Ken Lizzi's Blog, page 81

State of the Website, Updated

We’re into the second week of my website deciding to shit the bed. The hosting site believed it was caused by some sort of disagreement between the WordPress theme and one or more plug-ins. I don’t know. It’s all a big mystery to me, described in a foreign language and encrypted. But repairs are underway. Regularly scheduled web log posts should resume next week.

 

I hope.

 

Film Review, "The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies."

Oh, where to begin? Let’s try…”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” is the story of an elf-maiden and her forbidden love for a dwarf. No, that’s not quite right. ”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” is the story of a pudgy elf prince and his utter disdain for gravity. Or, ”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” tells the comic misadventures of Alfrid, a cross-dresser struggling to stay alive and make a buck in a savage, violent world.

What ”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” apparently is not is the story of a hobbit.

I suppose I ought to start with something positive, extol the good points of the film. Shouldn’t take long.

Unsurprisingly in a film called, before the colon,  “The Hobbit” the best scenes are those in which hobbits appear. Those are sadly few. Martin Freeman is terrific as Bilbo. There, I wrote something righteous and positive for once. Let’s see, what else? The sets and scenery were well done, very nice to look at. There was brief bit with a dwarven army forming a shield wall that I found pretty cool. The opening scene was spectacular, Smaug ashes Lake Town with beautifully realized fiery passes. And…that’s about it.

Leaving two hours or so of fail.

Before going any further, I will state that I realize this isn’t a faithful adaptation. Certainly after the first two films I have no illusions about that. It qualifies as an adaptation at all in only the barest technical sense. And that’s fine. Peter Jackson and Co. are telling the story they want to tell. I do my best to take that story on its own terms and merits. It can be hard though, wanting to see a favorite scene from the book brought to cinematic life, only to be disappointed by its non-appearance, glossing over, transformation into something utterly different, or poor execution. So it isn’t possible for me to be completely objective. But given that, I think even taken as a discrete story, removed from the expectations and strictures of Tolkien’s tale, ”The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies” falls short as a film.

Some of my objections might be alleviated by the extended edition. Armored sheep appearing without any foreshadowing or explanation. Beorn’s arrival and contribution to the battle being given absurdly short shrift. I can imagine the extended version mitigating these inadequacies.

Other problems are too deeply baked in to be reparable. The White Council scene at Dol Guldur is an embarrassment. PJ and Co. thought fleshing out the suggestion in the appendices of the White Council flushing the Necromancer from his stronghold would be cool. And, yeah, that could be pretty cool. But having committed themselves to the notion, they seem at a loss as to what to do. Instead of the might of Rivendell and Lorien coming to siege Dol Guldur, we get the White Council as a superhero team battling ghosts. Did we really need another dose of Saruman’s staff wizard-fu? A cool idea in the end added nothing to the story. A wasted opportunity.

The love triangle: Is it truly inconceivable that people would be willing to watch a film that doesn’t include a love story? Again, this is PJ and Co.’s version, so we don’t need to delve into the Silmarillion and explain why dwarves and elves don’t get it on. But this film didn’t need a love story any more than the book did. The romance never came across as believable or real and it sank scenes that had a chance of actual drama with its bathos.

When the battle finally began, I  – fool that I am – said to myself, ‘All right, he can’t screw this up.” Yeah, it seems I will buy that bridge you’re selling. After setting up the battle, and providing more unnecessary comedy relief in the form of Billy Connolly’s Dain, we get to it. And PJ immediately decides to dispense with the whole alliance of Men, Dwarves, and Elves, y’know the whole point of the chapter in the book, sending the Laketown army off to fight in the ruins of Dale. Fine, his story. He can do what he wants. But then he seems to tire of the battle, his entire interest in it seeming to be coming up with a bestiary of baddies to aid the orcs. (Look, its the sandworms from Dune. And some sort of giant trolls. And a warpig. Lovely.) Instead the writers seem to think they can’t concentrate on the individual stories they want to tell – gold-sick Thorin’s vendetta against Bolg, and the star-struck Fili and Tauriel – with this battle going on. So they just sort of forget it, let it run on autoplay, and send Thorin, Fili, Kili, and – I think – Oin the off on conveniently appearing warsheep (yes, warsheep) to an absurdly undefended orc command post.

And so the bulk of the titular “Battle of Five Armies” occurs off-screen.

