank bugs and the gigantic, mind-sucking ‘Brain Bugs’, they’re a jaw-dropping symphony of effects that leaves gallons of ketchup, torn-off limbs and decapitated corpses in its wake. What’s more, they’re even more impressive for the fact that instead of lurking in shadowy ducts like the Xenomorphs from the Alien films, most of the ultraviolence in Starship Troopers happens in broad daylight, leading up to a gob-smacking homage to classic Brit war movie Zulu, where a small band of marines hold an outpost against a tidal wave of thousands of Warrior bugs.
Hilariously gory, and with Paul Verhoeven’s usual ‘anything goes’ attitude to violence, swearing and nudity, it’s a brutal, relentlessly action-packed space war saga – but what singles it out from simply being Aliens on a bigger budget is the way it takes the traditions of comic-strip style sci-fi set down from Star Wars onwards, and completely up-ends them.
Before Starship Troopers, we knew that the good guys generally wore white, behaved nobly, and were almost always American, while the bad guys lurked in the background wearing black leather, throttling their subordinates and speaking in rascally English accents. Starship Troopers uses the same manipulative, fairy-tale like devices to tell its story- but while the ‘good guys’ in Starship Troopers might be handsome, blue-eyed and American, they’re also representing an oppressive, brutal, pro-violence Fascist state where only those who serve in the Armed Forces get the vote.
Verhoeven has a history of cramming films like Robocop with off-beat, subversive subtexts, and here he goes even further, loading Starship Troopers with spoof patriotic newscasts, and turning it into a sly satire of American Imperialism. “It’s looking at the potential for fascism, even in American society,” said Verhoeven at the time, “because the film’s saying, ‘Yes, you might get a more puritanical state, and abolish crime and racism, but are you aware how that can be achieved?’ Its there as an idea, but it doesn’t get in the way of the story.” With elite officers striding around in replica Gestapo uniforms and a ‘kill first, ask questions later’ ethic, along with the gradual realisation that the repellent, brain-sucking bugs may be smarter and more sympathetic than we thought, it’s Star Wars recast with the evil Empire as the heroes- and naturally, most of the film’s audience didn’t get the joke.
In fact, plenty of critics accused the film of being pro-fascist, and while the subtle satire is present, it’s also combined with a streak of outrageous, ironic camp, and a cast seemingly assembled from Beverly Hills 90210 cast-offs. With oaken hunk Casper Van Dien caught between lusting after Denise Richards and being lusted over by Dina Meyer, all the while spouting hilarious dialogue like; “I’m from Buenos Aires, and I say- kill ’em all!”, it’s not a film to be taken too seriously. Starship Troopers may not have set the box-office alight, but it still proved that SF can be lurid, outrageous fun, as well as having something important to say…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: While not a box office smash, the film was successful enough to spawn a straight-to-DVD sequel, plus a 37-episode computer animated TV spin-off entitled Roughnecks.
2: On a dare from actress Dina Meyer, Verhoeven and his cinematographer Jost Vacano shot a take of the nudity-heavy communal shower scene in the nude themselves.
3: Most of the rifles used by the Mobile Infantry in Starship Troopers are actually redressed Pulse Rifle props that had been originally created for James Cameron’s Aliens.
4: In 1997, Starship Troopers managed to break the record for the amount of ammunition used during the making of a movie (although it’s undoubtedly been broken since…)
5: The graduation party sequence features a version of the David Bowie song “I Have Not Been To Oxford Town”, with reworked lyrics, and sung by Zoe Poledouris, daughter of film composer Basil Poledouris.
6: The film’s producer Jon Davison has a cameo in the ‘media breaks’ as a dog owner who shouts “The only good bug is a dead bug!”, while writer Ed Neumeier appears briefly as a criminal.
7: The footage seen in the film involving the explosions and fire after the destruction of Buenos Aires is actually video of the fires that occurred in Oakland, California in October, 1991.
8: Paul Verhoeven says he never actually made it more than a few chapters into Heinlen’s original novel, claiming he gave up after finding it “boring and depressing”.
THE FIFTH ELEMENT
Year Released: 1997
Director: Luc Besson
Starring: Bruce Willis, Milla Jovovich, Ian Holm, Chris TuckerBased on a story dreamed up when he was a teenager, French action director Luc Besson’s deliciously barmy sci-fi romp stormed onto the scene in the wake of Independence Day, and tapped straight into the bright escapism that was Star Wars’ stock-in-trade. The Blade Runner-style flying car sequences and the presence of Bruce Willis had plenty of people expecting a larger, more polished version of edgy, violent blockbusters like Total Recall or Demolition Man. In fact, Besson’s approach to the SF shenanigans is part fantasy adventure, part demented comedy, and heavily influenced by European comic books by artists like Jean ‘Moebius’ Giraud.
The shambolic plot follows 22nd-century cab driver Korbin Dallas (Willis) as he unexpectedly rescues a mystery girl (Jovovich) from the police, only to discover she’s the mythical ‘fifth element’- part of a weapon that’s the only defence against an incoming ball of intergalactic evil about to envelop the Earth. Nefarious mastermind Gary Oldman, wise priest Ian Holm and a gang of shape-changing aliens are also involved, but really it’s just a blatant excuse for Besson and his design team (including fashion designer Jean Paul-Gautier on costume duties) to go wild and produce the nuttiest, most colourful version of the future possible. One of the first digital blockbusters to truly display how much scale and spectacle CGI could accomplish in sci-fi, it’s packed with all kinds of surreal gags and inventive gadgets, as well as providing breathtaking future landscapes that still look downright impressive a decade later.
Transforming kooky supermodel Jovovich into an arse-kicking action heroine, it also properly introduced cinema audiences to the helium-voiced motormouth named Chris Tucker. Singled out as the worst aspect of the film by countless reviews, Tucker’s staggeringly camp DJ Ruby Rhod (heavily modelled on rock star Prince) is actually one of the film’s most shamelessly enjoyable elements, hitting the exact level of outrageous comic-strip insanity that Besson was aiming for. The Fifth Element is sci-fi letting its hair down and simply having fun, and there aren’t many recent SF blockbusters that have come close to its blend of lurid, brightly-coloured mayhem.
DID YOU KNOW?
1: The explosion at the end of the main action sequence in Fhloston’s Paradise was the biggest indoor explosion ever filmed, and the resulting fire almost got out of control.
2: The language spoken by Milla Jovovich’s character was invented by Besson, and refined by the actress to the extent that she and Besson could converse in it by the end of the shoot.
3: The sequences in the future New York are actually full of in-jokes and references from the Digital Domain effects technicians who created the sequences, including e-mail disputes and real pizza company logos.
4: Not only was the role of camp DJ Ruby Rhod inspired by Prince, but the rock star was considered to play the role, as was fellow rocker Lenny Kravitz.
TITAN A.E.
Year Released: 2000
Director: Don Bluth, Gary Goldman
Starring: (Voices) Matt Damon, Drew Barrymore, Bill Pullman, Janeanne GarofoloSci-fi and animation should be a marriage made in heaven. Stories only limited by the imagination of the artists? No need for gigantic sets? No troublesome actors refusing to leave their trailers? Logistically, it’s a slam-dunk- and yet, while Japanese animation has embraced SF for decades, Hollywood’s cartoon scene is a trickier proposition, and only one animated movie has genuinely tried to follow in George Lucas’ footsteps.
Helmed by ex-Disney animators turned independent directors Don Bluth and Gary Goldman (Anastasia), Titan A.E. is a manga-influenced space adventure set in the thirty-first century, where Earth has been destroyed by evil energy beings called the Drej, and the few remaining humans have been scattered across the galaxy. The only hope for the human race is finding the mythical Titan project, a ship which escaped Earth just before destruction, and the only map showing the way is in the hands of Cale Tucker (Damon).
Naturally, Cale is a blonde, rugged hero type with father-related issues, while there’s a sassy Princess Leia substitute in the curvaceous form of Akima (Barrymore), and a more cynical version of Han Solo named Corso (Pullman, in a very different role from his Spaceballs hero). With plenty of escapes, explosions, weird aliens and unexpected reversals (including one plot-twist that’s straight from The Empire Strikes Back), it’s a colourful adventure with lots of impressive set-pieces, including a Star Trek II-style stealth pursuit through a field of colossal ice crystals.
Despite all the spectacle, the story is a little too indebted to Star Wars, while the soft-rock soundtrack eventually gets deeply wearying. Added to this, it’s too dark and apocalyptic for the usual Disney audience, while it also doesn’t have enough edge to capture the teenage geek crowd. The box-office failure of Titan A.E. and the subsequent poor turn-out for Disney’s SF-themed Treasure Planet means intergalactic adventures are likely to remain off-limits for most US animation. At the least, however, Titan A.E. gave co-screenwriter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon a chance to explore his ideas about gritty space frontier life, which he’d later spin into the short-lived Firefly and its big-screen spin-off Serenity…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: Titan A.E.’s poor showing at the U.S. box office resulted in Twentieth Century Fox closing down its in-house animation production company after only two movies (The first was Don Bluth’s Anastasia).
2: Don Bluth was responsible for designing and animating a short fantasy sequence for the pop band Scissor Sisters, which was featured in the music video to their track “Mary.”
3: Titan A.E. was the first film to be shown in a preview screening using a completely digital system that eliminated the need for any kind of film print to be made.
4: Almost 90% of the film is generated using CGI, including all the scenes involving the Drej, with traditional animation only used for the characters and occasional painted backgrounds.
