Monthly Archive for September, 2008

Hill Street Blues — Season 2

Hill Street Blues - Season 2

Here is a short list of TV series with multiple seasons available on DVD:

CSI: Miami, Gilmore Girls, Desperate Housewives, Smallville, Grey’s Anatomy, Two and a Half Men, Martin, 21 Jump Street, Dawson’s Creek, Melrose Place, Walker — Texas Ranger, The Nanny, The O.C., The King of Queens, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Highlander, The Brady Bunch, I Dream of Jeannie, Crossing Jordan, Hart to Hart, Hunter, JAG, Knight Rider, MacGyver, Remington Steele, Silk Stalkings, and Starsky and Hutch.

This is an admittedly subjective list pulled almost at random from amazon.com.

Hill Street Blues won 26 emmys and is considered a landmark series in TV drama. Only two of its seven season are available or ever will be available, apparently.

Can someone at Fox Home Video explain this to me?

By Cunning and Craft

By Cunning and Craft: Sound Advice and Practical Wisdom for Fiction Writers

I mentioned in a previous post how most books on writing aren’t particularly useful. Part of why I think that is can be boiled down to just one word: mollycoddling. Half of the manuals on craft don’t belong in the “Writing & Publishing” section at all — they belong in “Self Help”. The tendency seems to be to view the wannabe author as a psychically wounded wreck who’s in need of a gentle hug. While I’m sure there’s some truth to this stereotype, relating to prospective writers in such a touchy-feely manner isn’t the way to get them writing consistently.

By Cunning and Craft by Peter Selgin never mollycoddles. In fact, reading this book made me nostalgic for my college days. I was fortunate enough to get my BA from a school with an excellent English department. In all of my writing classes we wrote, we talked about writing, and that was it. There was no psychobabble and precious little hand holding. The fact that Selgin is a published author and a teacher himself no doubt contributes to his no-nonsense approach. His advice is uniformly lucid and useful.

By Cunning and Craft was a pleasant surprise, and a book I will no doubt revisit.

The Dinotopia Saga

Dinotopia: Journey to Chandara

James Gurney is both a talented writer and a supremely gifted illustrator — which means I hate him. The first of the author’s Dinotopia books (aptly titled Dinotopia) was released in 1992. It was followed by Dinotopia: The World Beneath in ‘95. Now, after an unexplained delay of thirteen years, Gurney adds to his opus with Dinotopia: Journey to Chandara. Collectively, these books tell the story of Arthur Dennison who, along with his young son, is shipwrecked on a mysterious, uncharted island in 1862. Our heroes are shocked to discover that this island plays host to a sophisticated, hybrid community of humans and dinosaurs. Think Jules Verne meets Jurassic Park.   Though the story isn’t exactly what you’d call “edgy” — Gurney’s obviously aiming for the “all ages” demographic — the Dinotopia saga never fails to charm and incite wonder. The author has clearly allowed his imagination to run rampant within his setting, and he provides elaborate diagrams for both architecture and dinosaur-inspired technology as an addendum to his text. Though these books don’t come down off my shelf all that often, I do have a fine time with them whenever Gurney releases a new entry. Here’s hoping it won’t be another thirteen years for the next volume.

[For those of you keeping track at home, Dinotopia: Journey to Chandara is the third of my seven Science Fiction Book Club books.]



Freelance-tastic (2008 Edition)

I just finished up a little piece of freelance writing — a referal that came to me through a friend and former co-worker. The client needed a one page biography for a submission package so he sent me his particulars, and we hammered out a couple of drafts over the middle of last week. He was easy to work with and gave decent notes so, all-in-all, it was a fairly painless process. It’s the sort of work I wouldn’t mind doing more of.