This film really didn’t work for me. It’s full of nonsensical behavior – continually trusting Alfrid with positions of importance, a two against one hundred battle (that’s never actually shown, come to think of it.) And a head-scratcher I just can’t get over: Thorin and Company spend days in armor, full head-to-foot panoply, waiting for an attack on the Lonely Mountain. Then when the time actually comes to kick down their wall and engage the orc army, they’ve changed back into their travelling clothes. In what universe does this make any sort of sense?

The good news: in some countries (I’m looking at you, Canada) J.R.R. Tolkien’s copyrights will expire in 2023. “The Hobbit” will fall into public domain. Someone could take another try at an adaptation. Would be hard to do worse than this three-film folly.

Film Review, “The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies.”

Oh, where to begin? Let’s try…”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” is the story of an elf-maiden and her forbidden love for a dwarf. No, that’s not quite right. ”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” is the story of a pudgy elf prince and his utter disdain for gravity. Or, ”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” tells the comic misadventures of Alfrid, a cross-dresser struggling to stay alive and make a buck in a savage, violent world.

What ”The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies” apparently is not is the story of a hobbit.

I suppose I ought to start with something positive, extol the good points of the film. Shouldn’t take long.

Unsurprisingly in a film called, before the colon,  “The Hobbit” the best scenes are those in which hobbits appear. Those are sadly few. Martin Freeman is terrific as Bilbo. There, I wrote something righteous and positive for once. Let’s see, what else? The sets and scenery were well done, very nice to look at. There was brief bit with a dwarven army forming a shield wall that I found pretty cool. The opening scene was spectacular, Smaug ashes Lake Town with beautifully realized fiery passes. And…that’s about it.

Leaving two hours or so of fail.

Before going any further, I will state that I realize this isn’t a faithful adaptation. Certainly after the first two films I have no illusions about that. It qualifies as an adaptation at all in only the barest technical sense. And that’s fine. Peter Jackson and Co. are telling the story they want to tell. I do my best to take that story on its own terms and merits. It can be hard though, wanting to see a favorite scene from the book brought to cinematic life, only to be disappointed by its non-appearance, glossing over, transformation into something utterly different, or poor execution. So it isn’t possible for me to be completely objective. But given that, I think even taken as a discrete story, removed from the expectations and strictures of Tolkien’s tale, ”The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies” falls short as a film.

Some of my objections might be alleviated by the extended edition. Armored sheep appearing without any foreshadowing or explanation. Beorn’s arrival and contribution to the battle being given absurdly short shrift. I can imagine the extended version mitigating these inadequacies.

Other problems are too deeply baked in to be reparable. The White Council scene at Dol Guldur is an embarrassment. PJ and Co. thought fleshing out the suggestion in the appendices of the White Council flushing the Necromancer from his stronghold would be cool. And, yeah, that could be pretty cool. But having committed themselves to the notion, they seem at a loss as to what to do. Instead of the might of Rivendell and Lorien coming to siege Dol Guldur, we get the White Council as a superhero team battling ghosts. Did we really need another dose of Saruman’s staff wizard-fu? A cool idea in the end added nothing to the story. A wasted opportunity.

The love triangle: Is it truly inconceivable that people would be willing to watch a film that doesn’t include a love story? Again, this is PJ and Co.’s version, so we don’t need to delve into the Silmarillion and explain why dwarves and elves don’t get it on. But this film didn’t need a love story any more than the book did. The romance never came across as believable or real and it sank scenes that had a chance of actual drama with its bathos.

When the battle finally began, I  – fool that I am – said to myself, ‘All right, he can’t screw this up.” Yeah, it seems I will buy that bridge you’re selling. After setting up the battle, and providing more unnecessary comedy relief in the form of Billy Connolly’s Dain, we get to it. And PJ immediately decides to dispense with the whole alliance of Men, Dwarves, and Elves, y’know the whole point of the chapter in the book, sending the Laketown army off to fight in the ruins of Dale. Fine, his story. He can do what he wants. But then he seems to tire of the battle, his entire interest in it seeming to be coming up with a bestiary of baddies to aid the orcs. (Look, its the sandworms from Dune. And some sort of giant trolls. And a warpig. Lovely.) Instead the writers seem to think they can’t concentrate on the individual stories they want to tell – gold-sick Thorin’s vendetta against Bolg, and the star-struck Fili and Tauriel – with this battle going on. So they just sort of forget it, let it run on autoplay, and send Thorin, Fili, Kili, and – I think – Oin the off on conveniently appearing warsheep (yes, warsheep) to an absurdly undefended orc command post.