FLASH GORDON
Year Released: 1980
Director: Mike Hodges
Starring: Sam J. Jones, Melody Anderson, Topol, Max Von Sydow, Brian BlessedThe original Star Wars faced plenty of production problems- but if it wasn’t for one little decision relating to the rights to an old comic book character, we’d never even have gotten to that galaxy far, far away. When George Lucas thought of telling a light, fairy-tale space adventure, what he wanted to make was an updated version of classic sci-fi action hero Flash Gordon, who adventured his way through countless Saturday morning serial adventures in the 1930s- but he couldn’t afford to get permission to use the character. As a result, Lucas went back to the drawing board, and dreamed up a universe of Wookies, Sith Lords and weird hairstyles, while three years after his ‘little sci-fi movie’ made science fiction into the latest hot property, Flash finally made it to the screen accompanied by a shower of special effects and a title song proclaiming that “he’ll save every one of us…”
Redefining the phrase ‘over the top’, Flash Gordon comes from producer Dino De Laurentis, the man behind Barbarella and the dodgy Seventies King Kong remake, and hurls its American Football star hero (Sam J. Jones) along with reporter Dale Arden (Melody Anderson) onto the planet Mongo for a confrontation with evil intergalactic overlord Ming the Merciless (Max Von Sydow). There’s a countdown to Earth’s destruction, a saucy alien princess with an eye for Flash, and a selection of weird and fearlessly camp alien creatures to contend with, all told via a selection of bright colours, kooky camera angles and psychedelic cloud effects. Embracing the source material’s 1930s retro vibe in both design and tone, it’s the polar opposite of Star Wars, banishing grime and sprinting towards the camper, sillier aspects of SF like they’re going out of style.
There’s distinct echoes of 1978’s Superman as well, with a brief appearance from an Otis-like tubby comedy sidekick, and the selection of the two unknowns in the lead roles goes to prove how easily the casting in Superman could have gone wrong. A far cry from Christopher Reeve’s instant success as the Man of Steel, blonde bombshell Sam J. Jones is an oaken, charisma-free zone, while Melody Anderson matches him in the woodenly unconvincing stakes- even though she does get to deliver the legendary line: “Flash! I love you! But we only have fourteen hours to save the Earth!!!”
Bizarrely enough, Get Carter director Mike Hodges seems to have realised his two leads were going to be a problem, and surrounds them with one of the most loopy and eclectic supporting cast in cinema history. One scene alone features future Bond Timothy Dalton, Rocky Horror creator and star Richard O’Brien, respected playwright John Osborne and Blue Peter presenter Peter Duncan. Elsewhere, there’s everyone from Fiddler on the Roof’s Topol as the nutty Professor Zarkoff, The Exorcist’s Max Von Sydow sporting fantastic eyebrows, to the fearsomely bearded, god-like prescence of Brian Blessed as Vultan, King of the Hawkmen, who doesn’t so much chew the scenery as wolf it down in gigantic, movie-hijacking chunks.
The plot-twists get ever more ludicrous, the escapes get tighter and tighter, and by the time Flash is piloting a stolen war-rocket on a crash dive towards Mongo City, it’s almost impossible not to be swept along by the giddy comic-strip insanity of it all. It’s also possibly the kinkiest family SF film ever made, with plenty of bondage, whips, chains and suspiciously tight leather underpants on display, while the fabulously outrageous rock soundtrack cranks the ridiculousness level up to eleven (All together now- “Flash…. Aaaahhhhhhhh!!!”).
Perfectly complementing the barmy visuals, it’s impossible to imagine the film without Queen’s gleefully OTT score, and everything leads the film towards one of the most exuberantly enjoyable sci-fi action climaxes ever seen. Star Wars may be aiming to be a new myth for our times, but Flash Gordon just wants to dress up in daft colours and entertain us with the most wild, lurid and shameless nonsense it can possibly invent. The poor box-office showing might have denied us any further adventures from Flash and his mighty hair- but as far as the film’s enduring status as a cult classic goes, Gordon is most definitely alive.
DID YOU KNOW?
1: The mind-bending psychedelic cloud effects used to create the ‘Imperial Vortex’ and the clouds around Mongo were generated by swirling multi-coloured dyes through a tank of water.
2: Dino De Laurentis originally wanted Federico Fellini to direct the film, while Nicolas Roeg was attached to direct for a time, but left the movie as a result of “creative differences’.
3: In two exceptionally bizarre casting alternatives, Kurt Russell auditioned for the central role of Flash, while Dennis Hopper was considered as a strong possibility for Dr. Hans Zarkoff.
4: Sam J. Jones was actually cast as a result of being spotted by Dino De Laurentis’ mother-in-law while appearing as a contestant on US game show ‘The Dating Game’.
5: Max Von Sydow’s flamboyant costume as Ming the Merciless weighed 70 pounds, and the actor could only manage to stand in it for a few minutes at a time.
6: Princess Aurora’s ‘pet’ Fellini is played by diminutive Nairobi-born actor Deep Roy, who’s best known for playing the Oompa-Loompas in Tim Burton’s version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
7: Mike Hodges considered getting prog-rock legends Pink Floyd to compose the film’s music, before eventually settling on the altogether camper choice of Queen, along with some orchestral material by Howard Blake.
8: Cracker’s Robbie Coltrane has a blink-and-you’ll-miss-him cameo appearance, as the man who closing a door on Flash and Dale’s plane just before it takes off at the beginning of the movie.
BABYLON 5
Year Released: 1994-1998
Director: Various
Starring: Bruce Boxleitner, Claudia Christian, Jerry Doyle, Mira Furlan, Andreas KatsulasOne thing used to be certain – the only place you’d find Star Wars-style epic action and intergalactic intrigue was the big screen. Things have changed, however, and the one show that started it all off was Nineties SF saga Babylon 5. At first glance, it might have looked like a typical Star Trek rip-off, but series supremo J. Michael Straczynski had a masterplan. Structuring each season like chapters in a novel, it was going to be a series which wouldn’t simply hit the reset button at the end of each episode – alleigances would change, characters would evolve, and a gigantic, intricate plot was going to unfold over five years of television.
Years before story-arc heavy shows like Buffy, 24 and Lost, most people thought Straczynski was barking mad- but he went ahead and did it anyway, crafting a ferociously complex saga that’s less Star Trek, and more a combination of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, set around an interplanetary equivalent of the United Nations, where conflicts between aliens can hopefully be settled.
Featuring funky Tatooine Cantina-style aliens that were far from Trek’s usual humanoids-with-cornflakes-on-their-faces creations, Babylon 5’s rich blend of space opera built up momentum over each season, and by its third year was essential viewing for any SF fan. Plus, it also benefited massively from the growth of CGI effects, utilising computer graphics to render all the space sequences and many of the sets and locations (a technique George Lucas would perfect in the Star Wars prequels). Digital effects gave Babylon 5 a huge sense of scale on a TV budget, and meant it could produce thrilling space action sequences rivalling anything in Episode IV-VI.
Sadly, Straczynski’s ambitions got the better of him when a cancellation threat meant he had to wrap up the saga a year early- only to then unexpectedly get a fifth season after all, resulting in an aimless, overlong epilogue. While the show had its major ups and downs, it threw open the borders for what could be achieved on television, and left every serialised drama that followed seriously in its debt…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: After completing the third season of Babylon 5, J. Michael Straczynski became the first writer in history to ever have written an entire 22-episode run of a TV show on his own.
2: Actress Claudia Christian, who played Commander Susan Ivanova in the show, auditioned for the role of female Borg and eventual crew member Seven of Nine in Star Trek: Voyager.
3: During the show’s original run, the design of the Star Fury fighters was actually borrowed by NASA for potential use as a combined forklift/tug vehicle on the International Space Station.
4: Ex Star Trek star Walter Koenig, aka Pavel Chekov, appeared frequently on the show as psi-cop Alfred Bester, named after the famed sci-fi author of classic novel ‘The Stars My Destination’.
THE HITCH-HIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY
Year Released: 1981
Director: Alan J.W. Bell
Starring: Peter Jones, Simon Jones, David Dixon, Mark Wing-Davey, Sandra DickinsonStar Wars’ success back in 1977 opened all kinds of doors for different forms of sci-fi- but one of the very strangest was unleashed in the head of a then-struggling radio scriptwriter named Douglas Adams. In 1979, he was able to take an idea he’d had years previously in a field in Innsbruck- namely, why wasn’t there a Hitch Hiker’s guide for the galaxy?- and turn it into one of the most memorably weird radio series ever recorded, which was then adapted for television by the BBC in 1981
The story follows the permanently annoyed Arthur Dent (Simon Jones), as he’s rescued from the demolition of the Earth by his unexpectedly alien friend Ford Prefect (David Dixon) and taken on a surreal adventure across the cosmos. Cramming in discoveries like the importance of Towels, and the Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything (which turns out to be 42), it’s a wildly unpredictable ride that uses most of the show’s original cast, and lets loose the full might of the BBC Special Effects department.
Admittedly, the end results of this are somewhat rickety, especially when it comes to two-headed, three-armed ex-President of the Galaxy Zaphod Beeblebrox (Wing-Davey), whose animatronic second head spends most of the series lolling vacantly. While the sight of the early eighties Beeb trying to compete with Star Wars levels of spectacle is laughable at times, the show also fights back with plenty of inventive moments. Chief among these are the hilarious animated entries from the titular Guide, that are overloaded with the kind of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it detail which left the pre-video audiences reeling in astonishment.