Spunk & Bite

Spunk & Bite: A Writer's Guide to Bold, Contemporary Style

I’ve probably read too many books on writing over the years. I say this because, for me,  the act of reading books on writing oftentimes takes the place of actual writing. Obviously, this is a bad habit and probably smacks of some deep neurosis, but I’ll save that for another post. Only occasionally does one of these writing books strike me as useful on a deep level. Most of the time, I feel as though what I’m reading only confirms values or skills I already possess — not that any of these values or skills are manifested here at Crabapple Cove but, again, I’ll save that for another post. I’m afraid that Spunk & Bite by Arthur Plotnik fits neatly into the category of “fine but unnecessary”. Let me first just say that there’s nothing at all wrong with the book — in fact, it’s perfectly good. It’s just that none of it struck me as revelatory. The book’s chapters read like self-contained essays (or blog entries) each on a particular topic (edginess in writing, the role of the semicolon, etc). Reading these little opinion pieces of Plotnik’s was enjoyable, but not especially memorable. For the life of me, I can’t recall any of what he had to say on edginess or semicolons, or anything for that matter. I admire the book for its mission — freeing us from the draconian strictures of Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style — but I found its contents to be largely disposable.

Kirby: King of Comics

Kirby: King of Comics

I grew up in the 1970s on steady diet of Marvel Comics. At that time, I knew the name “Jack Kirby”, but I wasn’t a fan. The guy had an eccentric drawing style and the projects he was working on all looked a little silly to me (does anybody remember Devil Dinosaur?). Eventually, as I got to know my history, I came to respect Kirby as one of the founders of the Marvel style. Though he never got the credit he deserved, he and Stan Lee reshaped the medium into what we know it as today. Along the way, they created characters that now bring in hundreds of millions of dollars at your local multiplex. The X-men? Spider-man? The Hulk? Iron Man? Yeah, Jack “King” Kirby had a hand in all of them.

Kirby: King of Comics (another of my Science Fiction Book Club selections) is a damn fine primer on the man’s life and work. Author Mark Evanier was an assistant of Kirby’s for a number of years and obviously knew him well. His loose, anecdotal style is a joy to read and the wall-to-wall illustrations provide irrefutable proof that Kirby was a bona fide treasure — a master stylist and a helluva sequential storyteller. If you were around in the sixties and seventies and you want to know more about this often overlooked genius, you need to read this book. If you’re  a young comics fan and you want a better understanding of how comics came to be what they are today then you really need to read this book.

A+.

Another Truly Odd Pairing

The Gypsy Morph:

The Gypsy Morph (The Genesis of Shannara, Book 3)

I finally got my introductory package from the Science Fiction Book Club the other day, and I just polished off the first of my seven books: The Gypsy Morph by Terry Brooks. I already laid down what this one was all about and why I was attracted to it a post or two ago.  As the final act in a three part saga, “Morph” was decent enough, I suppose. Yes, there was the requisite anti-climax and I occasionally heard the gears of Brooks’ plot machine grind but, for something designed as escapist fare, the book does its job in at least a workman-like fashion. At any rate, it was worth the seventeen cents I paid for it. And, to its credit, it did make me want to re-read The Sword of Shannara some time in the not-too-distant future.

I’m sure I’ll have something to say on the other six books from my introductory package soon enough.

Singles:

Singles

Now I’m going to at least partly recant my recent effusive praise for Cameron Crowe. My fond memories of 1992’s Singles were, I think, clouded by my nostalgia for that period. Upon a re-view last night, I have to say that the flick is clunky and awkward. It’s not nearly as amusing or insightful as some of Crowe’s other work. While it’s not as uneven as Elizabethtown, Singles is nothing more than a trifle, really. I guess ol’ Cameron’s really only good about every other time out of the gate. In retrospect, the best thing about the movie is the soundtrack. The 90s constitutes the last time I really enjoyed music consistently with bands like Pearl Jam, Soundgarden and The Smashing Pumpkins doing the unthinkable: writing and performing their own music without the benefit of overproduction and a soulless marketing machine.

I won’t lie: the music of today makes me retch.