And so the bulk of the titular “Battle of Five Armies” occurs off-screen.

This film really didn’t work for me. It’s full of nonsensical behavior – continually trusting Alfrid with positions of importance, a two against one hundred battle (that’s never actually shown, come to think of it.) And a head-scratcher I just can’t get over: Thorin and Company spend days in armor, full head-to-foot panoply, waiting for an attack on the Lonely Mountain. Then when the time actually comes to kick down their wall and engage the orc army, they’ve changed back into their travelling clothes. In what universe does this make any sort of sense?

The good news: in some countries (I’m looking at you, Canada) J.R.R. Tolkien’s copyrights will expire in 2023. “The Hobbit” will fall into public domain. Someone could take another try at an adaptation. Would be hard to do worse than this three-film folly.

Tolkien's Birthday Extra

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I’m going to continue with the theme from last week, celebrating the birthday of the late, great J.R.R. Tolkien. Yesterday the family and I met some friends at the Kennedy School to take part in the annual Tolkien Birthday Bash festivities. For those of you who don’t know about the Kennedy School allow me a few lines to explain. The Kennedy School was, as the name suggest, a school. The McMenamin brothers, the dark overlords of a brewpub empire sprawling throughout the Pacific Northwest, purchased the defunct property and turned it into a hotel, brewery, restaurant, and theater. In addition to being able to belly up for a drink at the restaurant and outside the theater doors, you can get a pint at other locations in the school which the McMenamins converted  into bars: You can buy a beer (and smoke a cigar) in Detention, have a cocktail in the Honors Bar, drink in the Boiler Room downstairs, etc. Every year in January the Kennedy School throws an all day party to commemorate Tolkien’s birthday. They run all three of the “Lord of the Rings” films in the theater. In the gymnasium (where you can also buy a beer) a radio troupe performs snippets of scenes from “The Hobbit.”

That ought to give you an idea. Many people arrive in costume. In fact the event includes a costume contest. You can see children as young as three or four dressed as hobbits, or ents, or elves.

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And that, I think, is amazing. I was considering that while ordering off the special Tolkien themed menu (I ordered Mrs. Maggot’s Shepherd’s Pie – excellent, though oddly shy of mushrooms.) Every year parents bring in their children to share their love of the Professor’s creation. And a new generation grows to appreciate it. What a legacy, an ever expanding legacy. So many authors produce a lauded work that fades from the popular imagination after a year or a decade. Some may endure in the memory of a generation. But only a signal few influence and entertain generation after generation, inspiring movies, celebrations of the author’s birth, art, costuming, imitations, games, etc. Alexandre Dumas, perhaps. Arthur Conan Doyle. A few others.

What would Tolkien think of this? Would he despair at this ‘deplorable cultus,’ disturbed by the commercialization, the films, toys, games, and merchandise? Would he consider it a form of idolatry? Or would he appreciate the fact that others take pleasure in the very thing he did when it was little more than a personal plaything, an imaginary history in which to set his invented languages?

Who can say? What I can say is that I will endeavor to pass along my enthusiasm for Middle-earth to the next generation. Maybe she’ll like it. Maybe she won’t. I won’t push it. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

And maybe I’ll see you at the Kennedy School for next year’s celebration.

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Tolkien’s Birthday Extra

I’m going to continue with the theme from last week, celebrating the birthday of the late, great J.R.R. Tolkien. Yesterday the family and I met some friends at the Kennedy School to take part in the annual Tolkien Birthday Bash festivities. For those of you who don’t know about the Kennedy School allow me a few lines to explain. The Kennedy School was, as the name suggest, a school. The McMenamin brothers, the dark overlords of a brewpub empire sprawling throughout the Pacific Northwest, purchased the defunct property and turned it into a hotel, brewery, restaurant, and theater. In addition to being able to belly up for a drink at the restaurant and outside the theater doors, you can get a pint at other locations in the school which the McMenamins converted  into bars: You can buy a beer (and smoke a cigar) in Detention, have a cocktail in the Honors Bar, drink in the Boiler Room downstairs, etc. Every year in January the Kennedy School throws an all day party to commemorate Tolkien’s birthday. They run all three of the “Lord of the Rings” films in the theater. In the gymnasium (where you can also buy a beer) a radio troupe performs snippets of scenes from “The Hobbit.”

That ought to give you an idea. Many people arrive in costume. In fact the event includes a costume contest. You can see children as young as three or four dressed as hobbits, or ents, or elves.