All the way through to the beautifully bleak finale, the show spins an absorbing spell, mainly thanks to Adams’ ceaseless imagination and utterly British world-view. The 2005 big-budget movie adaptation might easily trump it in the visual stakes, but it doesn’t quite capture the original’s stream-of-consciousness style, while the least said about the unnecessary romantic subplot, the better. For those wanting to sample Adams’ humour at 100% proof, the 1981 TV version is the way to go- just make certain you know exactly where your towel is…
DID YOU KNOW?
1: The first episode was so expensive, the production was shut down for a time- resulting in a budget reduction, and the noticeable change in David Dixon’s hair from episode 2 onwards.
2: The Hitch-Hiker’s theme is a song called ‘The Journey of the Sorcerer” by Bernie Leadon. The radio series used a cover version by the Eagles, but it was re-recorded for television.
3: The character name Hotblack Desiato- used for the intergalactic rock star spending a year dead for tax reasons- is actually the name of a firm of Estate Agents in North London.
4: Douglas Adams appears several times during the series- in the pub near Arthur’s house, in several of the animations, and striding naked into the sea during one of the narration sequences.
E.T. – THE EXTRA TERRESTRIAL
Year Released: 1982
Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Henry Thomas, Dee Wallace, Robert MacNaughton, Drew Barrymore, Peter CoyoteIn 1982, two aliens arrived on Earth. One of them was a shape-changing monstrosity that impersonated whatever it ate, and chowed its way through an Antarctic research team. The other was a squat, ugly, yet strangely adorable creature whose tastes were no more exotic than chocolate, sweets and beer. Guess which one earned £700 million at the box office?
The showdown between John Carpenter’s gruesome remake of The Thing and Steven Spielberg’s warmly emotional E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial might seem like an obvious result now, but back in 1982, things weren’t so clean cut. For Spielberg, E.T. was a bit of a risk- he might have bounced back from the major flop of 1941 with the success of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but he still wasn’t quite the cinematic titan we know today, and a quiet tale of a boy and his alien hardly had ‘guaranteed box office smash’ written all over it.
The film actually began development after Close Encounters of the Third Kind’s success in 1977, with Spielberg keen to explore the darker side of aliens (a desire he finally achieve in 2005’s War of the Worlds). Night Skies was going to be a creepy tale of a group of evil extra-terrestrials stranded on Earth, and how they affect a normal suburban family- but as the idea progressed, it became something very different from the blockbusters that had made his name. Small-scale, mostly set in one house, and with almost all the lead roles played by children, it was something he looked on as a change of pace- and which he doubted would make that much money.
In fact, E.T.’s small scale is its biggest advantage, as Spielberg brought the weird and limitless world of sci-fi down to earth, and into the home. When the pug-ugly alien botanist misses his flight off Earth thanks to the arrival of pesky government officials, he’s forced to hide out with an ordinary, everyday family, befriending the young, lonely Elliot (Thomas), and Spielberg keeps the whole film from the kids’ perspectives. The only adult face seen onscreen for the first two thirds of the story is Dee Wallace as Elliot’s mother- and otherwise, the adults are faceless, menacing figures, mainly represented by Peter Coyote’s sinister investigator and his ever-jangling set of keys.
Even more affecting is that, despite his reputation for sentimentality, Spielberg doesn’t sugar-coat the setting of a post-divorce family. The kids swear, play with their Star Wars figures, call each other ‘Penis breath!’ and occasionally act like complete sods in a way that’s totally realistic. It’s also thanks to their believable reactions that we never doubt a collection of weird-looking animatronics is actually a living, breathing alien.
Drew Barrymore is fantastic and adorable in the role that made her a star at only seven years old (and led to some worryingly swift teenage stints in rehab), but the real star is Henry Thomas, who at ten years old pulls off the friendship Elliot develops with E.T. without once descending into cuteness. It’s that central relationship that made the film work, and which opened the door to previously unheard of box-office receipts- as well as a torrent of merchandising which briefly eclipsed Star Wars for sheer volume, and wasn’t truly outdone until the dawning of the mega-blockbuster with Batman in 1989.
A film sequel called ‘Nocturnal Fears’ was rumoured, which would have revolved around Elliot and his friends being kidnapped by aliens, and rescued by E.T., but saner minds prevailed as Spielberg realised lightning was unlikely to strike twice. He couldn’t however restrain himself from pulling a Lucas with the 20th Anniversary re-release, and not only using CGI to tidy up some of the creakier moments of the E.T. puppet, but also controversially swapping the police’s guns in the final chase sequence for the more politically correct alternative of walkie talkies. Whether in the original version or the spruced-up remix, however, E.T. still remains the pinnacle of warm-hearted, optimistic early Eighties SF filmmaking for which Star Wars opened the way, and one of the few films that can still reduce even the most stone-hearted cynic to complaining that there’s ‘something in their eye.’
DID YOU KNOW?
1: Harrison Ford filmed a cameo appearance for E.T, and would have been the Principal at Elliot’s school, but Spielberg thought his presence would be too distracting and cut the scene.
2: The girl Elliot kisses in the school sequence (which references a scene from John Wayne movie The Quiet Man) is Erika Eleniak, who later starred in jiggle-heavy beach saga Baywatch.
3: Unlike most movie shoots, Spielberg shot the film in chronological order, in order to get the right kind of emotional reactions from the kids when they finally said goodbye to E.T.
4: The design concept for E.T.’s bizarre, elongated face was created by combining several photographs together- including poet Carl Sandberg, Relativity genius Albert Einstien, and a pug dog.
5: E.T.’s spacecraft was designed by famed conceptual artist Ralph McQuarrie, who was responsible for most of the pre-production art and visual designs on the original Star Wars trilogy.
6: The script was developed at Columbia Pictures, at the same time as another alien movie. Columbia wouldn’t make both, so they let E.T. go and made the considerably less successful Starman instead. Ooops…
7: Spielberg’s original idea for a family being terrorised by aliens ended up being recycled in the Spielberg produced Poltergeist, which was shot almost simultaneously with E.T.
8: E.T.’s voice was created by combining the voices of actresses Debra Winger (Terms of Endearment) and Pat Welsh, who’d been responsible for the voice of Boushh in Return of the Jedi.
Originally published in DVD Review magazine
©Future Publishing 2007 -
Atom Bomb Blues – The Birth of the Watchmen (2009)
(Originally published in an SFX Special in 2009)
Remember ‘Who Killed the Peacemaker?’ Remember how it was a gritty and realistic saga of superheroes in a world on the verge of nuclear apocalypse? Remember how the story started off with the murder of government-sponsored superhero the Peacemaker? Remember how it put a new spin on comic-book characters like the Blue Beetle, the Question, Thunderbolt, Captain Atom and Nightshade?
Of course, you don’t remember that. Like the alternate 1985 where Richard Nixon is still President, the classic comic miniseries Watchmen never actually happened that way – but it could have, very easily. Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ groundbreaking saga has been a landmark of quality for so long that it’s hard to imagine a time when it wasn’t around, but Watchmen had humble beginnings, and there were many ways this influential classic could have gone in a very different direction.
In fact, it started life in the mid-Eighties simply as a way for legendarily hairy comics mastermind Moore to continue exploring his daring ideas for a different kind of superhero story. His incredible work on horror comic Swamp Thing had netted him awards and acclaim, but what he planned next was to team up with artist Dave Gibbons for a potentially challenging take on the classic superhero.
The basic starting point for Watchmen was the thought of playing with an entire superhero world – ideally using characters no longer being published – and treating them in a different and much more realistic way; subverting rather than following the usual rigid superhero continuity imposed by the big comics publishers. It was an idea that meshed with what Moore had already achieved with radical Brit superhero saga Marvelman (first published in 1982, and also known (for very complicated copyright-related reasons) as Miracleman), where he’d taken a familiar character and pushed it in a new and often shocking direction.
Soon, Moore had a loose concept for his story: one member of a superhero team would die, and the whodunnit mystery would allow him to explore interesting aspects of the superhero equation. And what was best was that it didn’t matter exactly which characters they used, as long as they were familiar. Instead of the usual super-powered action, this would be a tale *about* superheroes, and the emotional resonance and nostalgia of familiar characters would give the story a sense of shock and surprise when the reality of their world became clear.
At least, that was the theory – and after initially considering a team of heroes called the Mighty Crusaders (first published by MLJ / Archie comics), Moore eventually found a firmer structure when DC offered him the chance to use characters originally published by Charlton Comics – the rights were now owned by DC, they weren’t being published and were potentially ripe for reinvention. Moore and Gibbons leapt into action, and it’s here that the Watchmen alternate version ‘Who Killed the Peacemaker?’ came together.
Thanks to most of the proposal being printed in the 1988 Graphitti Hardback edition of Watchmen (and reprinted in 2005’s Absolute Edition), we can get an idea of how ‘Who Killed the Peacemaker?’ would have looked – and at first glance, the two projects are pretty similar in both plot and characterisation.
Each Watchmen cast member has their predecessor in the Charlton Comics heroes, and out of all of them, it’s the Question (who’d eventually become Rorschach) and the Blue Beetle (Nite Owl) who are closest to their Watchmen counterparts. The Blue Beetle is actually the oldest of all the characters, first seeing publication in 1939, and was always planned to be the most empathetic and human of Moore’s group, a Batman-style inventor and crime-fighter who’s sometimes aided by the powers of a mystic scarab.