Burn After Reading

I read a few of reviews for Burn After Reading before I caught the flick at 11:30 this morning (what can I say? slow week). Some critics were complaining that the movie isn’t really about anything. Well, duh. It’s self-consciously, unabashedly about nothing. Nothing in the sense that it’s a spy thriller with no real punchline and very few thrills. That’s kinda the point. It’s like if the Bourne Identity were made by someone who thought that espionage flicks were silly (and they kinda are, aren’t they?). I’m a little amazed that these critics didn’t get the fact that “Burn” is a satire — not a brilliant satire by any stretch, but a diverting amusement, nevertheless. It isn’t one of the Coen Brothers’ best films, and it won’t be remembered during awards season, but I got my five bucks worth.

Hell, the whole movie was worth sitting through just to find out what George Clooney was making in his basement. Trust me on this one.

Elizabethtown

Elizabethtown (Widescreen Edition)

I won’t lie: I love Cameron Crowe. I love the way he writes. His characters say and do things which may be stylized, but are also somehow true. Crowe’s Jerry Maguire is one of the most liberally quoted movies of the last ten years. “You complete me”, “Show me the money!” and “You had me at ‘hello’” have become a part of the language. A weekend or so ago, I saw part of the writer/director’s 2000 offering Almost Famous on cable and I realized two things: 1) It’s a flawed picture, but it’s got some wonderful things in it and 2) I’d never gotten around to seeing Elizabethtown.

A few years back, I spent some time as a script reader — someone who reads screenplays for agents or executives who are too busy to read them themselves. I read Elizabethtown several months before it made it into theaters, and I thought it would mark a nice return to form after the unfortunate misstep which was Vanilla Sky. But then the movie itself came out and it didn’t exactly go over big. Reviews were mixed and business was tepid and, despite my admiration for Crowe, I kind of forgot about the flick. Some three years after the fact, I finally Netflixed it. So, what’s the verdict? Well, I’m of two minds.

First the bad news… The movie doesn’t work. Apart from the aforementioned “Sky”, it’s easily the least successful entry in Crowe’s catalog to date. They say that 90% of making a movie is getting the casting right, and that is, ultimately, where Elizabethtown falls flat on its face. Neither of the two leads are right for their respective roles. Orlando Bloom is stiff and uncomfortable (since he was no doubt fully consumed with the task of pretending to be American), and Kirsten Dunst is, well, just wrong. Worse, there’s very little in the way of chemistry between two people the movie would have us believe are falling in love. Unfortunate since half of Elizabethtown revolves around whether or not we’re willing to root for these two crazy kids. I for one was not.

What’s the good news? Like Crowe’s past films, there are moments which “pop”, which are memorable because of his insight and his unusual take on things. There’s nothing as great as John Cusack holding the radio over his head in Say Anything, or some of the more iconic moments in “Maguire”, but there are scenes that resonate. Which brings me to the other part of Elizabethtown which really worked for me personally: Bloom’s character loses his dad in the film and this was something which I was empathetic toward. All of the little moments related to this loss, the miniature flashbacks to time spent as a child with your father — it felt right and it was often quite moving.

But anyway, enough of that.

Remember how I said I read the script to Elizbethtown and liked it? Well, watching the movie was rather like hearing a recording of a good song done in the wrong key. The notes were right, but the end result was dissonant and frustratingly incomplete. Ah, well. I’ve got faith in Crowe. He’s a unique voice in movies and I have to believe he’s got a couple more good flicks left in him.

City Lights

City Lights (2 Disc Special Edition)

It’s amazing how well City Lights works despite how sensibilities have changed in the last seventy-seven years. Of course — since “Lights” is a Chaplin picture — the whole story is told in pantomime, and this requires some really adroit visual storytelling. The basic problem is that the film is made up of a series of small comedic set-pieces which need to be tied together elegantly.  Somehow all of those little vignettes — through some miracle — not only adhere to one another, but deliver a climax which I defy you not to be moved by.

Some have argued that Charlie was the first true international celebrity. Watch City Lights and you’ll see why.