And that, I think, is amazing. I was considering that while ordering off the special Tolkien themed menu (I ordered Mrs. Maggot’s Shepherd’s Pie – excellent, though oddly shy of mushrooms.) Every year parents bring in their children to share their love of the Professor’s creation. And a new generation grows to appreciate it. What a legacy, an ever expanding legacy. So many authors produce a lauded work that fades from the popular imagination after a year or a decade. Some may endure in the memory of a generation. But only a signal few influence and entertain generation after generation, inspiring movies, celebrations of the author’s birth, art, costuming, imitations, games, etc. Alexandre Dumas, perhaps. Arthur Conan Doyle. A few others.

What would Tolkien think of this? Would he despair at this ‘deplorable cultus,’ disturbed by the commercialization, the films, toys, games, and merchandise? Would he consider it a form of idolatry? Or would he appreciate the fact that others take pleasure in the very thing he did when it was little more than a personal plaything, an imaginary history in which to set his invented languages?

Who can say? What I can say is that I will endeavor to pass along my enthusiasm for Middle-earth to the next generation. Maybe she’ll like it. Maybe she won’t. I won’t push it. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

And maybe I’ll see you at the Kennedy School for next year’s celebration.

Tolkien's Birthday Commemoration

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Yesterday marked the birth date of Jonathan Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Had flights of Maia not called him home in 1973 he’d be pushing the Old Took for longevity records, but still shy of Bilbo’s Ring-assisted accomplishment.

An admirable man, a man I’d like to have met. Of course given that I was all of four years old when he died that wish falls into the category of sheer fantasy. And I’ve still not been to England. I’ve not visited the Professor’s gravesite, not had a pint at the Bird and Baby. Any connection I have to the man remains the written word.

And that’s remarkable. The power of Tolkien’s story and his (underrated) ability to tell the story leads to annual tributes such as this from people who have no personal connection to the man at all. Talk about a legacy.

To an extent we are all living in the world Tolkien created. Not his Middle-Earth, but our media saturated world of video games and fantasy films, all of which owe a debt to his writing. That’s a topic others have dealt with in depth, but it is worth at least recognizing. (Example picked from the internet’s upturned hat.)

When I sit down to write fantasy I’m forced to acknowledge Tolkien’s vast shadow. That acknowledgement for me comes in the form of deliberately steering clear of dwarves (note the ‘v’, another of Tolkien’s influences), elves, and hobbit analogs. You can pile “Lord of the Rings” homages high enough to rebuild Barad-dûr. That’s fine. I like pizza, I don’t mind new pizzerias putting pepperoni on the menu. But I don’t want to emulate that pie when I’m sweating before the brick oven.

So here’s to the good Professor. One way or another we all shelter in his shadow. I, for one, am grateful for the shade.

 

Tolkien’s Birthday Commemoration

Yesterday marked the birth date of Jonathan Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Had flights of Maia not called him home in 1973 he’d be pushing the Old Took for longevity records, but still shy of Bilbo’s Ring-assisted accomplishment.

An admirable man, a man I’d like to have met. Of course given that I was all of four years old when he died that wish falls into the category of sheer fantasy. And I’ve still not been to England. I’ve not visited the Professor’s gravesite, not had a pint at the Bird and Baby. Any connection I have to the man remains the written word.

And that’s remarkable. The power of Tolkien’s story and his (underrated) ability to tell the story leads to annual tributes such as this from people who have no personal connection to the man at all. Talk about a legacy.

To an extent we are all living in the world Tolkien created. Not his Middle-Earth, but our media saturated world of video games and fantasy films, all of which owe a debt to his writing. That’s a topic others have dealt with in depth, but it is worth at least recognizing. (Example picked from the internet’s upturned hat.)

When I sit down to write fantasy I’m forced to acknowledge Tolkien’s vast shadow. That acknowledgement for me comes in the form of deliberately steering clear of dwarves (note the ‘v’, another of Tolkien’s influences), elves, and hobbit analogs. You can pile “Lord of the Rings” homages high enough to rebuild Barad-dûr. That’s fine. I like pizza, I don’t mind new pizzerias putting pepperoni on the menu. But I don’t want to emulate that pie when I’m sweating before the brick oven.

So here’s to the good Professor. One way or another we all shelter in his shadow. I, for one, am grateful for the shade.

 

Elmore Leonard, An Appreciation

So you’re asking, “Ken, what the hell? Elmore Leonard didn’t write science fiction or fantasy. What’s a post about him doing on your web log?” To which I say, “Huh?” and proceed to otherwise ignore the question.