Moore even worked the fact that there had been a previous Blue Beetle into the story (leading to the creation of Hollis Mason, the 1940s-era Nite Owl), while he also stayed close to the source material when dealing with the Question. One of the more distinctive characters created by famed comics artist Steve Dikto, he was a frequently ruthless crime-fighter who used an artificial skin known as ‘psuedoderm’ to render himself literally faceless.
Despite being a toned-down version of a previous Dikto character, the independently published Mr A, the Question is still a much darker, more extreme superhero, and Dikto’s right-wing beliefs in moral absolutes often came across very strongly in his Question stories. Moore’s own outlook was very different, but the uncompromising portrayal of the ‘Who Killed the Peacemaker?’ version of the Question (and eventually Rorschach) owed just as much to Steve Dikto’s politics as it did to his characters.
Another cast member superficially close to his counterpart was Thunderbolt, who’d soon become Watchmen’s Ozymandias. Orphaned and raised in a Himalayan lamasery, Thunderbolt was both physically and mentally powerful, able to access the unused portions of his brain – but while Moore finally cast him as the ultimate villain of the piece, things got sketchier when it came to some of the other characters.
Destined to die at the story’s opening, the Peacemaker was a pacifist diplomat so committed to peace that he decided to fight corrupt warlords and dictators as a costumed superhero (with the splendidly ridiculous tagline – “A man who loves peace so much that he is willing TO FIGHT FOR IT!!”). Moore’s plans didn’t go much further than him being a patriotic superhero who stumbled across a shocking secret that led to his death, and this version was a long way from his Watchmen replacement, the Comedian.
Things were even looser when it came to Nightshade (soon to be Silk Spectre) – Moore basically admits in the proposal that “she’s the one I know least about and have least ideas on”, and the only firm detail set down was that the US Senator’s daughter with mysterious, shadow-based superpowers would be Captain Atom’s only emotional link to the world.
However, it was with Captain Atom, the direct predecessor of Doctor Manhattan, that the project’s real potential became clear. The original Captain Atom was a fairly clichéd nuclear-powered hero, a military official transformed by an accident that gave him a selection of nuclear-related powers – but Moore’s idea was to tackle what being an immensely powerful superhero would do to a person, and to the world around him. A distant and emotionally isolated character, the Captain Atom of ‘Who Killed the Peacemaker?’ pointed to the depths the project would reach, as well as being definitively unlike any superhero who’d come before.
If ‘Who Killed the Peacemaker?’ had been given the go-ahead at this point, it would have been an interesting, gritty bit of superhero intrigue. However, so much of what made Watchmen unique was the detail around the characters, the way they transcended their origins and went in unexpected directions – developments that might not have happened if Moore and Gibbons had stuck with their ‘remixes’ of the Charlton characters.
As it turned out, though, things went very differently. The proposal was submitted, but DC’s reaction was a polite “No”. They liked the idea, but didn’t want to leave the Charlton characters in a state where they were either dead, or so psychologically messed-up that they wouldn’t be usable.
This could have been the moment where everything came to a screaming halt – but instead it became the turning point for the Project Soon To Be Known As Watchmen. Intially unsure that brand new characters could achieve the same emotional effect as established ones, Moore finally realised if he used the Charlton characters as a loose basis, he could still tap into the sense of familiarity and nostalgia he was aiming to both use and subvert.
On top of that, severing the links with the Charlton originals meant the story was now completely self-contained – and one of Watchmen’s ultimate strengths is that unlike many ferociously complex superhero mythologies, it doesn’t require any outside knowledge.
The proposal was reworked from the ground up, with the Charlton characters morphing into their new versions – and as they did so, the breadth and scale of the project started to increase. Captain Atom became Dr Manhattan, and his quantum-related powers became even stranger, leading to the ambitiously structured time-hopping chapter “Watchmaker”. The Peacemaker transformed into the brutal, morally ambiguous Comedian, while the world of the story started getting more complex, and the characters became deeper.
Bolder experiments started to happen – like the Tales of the Black Freighter pirate storyline that mirrored the main plot, and the symmetrical design of issue 5’s chapter ‘Fearful Symmetry’. It was all adventurous, groundbreaking stuff, but at best, Moore and Gibbons were hoping to carry off a daring piece of storytelling. What they weren’t expecting was to transform the comic book industry forever…
Over twenty years on, and Watchmen has had a truly gigantic effect. Even more than Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, it’s the title that kicked off the ‘graphic novel’ revolution – it proved comics could be just as legitimate and adult an art form as any other, and its intelligent, multi-layered approach to characterisation and storytelling has been felt in countless titles ever since.
Unfortunately, it also unleashed a torrent of two-dimensional copycats, with every other superhero title embracing ‘grim and gritty’ for over a decade, and comics suddenly being crammed full of shocking violence and near-psychotic costumed avengers. Even today, despite occasional stone-cold classics like The Ultimates and All-Star Superman, there’s the sense that superheroes are still trapped in the shadow of what Moore and Gibbons achieved.
Maybe it’s not beyond belief that some enterprising writer-artist team will one day achieve a superhero tale that goes way beyond Watchmen – but Moore and Gibbons have certainly given them a hell of an act to follow…
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Music: RIP MCA (Thoughts on Adam Yauch and the Beastie Boys)
It’s weird – I’d never describe myself as a dedicated Beastie Boys fan – there are certain tracks I love, and others that I’m not fond of – and yet the death of Adam Yauch, founder member of the hip-hop pioneers, has ended up one of those moments where I read about a celebrity death on Twitter and actually feel sad, like the world’s a slightly less interesting place now. The Beastie Boys were one of those bands I was aware of for ages, but never really locked onto – I can remember right back to their first major days as the leery punky white-rapping loudmouths of the Licence to Ill era, and they certainly didn’t look like the kind of band who’d be sticking around for long. But they did, and with their second album, the brilliant and fantastically sample-heavy Paul’s Boutique, they started heading in different and adventurous directions. Weirdly enough, the first Beastie Boys track that I really liked was thanks to an edition of Chris Morris’s anarchic Radio 1 show that I’d taped off the radio and listened to death – as well as Morris’s bizarre, head-expanding comedy, there was also an eclectic mix of music, including a track that turned out to be the second (much faster and louder) half of ‘The Sounds of Science’ from Paul’s Boutique. And, I found myself listening over and over again to it – I’d always kind of liked rap, but that was the first time I started really understanding the linguistic creativity and sheer coolness that could be pulled off by really good rap artists. I’ve enjoyed bits and bobs of the Beastie Boys’s output over the years (including the magnificent Criterion Collection DVD collection of their videos), but I think what I admired most was the enthusiasm, passion and creativity that exploded out of virtually everything they did. The music of theirs that I loved took me in some new directions (For example – I’d never have seen the wonderful Sixties cult movie Danger: Diabolik if they hadn’t used footage from it in the wonderful Bodymovin’ video), and I’m genuinely sad that the founder member, Adam Yauch – a brilliant rap artist, and the straight man to the more wild and cartoony fellow band members Mike D and Ad Rock – has just succumbed to cancer at only 48.So, in honour of the Beasties, here’s a selection of their brilliantly anarchic videos. Kick back and enjoy…
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Blog: Ice Cold (and Red Hot) in Prestatyn – The SFX Weekender 3
This Sunday evening, I returned from the wilds of North Wales where the weekend-long third annual SFX Weekender event was taking place. (And here is the point where I have to do full-disclosure and say that I’ve been writing in a freelance capacity for SFX magazine for the past ten years – I got a discount on the Weekender ticket price thanks to my SFX work, so you can take or leave whatever I say according to that, but hopefully you’ll see that this is as honest an appraisal as I can manage of the ups and downs of the weekend’s festivities).Both me and my girlfriend ended up seriously tired (to the extent that most of the following Monday was taken up with recovery)– it was a good weekend overall, and a sometimes brilliant one, although there were some problems and snafus along the way. Hanging out in a Pontins holiday camp in North Wales in February may not be everybody’s idea of a good time – we knew roughly what we were getting into when we signed up, but it’s still a bit dispiriting to arrive in a place that looks more like a Communist work-camp than somewhere designed to actually be fun:
As you can see, what was soon less-than-affectionately christened ‘Prestatyngrad’ features lots of utilitarian architecture, and the chalets themselves could only really be described as functional, but ours was clean and didn’t have any problems, and it’s easy to see that an event like the Weekender really couldn’t be run in many other places at its current scale (not without cranking the expense up to ridiculous levels).
