Finally, after a little over two years, Blizzard Entertainment has released The Burning Crusade, the follow-up to it’s phenomenally popular online game World of Warcraft. (Let me give you an idea of just how phenomenally popular: Something on the order of eight million people worldwide pay fifteen dollars a month in order to play the game. The game second in popularlity has a subscriber base of something like five hundred thousand). TBC gives us two new playable races (and their corresponding Starting Zones) as well as the all new mini-planet of Outland (I say mini-planet because poor Outland was the victim of a terrible catastrophe that’s left it a conglomeration of rubble floating in space).
This isn’t a review per se. I haven’t had nearly enough time to experience all of the new content, but I will say that “Crusade” exhibits all of Blizzard’s typical polish. I doubt seriously that any long-time World of Warcraft fan will be left unhappy by this expansion. One might complain about the lack of new character classes, but that’s not really a major issue in light of all you get here.
I’d say more, but this is the last night my wife and kids are out of town and I need to get in some valuable play time.
With Pan’s Labyrinth we again find Guillermo Del Toro in the more mature, dark fantasy mode of The Devil’s Backbone. Del Toro’s Hollywood output to date (Blade 2, Hellboy), while fun, doesn’t have quite the depth or emotional resonance of his Spanish language pictures. “Labyrinth” is a pretty dark little movie. It juxtaposes the folkloric fantasies of a young 40s-era Spanish girl with Francisco Franco’s rise to power in the Real World. This Real World is a grim place most of the time, but little Ofelia’s visions of a strange fantasy realm are also shadowy in the tradition of all great faerie tales.
I dug Pan’s Labyrinth a lot. I questioned the motivations of the characters once or twice, but these are mere quibbles really (I don’t want to give away too much of the plot since I think this movie is best seen “cold”). Remember how I mentioned in my review of The Wisdom of Joseph Campbell how I felt that adding a touch of the mythic is a way to make stories not only resonate more strongly with people, but also a way to make them stand the test of time? Well, I think Del Toro’s one of the few filmmakers working today who’s exploring this sort of territory with credibility– particulary when he’s working in his native tongue. Check out “Labyrinth” when it comes to a theatre near you (or, since it’s getting a limited release in this country, when it finally comes to DVD). It has a strong story (with a horrific villain) as well as some beautifully realized fantasy sequences. I’m looking forward to GDT’s Hellboy sequel, but I’m a little keener still to see his next movie in Spanish.
Pan’s Labyrinth
Guillermo Del Toro, writer/director
***1/2 (out of five)
Some of you may remember The Power of Myth, the television show from the late 80s that popularized the teachings of Joseph Campbell. In this terrific PBS series, journalist Bill Moyers interviewed Campbell over the course of six one hour episodes. Campbell was the leader in the field of what might popularly be called “Comparative Mythology”. His whole thesis was that there are common threads throughout world mythologies and these commonalities tell us a great deal about human psychology and spirituality. I watched these programs when they aired and I was utterly fascinated by them– to the point where I’m still quite interested in Campbell and his teachings. Not only am I interested in Campbell’s work on a spiritual level, I am very interested in applying many of his thoughts to my writing. In my opinion, infusing artistic works with a sense of the mythic is what causes them to transcend time. I’m not the only person to have had this thought; George Lucas was a student of Campbell’s and the Star Wars films show that influence.
The Wisdom of Joseph Campbell is not as well structured as The Power of Myth. Since the interviews were conducted over the span of several years, there is frequent repetition. Those seeking an introduction to Joe’s work would be advised to seek out a copy of “Power”. That being said, I can’t give “Wisdom” a thumbs-down. The truth is, repetition or no, I could listen to Campbell read the phonebook. The man’s ideas are brilliant and his delivery (practiced over thirty years as a professor at Sarah Lawrence College) is polished and warm. “Wisdom” contains much of the same, um, wisdom to be found in the Moyers series and I felt as though the five hours I spent listening to the program was time well-used.
The Wisdom of Joseph Campbell
*** (out of five)
“If we don’t go crazy once in a while, we’ll all go crazy.” — Hawkeye
Fox Home Video has been putting these sets out one every six months for six years now. And so the long ride at last comes to an end.
Anyone who’s a fan of M*A*S*H and comes to this site with any regularity probably realized quickly that I too am a fan. Just look at that masthead: the name comes from Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce’s hometown in Maine. The show began in 1972 and I think I started watching it shortly thereafter (despite the fact that I’m currently only forty years old). I’d call M*A*S*H’s influence on me “formative”. A great deal of my outlook and the pattern of my humor comes from Hawkeye whom I adored as a kid and still do. What happens to Pierce at the end of the series’ run had a deep impact on me that still resonates watching it almost twenty five years later. It’s strong stuff indeed.
But onto the set itself: at the risk of treading old ground I’ll say that many of the fifteen half-hour shows in this collection are merely acceptable (with the notable exception of “Who Knew?” which is outstanding). However, “Goodbye, Farewell and Amen” is included here so that means all bets are off. GFA is quite simply the best finale in TV history. In fact, it’s letter perfect. Not only do we get the kind of send-off we might have hoped for, we also get numerous surprises and one of the most shocking and deeply affecting moments in television history (those of you who’ve seen the show know what I mean). Based on the strength of the ending alone, M*A*S*H Season 11 gets my highest rating.
M*A*S*H Season 11
***** (out of five)
Update:
It looks like M*A*S*H has found a new home on the TV Land channel– I can’t imagine more appropriate digs…
TV Land M*A*S*H site.
(It’s actually a pretty snazzy little page.)
The purpose of this entry is manifold. First and foremost, is my increasing reliance on my iPod during my commute. Lately, the Howard Stern show just hasn’t been doing it for me. Maybe I just need a break, but I’ve noticed a distinct drop in quality over the last couple of months. Despite the fact that Howard claims that his subscription base is increasing dramatically all the time, he seems to be having fewer and fewer celebrity guests. Lately, I’ve been hearing a little too much about how terrestrial radio is out destroy him and too little in the way of meaningful content. So I’m cooling my heels a bit. I expect I’ll go back in a week or two and see if I find the show a little more palatable. Maybe at that point I’ll do a follow-up to Getting Reaquainted with Howard.
So, yeah, I’m using my iPod in the car more and what I’m using it for is audiobooks. I’d never listened to an audiobook prior to a couple of weeks ago and I think I dig it. My first selection was Story by Robert McKee. I listened to this one in part because I’d read the print version years ago (and been impressed by it) and also because I’m now making my living as a writer. With that in mind, I’ve added a new category to the blog– “Writing”. It seemed apros pos and, hopefully, I’ll be adding to it in meaningful ways. Now that I’m writing on a daily basis, I’ve become aware of the areas where my writing could use a little improvement. In fact, I’d like to get better in numerous ways and revisting McKee’s Story seemed like a good place to start. I think it’s actually a fine book (in both its conventional and MP3 incarnations). Though the book is aimed primarily at the screenwriter, McKee’s lucid grip on the mechanics of storytelling is inspiring. I would say that writers of all types of fiction will find this book valuable– with one small caveat: most of McKee’s examples are from the cinema so the reader (or listener) will need to be film literate. That being said, the principles McKee lays out are universal, well-reasoned, and elegant.
So, to sum up: not lovin’ the Howard right now, wanna talk occasionally about writing, and I’m diggin’ on the McKee.
Story
Robert McKee
**** (out of five)
* * *
Some of my more astute readers may recall that Robert McKee was portrayed in the movie Adaptation by the excellent British actor Brian Cox. If you haven’t seen this whacked-out Charlie Kaufman flick you should.
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