It is true that – to the best of my knowledge anyway – Elmore Leonard did not produce any speculative fiction. I wish he had. I’d like to read an Elmore Leonard fantasy. He did cut his teeth on Westerns. You may have heard of a story titled “3:10 to Yuma.” Yeah, that was Leonard. So he could have written pulp sci-fi if he’d wanted. You know the commonplace wisdom – replace six-shooters with blasters and horses with spaceships and your Western becomes sci-fi. Not hard sci-fi, and not necessarily good sci-fi, but it could be. And a good story is a good story no matter the trappings.

Elmore Leonard developed perhaps the most unique writing voice in modern American Fiction. His style is unmistakable. It is immediate, engaging. It is unquestionably a painstakingly crafted style, but it reads as naturalistic, real. He had a tremendous ear for dialogue, rarely writing speech that rings forced or flat. A rare gift.

Hollywood at least appreciated the gift, though the film adaptations flopped as often as they missed. “Out of Sight” and “Get Shorty” soared. “The Big Bounce” didn’t, two tries failing to get it right.

Sadly, we’ll see no more stories from the master of American crime fiction. Elmore Leonard died in 2013. He’ll be missed. But his books will live on. That reminds me, it is time to get back to reading “Bandits.”

VFW Book Signing

Yesterday I held a signing at a Veterans of Foreign Wars event. I truly hope those who purchased “Reunion” enjoy it; these aren’t folks I’d care to disappoint. They risked quite a bit for the country, the least I can do is provide some competent entertainment.

I like to armor up before a signing.

The VFW held the event at the Evergreen Air and Space Museum. I’d been wanting to visit for years. I finally got a chance to see some of the exhibits. And without having to pay for admission. Of course ogling rockets and jets from the mezzanine didn’t truly scratch the itch. Still, an impressive collection to view.

What I could see when not signing books.

I’m not a member of the VFW. My deployments do not qualify as ‘wars.’ I don’t write much about my time in uniform. Primarily because there’s not much to write about. At most I came away with a few amusing anecdotes and bad feet. I don’t want to be one of those pathetic nimrods who plays up his uneventful time in service as an endless series of hair-raising adventures: “So, there I was…” To hell with those guys, I refuse to join their mewling ranks.

So my hat is off to the VFW members I met. They all deserve our respect. At the least they have mine.

And some of them also have a copy of “Reunion.” So there’s that.

Bonus pictures! Because I care.

The caboose of the Spruce Goose.

Increments

My wife endured a car accident yesterday. She’s fine, for the most part. I took her to a clinic for evaluation: She probably suffered some minor whiplash, and I’m watching her for signs of concussion. Puts me on nurse duty and full time baby care for the weekend. Dole out the pills, serve up the meals. I don’t mind, my two ladies are worth it. How’s the car? Not so fine. I’m not looking forward to the diagnosis. A cursory visual inspection doesn’t reveal any obviously significant vehicular carnage. I’m not so sanguine. It wasn’t driveable and that doesn’t bode well.

I wrote just last week about entropy. Yeah. Kicking fate in the shin. Good idea.

But this is what we sign up for upon exiting the womb. Pitfalls. Slings and arrows. Wicked right-crosses. What you do is leap the pitfalls, dodge the slingstones and the arrows. Roll with the punches. And keep moving on. One step at a time.

No different from writing. I’m trying to keep the individual steps as my perspective right now, not pull back the focus and see the rather daunting word mountain rearing up before me. Let me break it down for you.

I’m waiting to hear back from a publisher about a novel. Waiting is part of the rules of the writing game, but it ain’t any fun.

Then there’s the other novel I recently completed the first draft of. That is sitting on the windowsill cooling until the new year. Once I can approach it with fresh eyes I’ve got to plunge into the second draft. Face all the glaring errors and embarrassing mistakes that shout at me to give up, that fixing this mess will be too much work. So I’ve got that to look forward to. Again.

There’s the novella waiting for its third draft. I can’t pick that one up again until I read the contributions from the other three writers attached to the project. So for now I can pretend that doesn’t exist.

Currently I’m researching and taking notes for my next project. I’m tackling a series this time. I don’t anticipate wrapping this one up until sometime around my fiftieth birthday. My daughter might have started school by the time this one’s done. It is off-putting and intimidating to consider the work in that light.

And so…

One step at a time. You might have to detour now and then. Shrug it off. Focus on the immediate next step.

Step. Step. Step.