The Weekender is a loud, brash, entertaining con that packs an awful lot into two solid days (with an added Thursday evening for early arrivals), and it really seems to inhabit an interesting world between the commercial ‘please pay here to get your actor autograph’ conventions and the usually more genteel fan-run cons that I’ve been to in the past. It also, unfortunately, ended up a very good example of the “It’s a really really good con – but…” effect. No event is ever going to run perfectly smoothly – it’s a simple fact that problems are always going to come along – and for the 75% of the time when the Weekender was firing on all cylinders, it really was a tremendous amount of fun. But – there’s that 25% of the time, which resulted in my overall feeling about the con being “mixed, but really good”, and a lot of it comes down to first impressions.Our journey to the site, for the Thursday evening ‘pre-show party’ was actually fairly smooth – we live in Manchester, so it’s an hour-and-a-half drive – and while I was a little nervous about some of the facilities (having heard horror stories about the accommodation at Camber Sands, the previous venue), I didn’t know exactly what to expect, and was looking forward to getting inside and exploring the con locations. Unfortunately, what we got when we arrived at Prestatyn at just before 5pm was a massive two-hour queue to check in, an hour of which was outside the main building in temperatures that rapidly went sub-zero. Annoyed is not the word, and it didn’t help that there was no communication, no staff members letting us know what was happening (or that the credit card machines had crashed, meaning they couldn’t process people’s security deposits fast enough) – just an hour in the freezing, FREEZING cold, and then another hour winding through a queue in a pretty small reception area, where there were only three check-in-windows. One of the only things that kept me going in the last half-hour was the idea of going to the chip-shop I’d spotted outside – the chalet was self-catering and we’d brought plenty of food, but I wanted something as soon as possible, so once we got our keys and found our chalet, I rushed off to get some food… and found that the chip shop had shut. At 6pm. I found out later that there was a canteen and a fast food ‘outlet’ (neither of which were incredibly appetising), and soon sorted myself out with something from the shop that I cooked back at the chalet… but it was the kind of massive disappointment that should have been avoided. Add to that a sleepless night due to a stiff and uncomfortable mattress, and my enjoyment of the Weekender took a major hit that took a while to recover.
There were, of course, certain other problems that nobody could do anything about – like the unexpectedly arctic weather, or the train derailment that ended up prevented several guests from arriving, and which delayed others. But there were organisational problems, and communication errors that could have been avoided – like the lack of any specific printed schedule or map in the ‘Welcome Packs’ we received, and the absence of a communal noticeboard where you could go to get updates, which left the whole event occasionally feeling a little vague frustrating.
It was only the avoidable problems that really bugged me. You don’t sign up to a con that involves staying in a Holiday camp chalet without understanding roughly what you’re getting into, but there were ways of dealing with problems like this, and (in order to let it all out and clear my head), here’s my constructive suggestions that I’d make in order for next year’s Weekender (which I am, despite the problems, still pretty damn likely to sign up for) even better:
1: The event doesn’t start for Weekender customers once they’ve checked in – it starts once they’ve arrived. Our journey only took us an hour and a half- there were people there who’d been travelling for much longer, and who had to queue for even longer than we did, and I dread to think exactly how annoyed I’d have felt if that were the case. At the least, there could have been more people manning the check-in counters, and staff there to handle the queue and generally communicate with people – a couple of explanations and heartfelt apologies for the delays would have gone a long way. At the best, there could have been hot drinks laid on for anyone who wanted them, or the check-in should have been opened much earlier than 5pm (going for a 1 or 2pm start would have definitely reduced the amount of congestion). The venue may not be perfect, but good service and first impressions are really important, and treating your customers like cattle isn’t a good way of getting them in the mood for a weekend of sci-fi fun.
2: Maps in the welcome packs, along with printed schedules. People need to know where everything is, and how to get there. My girlfriend had the schedule stored on her phone, but the whole point is that she shouldn’t have to – communication is vital. (Plus, all important information relating to the chalet should have been in the welcome pack – many people were complaining about having no hot water, when it was only because the water heater needed to be switched on, and the piece of paper telling you this wasn’t immediately apparent.)
3: A central ops area (or desk) seperate from the main reception area, where people can come with any queries or problems, and attached to that, a noticeboard of some kind where changes to the schedule can be posted. Yes, put the changes on Twitter as well, but you shouldn’t rely on social media and/or word of mouth at a place like this.
4: Try and improve the food options. Con food is very rarely spectacular (it’s one of the touchstones of the convention lifestyle), but there were very few options available, and most of them were very understaffed. It took me fifty minutes to queue for fish and chips on the Friday, and the fact that the chip shop wasn’t set up to open late into the evening (except on Saturday, where it stayed open till 8pm) was ludicrous. At the least, a selection of hot dog stands or burger vans would have fulfilled people’s emergency protein needs, or the chip shop should have been paid to open until at least 10pm. Either that, or it needs to be very, VERY clear in the Weekender literature that it’s vital to bring your own food for the entire weekend, especially with the town centre being a taxi-drive rather than a walk away.
5: Add a chill-out area – because while the noise and activity was mostly great, it was also – to be honest – pretty damn noisy. It’s a little like being in Las Vegas: the noise and activity is thrilling, but there comes a point where you want something a little quieter, and maybe the chance to sit and talk with friends or new acquaintances. The pub was always crowded and very noisy, while the main bar was directly behind the screening room, which late-at-night was showing a succession of horror movies, so not the most relaxing of environments. If the only opportunity to get something a little quieter and more peaceful is to go back to the chalet, there’s something wrong – and if it means losing something like the VIP bar (so that there’s more room for *everybody* to relax), then so be it.
6: Hang the DJ. Or, at least, make sure that the non-legendary Pat Sharp never gets within range of the music choice again (proving, as if it needed to be proven, that playing ‘Three Lions’ at a sci-fi convention is an excellent way of clearing the dance floor). Craig Charles’s DJ set was barnstormingly excellent, but the other DJ sets were sporadically good at best, and mostly featured an overload of the kind of bangin’ Nineties house that didn’t seem to be making masses of people want to dance. The music needs to be better…
7: Nametags. Meeting new people – and particularly meeting authors and writers – is a hell of a lot easier when everybody knows everybody else’s name. It’s a small touch that I really think would make a big difference to the social side of the event.
If they can pull off the options listed above, the Weekender might not be perfect, but it’d be well on the way to being genuinely great – because while the above problems were all there, and unavoidable at times, when the SFX Weekender got things right, it got them extremely right. Once you’ve gotten to know a few people, fan-run conventions can sometimes feel like a fantastic excuse to hang out in a bar talking to SF geeks and drinking, with panels and events as an occasional distraction, but the Weekender did a very good job of packing the schedule, resulting in very few bare patches, and plenty of moments where I was forced to choose between several enticing options. While I did end up missing some attention-grabbing events (thanks to the usual con excuses like ‘I have to eat’), my highlights include Sylvester McCoy prowling the audience and being fantastically entertaining, the epic Blastermind quiz where my esoteric knowledge of bizarre films helped my team get third place (out of dozens of teams) and won me a stack of cult horror DVD/Blu-Rays, and the incredible panel with Brian Blessed which was as deafeningly loud and hilarious as you’d expect, along with the realisation that alongside Blessed’s jaw-droppingly eccentric manner, there’s a passion for life and inspiration that’s seriously admirable.
The Saturday night disco, featuring Craig Charles DJ’ing, stage dancers, illuminated stiltwalkers, angle-grinders and hallucinatory video projection was also amazing, and all the way through the weekend there was a brilliant atmosphere – the dealers room was the most active, energised and lively I’ve ever seen at a con, there were costumed Star Wars Stormtroopers and Daleks prowling the halls, and the level of cosplay from the fans themselves was truly epic, with people throwing an incredible amount of effort into some of the most entertainingly kooky costumes I’ve ever seen, and a whole selection of character-appearances I never expected in a million years.Once past the initial organisational errors, on the whole it was a very welcoming con, and the SFX crew obviously worked their arses off in order to keep things running as smoothly as they could. Since Sunday, there’s been various posts on the SFX forums claiming that loads of people were hideously disappointed (as were everybody they spoke to, apparently), but aside from a few mild grumbles here and there, what I saw for the whole weekend was a gigantic crowd of people having a truly excellent time. There’s a lot that other, smaller cons could learn from the Weekender about the kind of fun and energy that will bring new people into the Con and fandom lifestyle. Ultimately, the issues that I listed above were only truly frustrating because everything else was so good, and the Weekender really did get close to being a top-notch experience crammed with weirdness and geekery. The high-points of this weekend certainly blew the hell out of any convention I’ve been to in the past (I’ve never laughed so loud or applauded so hard as I did at the Brian Blessed panel, for example), and it’s also excellent that they emphasised the literary and comic-book side of things as well as the more attention-grabbing TV stars, putting on a selection of panels that acted as a really good intro and discussion of many aspects of the genre. I just hope SFX and the organisers can take the feedback they’re getting onboard – as away from its flaws, the Weekender really is an impressive amount of fun, and is in serious danger of being the kind of con we need to see more of…
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Book Review: The Stars My Destination
Author: Alfred Bester ~ Length: 244 pp ~
Publisher: Gollancz ~ Originally Published: 1956
Reviewer: Saxon Bullock (aka @saxonb)What’s it About?: Stranded in space and left for dead, Gully Foyle is a brutal, beast-like nobody – and when a spacecraft refuses to rescue him, suddenly he finds a new reason to live. Finding his way back to Earth, Foyle embarks on a quest for vengeance, but his murderous grudge is destined to have unforseen consequences for the whole human race…
The Story: Classics don’t always age well, and sometimes a highly-regarded genre novel can leave you scratching your head and wondering “Is that it?” – so it’s nice to have finally caught up with Alfred Bester’s The Stars My Destination and find that there’s a reason this is ranked as one of the great SF novels. Fifties-era science fiction can sometimes seem very clunky – even writers like Phillip K. Dick didn’t really get into the swing of things until the Sixties hit – and yet The Stars My Destination moves like a bullet, and aside from a handful of dated aspects, it could easily have been written last year. Vivid, colourful and packed full of life, Bester’s novel is SF as full-throttle entertainment and darkly literate character study, fitting more into its 240 pages than many modern-day sci-fi thrillers manage in 500 or above. Yes, Bester co-opts the plot of The Count of Monte Cristo into an SF setting, but instead of merely playing this as a smart pastiche, The Stars My Destination goes further, and it’s all thanks to the fascinatingly weird journey of Gully Foyle.
Going from brutish thuggery to morality and then onwards to a truly cosmic conclusion, Foyle isn’t ever completely sympathetic – he’s too filled with rage, and simply unstoppable, for that – and yet he’s a completely fascinating protagonist, and Bester uses him in such a wildly creative way that what could have been a simple SF revenge story ends up mind-bending, hopeful and profound. There are rough edges here and there, and opinions may sharply divide on the infamous section where Bester breaks out the typographical tricks (possibly influenced by his time working in comics) and the novel almost seems like it’s trying to escape from the page – but the sharp energy and focus of The Stars My Destination is something special. If you’re an SF fan and you haven’t read it yet – do yourself a favour, and correct that situation as quickly as possible.
[xrr rating=5/5]
[amtap book:isbn=0575094192]
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Video: Star Wars Uncut
Once again, the Internet and the fans give me a reason to care about Star Wars again. One of those crazy projects that seems completely demented until you see the final product and realise that yes, people actually did this, Star Wars Uncut is a crowd-sourced version of the entire original 1977 film that takes a Be Kind Rewind ‘swedeing’ lo-fi approach to expressing love for the classic SF adventure, and did it by inviting fans to remake the film however they liked. The only rule? Each group of amateur remakers only got to tackle 15 seconds of the original movie. The result is a barking made patchwork-quilt of live-action, animation, glove-puppets and the truly unexpected that all holds together a lot better than you might think. Two hours of sheer Star Wars nuttiness awaits…
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TV Flashback: Moondial (1988)
Ah, piracy. There are so many ways in which it’s a measurably bad thing, something we’d undoubtedly be better off without – but one thing that the world of copyright infringement is annoyingly good at is catching the things that fall through the cracks. Not everything stays in print, or easily available, and it’s amazing what you can track down if you’re prepared to look. I’d never have gotten another look at the wonderful, wonderful James Burke documentary series ‘The Day the Universe Changed’ if it wasn’t for piracy – and I also wouldn’t have gotten another chance to watch the fantastically atmospheric and spooky BBC childrens drama serial, Moondial.
Broadcast back in 1988, Moondial got a VHS release sometime in the early Nineties, but ever since then it’s almost entirely vanished from view – it’s ridiculously difficult to get hold of, and the one ‘proper’ DVD release it got vanished from the shops almost as soon as it was released (the most recent DVD release was – weirdly – via the Reader’s Digest, and is also now unavailable – it’s this full episodic version that is, at least at the moment, up in full episodic format on Youtube. And just to be clear, I’d buy a commercial DVD release of it in an instant, as would plenty of other similarly aged TV SF/fantasy geeks, I’m sure). Of course, there’s an awful lot of stuff from that era that doesn’t get a release as well, but it’s frustrating in Moondial’s case because it stuck in my memory so strongly from when I first watched it, back when I was fourteen, and the world of Children’s TV was a much weirder, spookier place.
There’s a whole variety of shows that are burnt into my mind from that era – one of them, the ITV anthology series ‘Dramarama: Spooky’, scared the living crap out of me so much that I’ve actually avoided the recent DVD release, simply because I’m not sure I want to find out that my memory cheated and that it wasn’t quite as scary as I’ve remembered. Some haven’t aged brilliantly – The Box of Delights, for example, a much-praised 1984 adaptation that kicked off a whole run of prestigious fantasy adaptations, still has charm but doesn’t quite hold together (mainly because of the completely insane free-form nature of John Masefield’s original story), but while Moondial is absolutely a product of its time and often spectacularly Eighties, it’s also aged better than I expected and pulls off some impressive levels of atmosphere.
Adapted by children’s writer Helen Cresswell from her own novel, it’s the story of Araminta Caine (teen actress Siri Neal), usually known as Minty, who’s packed off to stay in the country with her slightly stand-offish aunt, but barely gets a chance to settle in before her mother is involved in a near-fatal car-crash that puts her into a coma. Traumatised and lonely (especially since her father already died a few years previously), Minty ends up exploring the grounds of the sprawling country house nearby (actually Belton House in Lincolnshire), but soon finds herself involved in the kinds of spooky goings-on that tend to happen around mysterious country houses in children’s stories. In this case, an ancient sundial holds the key to something that’s halfway between a time travel tale and a ghost story, as Minty crosses paths with an ailing kitchen boy called Tom, and a terrified girl who always hides her face – both of them trapped in their respective worlds, and both needing Minty to eventually find their freedom.
Safe to say, this isn’t exactly action-packed. We do get two definite villains – an evil governess, and a hilariously nasty goth ghost-hunter, both played by Jacqueline Pearce in full-on style that’ll bring back happy memories of her days as ferociously camp villainess Servalan in BBC cult space opera Blake’s 7 – but this is in no way an adventure story. Mood is the key word here, and there’s a certain level of weird abstractness to the story that you certainly couldn’t get away with today, but while Moondial is mainly a gently-paced, slow-burning mood piece that’s all about character, it’s often an astonishingly good one.
The late Eighties is a time when the whole look of television started to change and evolve at a pretty dizzying rate, and there are a certain aspects of Moondial that feel very entrenched in the way things used to be – for example, the number of beautifully plummy English accents on display, especially in the adult members of the cast. However, visually there’s a very definite effort to make this look good – fantasy TV is always very director dependant, and it’s pretty clear that the director here (Colin Cant, who only worked on a handful of projects after this according to IMDB) understood that the visuals and the location was going to have to do a lot of the heavy lifting in terms of generating a sense of enigma and mystery.
The end result of this is that the whole show has a wonderfully spooky edge, one that’s helped by the emotional undercurrent at the heart of the story – that it’s essentially about a girl finding a way of dealing with the possibility that her mother might die. We get a whole selection of sweeping tracking shots and kooky wide-angle lenses, which gives the show a very definite sense of style, and it’s also one of the few examples I can think of where filming day-for-night – throwing special filters onto the camera to acheive the illusion of night, back when cameras weren’t as powerful and night shooting was pricey – actually works. This is thanks to some carefully used filters and video effects, as well as the decision to drain most of the colour out of the image – what you get is something that doesn’t exactly look like night, but it does look dusky, weird and definitively spooky.
What makes it even more surprising is that Moondial is shot on video, and it’s incredibly difficult to make something shot on video look stylish (for an object lesson, go look at the late Nineties Neil Gaiman-written BBC drama Neverwhere, which only occasionally manages to lose the shot-on-video curse). Even the contemporary episodes of Doctor Who shot at the time (Season 25) don’t pull off quite so many moments of pure cinematic style as Moondial does when it’s really working. Matching this is a music soundtrack by David Ferguson that uses a mix of synths and traditional instruments in a way that’s weirdly timeless, adding a major level of darkness and edge to something that really could have come across as whimsical and feather-light.
There’s also the deliberately sinister edge given to the transport through time – I’ve always been fond of shows and movies that try to depict the impossible as real, and Moondial presents its fantasy elements very carefully, in a stylised but very controlled way. The travel through time via the sundial/moondial is acheived really simply – a circling tracking shot that spins around the sundial in question, combined with a funky piece of spinning late 1980s video effects – but combined with some fantastically eerie sound design, it gives a real sense of process. Rather than trying to be magical and charming, time travel in Moondial is weird, unsettling and disorienting, and the whole story feels much more weird (and ever-so-slightly science-fictional) as a result.
Admittedly, while much of Moondial still works astonishingly well, not everything here has aged as effectively. For a start, there’s an earnestness to the story that’s often touching, but occasionally trips over into slightly clumsy storytelling – it’s a very internal story, and unfortunately ends up relying on the ‘central character talks to herself’ device a few too many times. Siri Neal is often very impressive in a demanding role (she’s in virtually every scene), especially the sequences between her and Tom (Tony Sands), but there’s a few awkward moments in the opening episodes – especially a bit of full-on hysteria in episode 1 when she finds out about her mother’s accident – that don’t quite come off. The adult actors are generally divided into those who are really effective, and those who are giving slightly mannered ‘childrens TV’ performances (although Pearce isn’t among these, and gives a wonderful villainess turn that’s cool, chilling and distinctly camp).
The pacing is a bit too slow at times, even by Eighties childrens series standards – it’s a show that works better in 25 minute chunks than taken all in one go, and there does come a point in episode 6 where it’s hard not to think “Oh dear god, not another slow walk along the terrace to the Moondial?” Plus, the style is often very Eighties, even though there are plenty of TV dramas from that era that have aged much, much worse (like a 1986 version of Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey, which now bears an unfortunate resemblence to the music video to ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’).
Ultimately, the thing that’s most effective about Moondial is its sheer weirdness, which is what makes it even sadder that there’s hardly anything like it on television anymore. It taps into a very English form of spookiness (from the menace of country houses, to the devilish children dressed in Wicker Man-style animal masks), it’s as gothic (and Goth) as a childrens TV series can probably get away with, and it’s a show that dares to take its time and be deliberately dreamy and surreal. While it’s rough around the edges, and the ending will almost certainly leave you scratching your head and going “Okay, that wasn’t entirely satisfying…”, this is still a trip down memory lane that’s worth taking. Here’s hoping that a proper DVD re-release turns up sooner rather than later…
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A Brief History of ‘Chill Out’ (Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Write My Second Novel)
Some things need to be commemorated. I haven’t been blogging for a very long time (with a lot of effort taken up by my review blog Schizopolitan which, to be honest, is going through a very quiet patch right now). But when something really important happens, I still feel like the occasion needs to be marked – and having just finished my second novel, I wanted to talk about it a little.
(Firstly, the phrase ‘finished’ is a little open here – it’s done enough that I’m sending it to my agent, but I’m fully expecting to be doing some more work on it in a month or so (Hopefully it’ll just be small tweaks, though – I’m really not keen on the idea of having to do even more heavy-duty rewrites, after the stuff I’ve already had to do). Secondly, novels aren’t ever properly ‘finished’ – you just get to a point where you can’t learn any more from working on it, and you know it’s the best you can do at the current stage of your life. ‘Finishing’ a novel has just as much to do with learning when to back away from the keyboard, stop fiddling and leave the damn thing alone.)
Initially, for those tuning in for the first time, I should probably answer a simple question: what actually is my second novel?
Chill Out is a contemporary fantasy story, a mix of weird pulp adventure and emotional drama that could be described as somewhere between Neil Gaiman, Iain Banks, Douglas Adams and the weirder edges of British comic 2000AD. It’s the story of a woman taking her fiance home to meet the family she doesn’t get along with, and how the events of that visit force her to deal with a lot of the issues in her past (as well as putting both her and her family in a ludicrous amount of danger).
It currently weighs in at 178,000 words (which is big, but actually 10,000 words shorter than my first novel, at least), and here’s the blurb:
Don’t call her Chill…
She’s getting married. She’s got a job she enjoys. She’s got a good life. For Jill Baxter, everything should be fantastic. There’s only one problem:
Her family.
It’s eleven years since she left them behind, moved out, and changed her name. She doesn’t call herself Chill anymore – she’s living a normal life, and she likes it. But now that she’s engaged, questions are being asked. Her family want to meet her fiancé. She’s got to take him home for the weekend, to the sprawling country estate where she grew up. And there’s the very strong risk… that he might find out the truth.
The truth is that the world is a much stranger, wilder and more dangerous place than most people ever suspect. Jill’s family know this, and for generations they’ve been living at a crossroads in reality, battling gods, monsters and sanity-bending forces. They’ve travelled to other worlds, other realms, other universes. They’re some of the only people who stand between normality and the gibbering strangeness that lurks just around the corner.
And they’re exceptionally good at messing up Jill’s life.
One weekend. That’s all she’s got to manage – one weekend of keeping her fiancé from discovering the truth, and preventing her family from unwittingly tearing her life apart. But something else is happening, something that threatens more than just Jill’s engagement. Shadowy, terrifying forces are gathering, and before the weekend is out, the girl who used to be called Chill is going to find out that certain things – and certain names – aren’t so easy to run away from…
That’s the book that I’ve just (relatively speaking) finished. And, for those who are interested, what follows are some details on the strange and fairly organic way the ideas for this book developed…
‘Chill Out’ has had a rather complicated journey to the page. It’s a story that has, in certain ways, been lurking around my head since 1997, when I was engaged in a foolish (but weirdly enjoyable) attempt to break into the world of TV writing by a completely unorthodox (and, to be honest, shambolic and rather daft) route. While I was succesful enough to actually get meetings with a few people about my TV series pilot script – an overambitious bit of SF/Fantasy action adventure called ‘Sanity Claws’ – it never went further than that, and it’s probably just as well that it did, as I wasn’t anywhere near mature enough to be a decent writer back then. I did, however, come up with lots of ideas for other potential series, once of which – ‘Chill Out – was planned to be a kind of romantic screwball comedy, with one of its main characters being a punky, bisexual occult troubleshooter in her early-to-mid-twenties, who went by the name of Chill Baxter.
Being someone who grew up with an unusual name, I know the kind of effect it can have – so Chill was defined by her name, the same as me. She was designed to be a wild card, someone who functions outside the normal world, and who’d bounce off the other main character, who was someone perfectly normal dragged into a world of magic, adventure and strangeness purely by a twist of fate. (Yes, alright, a lot of this is influenced by the X-Files era, I’m completely unashamed to say). It was a potentially fun set-up – the wild and crazy girl versus the straight-laced guy – and I honestly felt there was some definite possibilities there for something that was commercially viable.
I just couldn’t actually write the damn thing.
It happens sometimes – you get an idea that seems like it should be dynamite, and yet it just doesn’t come together. In this case, it was simply that I couldn’t quite get the character to catch fire and actually start working – I’d thought all I’d have to do is write ‘punky bisexual occult troubleshooter’ and the rest would write itself, but what I actually ended up with was a character who wasn’t that interesting, and was verging on one-note. I still liked her, and tried her out on a number of stories that simply didn’t come together. It’s tempting to speculate what would have happened if I’d learned one of my most important writing lessons back then – simply, that you actually have to finish things – but after a while, it seemed pretty much that Chill Out wasn’t going to happen, and Chill went on the list of characters who I liked, and would at some point find an actual place for.
It wasn’t until late 2006/early 2007 that I started thinking about the idea again – in this case, it was because I was rewriting my first novel (a lengthy process which taught me a lot) and was trying to think up what I could do next. Various ideas were floating around in my head – and one of the things that my first novel, The Hypernova Gambit, had taught me is that it’s always good to look at things from a different angle. The Hypernova Gambit started out life as a proposal for a Doctor Who novel, and for years I thought it was stuck that way, until I finally came up with a way of taking the Doctor out of the story. As a result, the idea of turning ideas on their head was something that at least appealed, but I was mulling things over, throwing concepts at the wall and seeing what stuck.
What actually made it work was, oddly enough, thinking about my sister. She’s three years older than me, her name is Samantha – and, with a surname of Bullock, you can imagine that her time at Secondary School wasn’t exactly a non-stop cavalcade of blissful fun. We both had a rough time at school in different ways – but what really made me think was the realisation that she’d been through a lot of the kind of things I’d been through, only she’d handled things in a different way, and it had – in essence – made her a different person from me. Not a better or worse person, just a different one. It’s very easy to see the way you perceive the world as the way the world is – for example, my middle name is John, and my parents gave it to me so that if I did get to the point where I was fed up of being called Saxon (they were sensible enough to realise this might be a problem), I could switch, and Saxon could become my middle name. Only, I never got fed up with it, and the idea of changing my name to make life easier for myself and suit everyone around me never even occurred to me, to the extent that I was genuinely shocked and surprised when I found out from my parents (at the age of 16) that this was the reason I had John as a middle name.
So, all this was going through my head – the way I’d grown up, contrasted with the way my sister had grown up, the way we’d evolved into different people and gone down very distinctive paths. And suddenly, like a lightning bolt from the heavens, the idea was there inside my head, waiting for me:
What if Chill didn’t like her name? What if instead of being defined by having such an odd name, she’d actually found it an immense annoyance? What if instead of being punky, bisexual and off-beat, she was actually a ridiculously normal person saddled with a name that’s extremely hard to explain, one that she’d legally changed the minute she turned 18 years old?
That was the key. That was the moment when I sat up and went “Ooohh…”, because suddenly, I had a way of doing a story I’d been trying to write for a long time. I’ve got a very strong interest in characters who dwell on the border between the normal world and the unreal – I’ve spent a long time trying to tell those kinds of story, and I love the idea of treating the offbeat and the insane with a very distinct kind of emotional reality. Trouble is, finding ways of contriving for a ‘normal’ person to get involved in weird investigations and adventures isn’t always easy when your normal character isn’t, say, an FBI agent. I’d tried a whole series of solutions that didn’t work, or didn’t play, or simply felt way too contrived (whether it was ‘They’re flatmates’, or ‘They’re old university friends’ or ‘They work in the same bookshop’), and it was always near impossible to come up with a solution to the question “Why doesn’t the normal character just run like hell the minute weird stuff starts happening?”
And suddenly, I had an answer. They would, but they’re connected via family. Someone who grew up as the normal sheep of the family – someone who was raised around weirdness, and all they wanted to do was get away.
Instantly, you’ve got conflict, and you’ve got something that’s emotionally relatable. I soon realised that I was basically planning a family drama as seen through a really weird lens, and to force these characters together, I figured a nice way of doing it would be a ‘meeting the parents’ set-up, where at least some of the story is based around the central character having a fiance who doesn’t know the truth, and building tension around the risk that they might find out. Obviously, there’d be a threat as well (and it took me a while to find the threat – it wasn’t until I finally found an effective set of bad guys that the story felt like it was starting to work), but the plan was to try and keep the emotional drama (and a certain amount of comedy) going all the way through. I didn’t know exactly how I was going to write it, but I figured I was just going to have to find out. The fact that my agent liked it (and said it was potentially a more sellable idea than The Hypernova Gambit), combined with the fact that the editor who I’d had contact with about The Hypernova Gambit also said she liked it, made me think that it was worth pressing on with, whatever happened.
I’ll be honest here about influences, as well. I’m a bit of a magpie when it comes to influences – I’ll grab stuff from anywhere I find it, and as a result ‘Chill Out’ has ended up a bit of an eclectic blend. First of all, there was Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman – I’d read it and enjoyed it relatively recently, and I liked the way that it mapped normal emotional problems onto a fantasy story – after all, it’s the tale of a family reunion that gets out of hand, and I wanted to try and do that with the book, combine crazy fantasy with emotional reality so that no matter how weird it gets, it’s always based around something relatable and real. Then, there was Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrel by Susanna Clarke – a book I absolutely adored, one of the most immersive fantasies that I’d read since Lord of the Rings, which made me really want to work on the history and size of the world I was creating. I love stuff that feels like it stretches out beyond the confines of what you’re reading, and I adored the convincing background and sense of myth.
Another influence was the comic series Planetary, by Warren Ellis and John Cassady, mainly for the way it explores pulp fiction as history. I’ve always liked the idea of building whole universes, and being able to do stories where anything can happen, and Planetary’s left-field approach to adventure fiction sent me in a lot of odd and interesting directions. There was also – rather more surprisingly – the comedy series Arrested Development, whose energy and oddball setup (the one normal member of a ridiculously rich family tries to keep his relations on the rails) gave me a road map on certain ways I could handle the story. There was the 2008 film Rachel Getting Married – directed by Jonathan Demme, it’s a harshly emotive drama all about family dysfunction with a stunning performance from Anne Hathaway, and there’s one particular scene – where Hathaway’s character is confronted and emotionally torn to shreds by her sister – that had a massive effect exactly how real I wanted to play the emotional side of the story.
Most of all, though, there was Grant Morrison’s head-spinning run on the experimental superhero comic Doom Patrol. Possibly my favourite superhero comic, it’s packed full of energy, ideas and weirdness, as well as being one of the few superhero comics that are genuinely about being a freak – the Doom Patrol are fascinating characters, but they’re also damaged people who you’d never actually want to be (unlike the mostly far more photogenic X-Men). Re-reading stories like The Painting that Ate Paris and the whole bewildering Flex Mentallo saga really gave me a handle on the tone I wanted to go for, as well as showing me what bad guys I should use. (I resurrected a team of bad guys I’d used in various attempts at stories, but – showing that I may have at least learned something – I pared their ridiculously complex motivation down to a one-sentence pitch line, and they’re so much better as a result).
The other influence is more of a general one, and is also more of an influence I was reacting against, than anything else. In short – urban fantasy and ‘paranormal romance’, especially the first-person driven tales of kick-ass heroines who ride the line between mundane reality and wild fantasy. I’ve read a number of these books (mostly thanks to work), and one thing which had always goten to me was the way they were always based around very strict fantasy rules – specific mythologies, specific references – and I liked the idea of trying to do an emotive, character-driven adventure story with a strong female central character, but which also has the kind of anything-can-happen storytelling that appeared in the kind of crazy comics that I grew up with (2000AD being a major touchstone here). I wanted to do something that would play a little on that side of the line, but which would also subvert it and deliberately not go in expected directions. (I’ve also ended up with a novel that features a whole selection of strong female characters, so thinking about what would appeal to a female audience wasn’t exactly insane…)
All these influences came together over the period of around two years – and it hasn’t exactly been easy. I didn’t even know if I could write Chill Out, so I started without having fully planned it out (mainly because it was the only way I was ever actually going to get started). Yes, I got the joy of improvisation, and there’s a lot that happened organically (like the way an off-hand idea about a supervillain trapped in a section of my main character’s house evolved into one of the most emotive threads in the book), but it also meant that I ended up going down a few blind alleys. One thing that I have learned thanks to Chill Out – which confirmed something I was told by an editor in relation to my first book – is that you’ve always got to stay focussed on what the book’s actually about. You can have lots of stuff surrounding your central thread, but that central thread itself needs to be strong and clear. I once again ended up with a book that was a little too busy, into which I was cramming too much stuff – and the end result was that I spent a big proportion of the last 6-9 months doing a massive rewrite, and taking out two characters (one of whom was a minor supporting role, the other of whom was previously a character I’d thought was vital). It was a slog, and I want to avoid doing it on my next book… but Chill Out is stronger because of the changes I’ve made.
It was a slightly loopy choice – to do a book that was part fantasy adventure, part comedy, part intense family drama (something I had no experience whatsoever of writing), and while I am hoping to do more books in this sequence of stories (it’s planned out as a five volume series), the other stories would be extremely different, bigger in scale, and hopefully a little less intense. Because while the initial story was pretty simple, and I kept the action confined mostly to one weekend (with a handful of flashbacks), I still managed to get a pretty damn big book. I’m aiming for my next book to be shorter, by golly – as books these size are a major, major slog to get right (and I want to make sure that I’m having fun while I write).
And yet, I’ve learned a hell of a lot. Pushing myself into unfamiliar areas has actually helped – I’ve had to work on the characterisation of this novel harder than anything I’ve ever done writing-wise before, and it’s made me want to go back and work on The Hypernova Gambit again simply because I want to be able to use what I’ve learned to make that book as good as is humanly possible. There have been plenty of times when this has been an incredibly difficult process – and, to be honest, I also found myself going through some major insecurity issues last year.
Keeping confidence in yourself when writing is hard, especially when you’re working on big projects. Publishing always moves slower than you want it to – and when it got to the point when I realised it had been three years since I’d gotten my agent, and I still hadn’t finished my second book, things did start to get to me a little. I’ve been hanging out on Twitter a lot as well – and while some sides of social networking can be great, there can be something a little dispiriting about constantly, every day, being reminded about all the progress that everyone else is making, and all the wonderfully exciting things they’re doing, while you’re still slogging away on the same book you’ve been working on since the end of 2009. That kind of thing can very easlily feed insecurity – that you’re not good enough, that you’re not fast enough, that your book isn’t sellable enough, and add to that some complicated life changes (like the fact that I moved house last year, and that my girlfriend has been suffering from some pretty major health issues for the past few months), and it’s easy to get downhearted – when the truth is that sometimes, life gets in the way. And that’s okay.
It’s been a hard road keeping myself going on this, especially since the end result is… well, it’s extremely me. I’m very proud of it, though – it’s better than the book that I set out to write, and even if this one isn’t the one to get me published, I’ve learnt even more from writing Chill Out. I’m going to keep going. I’m going to keep writing. And one of these days, I am going to make it.
Anyhow – my current plan is to take a few days to do some practical-related stuff, get a few things sorted, and then knuckle down to some serious work on my next project – a romantic comedy adventure, set in the same universe as Chill Out, currently under the title of Bradley and Hoyle. I’m planning it as a short and fun screwball adventure, something that’s hopefully going to come in at about 120,000 words maximum (unlike the 178,000 word behemoth that is Chill Out’s current draft). I’ll work on that until my agent gets back to me with everything I need to do to Chill Out in order to fix it (I’m expecting the list to be pretty big), at which point I’ll hopefully just have to do a final polish, and then Chill Out will be out of the door – and I graduate once more into the world of waiting to see if the next e-mail I receive is THE e-mail. Once that’s done, I’ll trek onwards with Bradley and Hoyle – once that’s done, my next project is rewriting The Hypernova Gambit. And once that’s done? Well… if by that point I still haven’t gotten a bite (figuratively speaking…), I’m going to take a risk and work on the incredibly dark, female-oriented and sexually explicit fantasy series that I’ve been developing. Because, frankly, the idea of writing it scares me (it’s a pitch-black story), and sometimes I think being scared is a good thing. I guess we’ll see…
But for now, Chill Out is done. It’s been an adventure. And I hope to get to share it with more people soon.
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Movie Trailer: The Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Blimey. Okay, given that I’m not going to be seeing the prologue for at least the next few days, this is my first proper glimpse of Christopher Nolan’s upcoming third Batman film The Dark Knight Rises, a blockbuster for which the phrase ‘hotly anticipated’ is an insane understatement. Nolan set himself a huge hurdle to leap with The Dark Knight, and it’s perfectly possible that the ludicrous levels of expectation may in some terms end up working against the film – but the trailer has gone live over at Apple (and is available in an embed below, which may or may not get yanked soon…) and what we’re seeing so far looks pretty damn impressive; certainly a massive improvement over the “Oh crap, we’d better throw together a couple of shots along with a sequence of Gary Oldman mumbling incoherently in a bed” teaser trailer we got a few months ago:
From advance reaction to the prologue, it looks like one of the more divisive elements (unless there’s some serious fiddling happening in the next few months) is going to be Bane’s voice – and the one line we get here isn’t exactly the model of intelligibility, but I’m willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.
And while we don’t get a full look at that controversial costume, we do get to see Anne Hathaway in action as Selina Kyle (including an oh-so-appropriate mask), and as I suspected, whatever she may be wearing, it looks like Hathaway is going to be giving a seriously impressive performance as Catwoman. There’s eye-candy here, and spectacle (which promises to be pretty amazing in the IMAX format, especially considering the film will feature almost fifty minutes of IMAX footage) – although, as with the first The Dark Knight trailer, and almost all the publicity for Inception, there’s very few signs of exactly how this all fits together – but what’s really surprising is exactly how political that speech from Selina Kyle feels. It’s one of those moments where art accidentally coincides with real life (after all, the screenplay for The Dark Knight Rises would have been finished long before the Occupy movement got going), but it certainly looks like Nolan isn’t backing away from melding real life issues with superhero action in the same way he did with The Dark Knight. On top of everything, there’s some very interesting hints at how time has moved on for all the characters, and a general sense that whatever happens, even if The Dark Knight Rises doesn’t top The Dark Knight, Nolan is currently at the top of his game and would probably have to really try hard to completely mess this up. Whatever happens, July 2012 feels like a very long time away right now…

