A. Lee Martinez's Blog, page 47
June 3, 2013
Labeled
When it comes to labels, I far prefer inclusive ones versus exclusive. This is why I prefer to think of myself as a fantasy / sci fi writer more than anything else. Anything more specific both sticks me in a smaller box, but also limits what I’m trying to do. I certainly don’t mind the labels in the broadest sense. I write Fantasy. I write with Humor. I write about Weird Stuff. The problem comes when these labels start carrying broader connotations.
Recently, someone referred to one of my books as “Young Adult” fiction. I’m loathe to criticize anything meant in a positive way, but I still cringed at the label. It’s not because I have anything against YA fiction. Far from it. But there’s a catch that comes with it, a chain of logic that leads someplace I don’t want to go. It flows something like this.
YA fiction is for young adults.
Young adults are not as “sophsiticated” or “mature” as adults.
Therefore, YA fiction is not as “sophisticated” or “mature” as adult (i.e. most) fiction.
The problem with this chain of logic is that it just isn’t true. There is plenty of immature adult fiction and plenty of thoughtful YA fiction. There is also every level in-between. Basically, the label doesn’t really work for the nuances of our world, and it annoys me that we live in a world that needs such black-and-white distinctions, however artificial.
YA fiction is an established genre, but this has less to do with the stories being written and everything to do with the audience they’re marketed to. Harry Potter is YA fiction, but it has transcended the label. If you were to call Harry Potter YA fiction, you would most likely get a lot of push back from its fans.
I much prefer the term All Ages fiction. It’s still a bit difficult to pin down, but it basically applies to anything that would be considered “safe” for kids. Although even that idea annoys me, as if children are delicate flowers that will wilt away if they’re exposed to too many swear words or see a naked breast too soon. This is why I often have a hard time knowing whether I can recommend my books to people who ask me if they’re friendly to younger audiences.
What’s especially annoying is that no one is ever asking about the themes or ideas in the stories themselves. It’s always about naughty language or sexual content. Sometimes, rarely, it’s about the level of violence in the story. It’s such a superficial way of looking at the world. As if swearing or sex are the benchmark of whether something is worthy of adult respect or not. It’s nothing new, but it has always been arbitrary and strange to me.
A lot of my books are All-Ages appropriate simply because they lack those controversial elements that might be deemed offensive by certain standards. Emperor Mollusk versus the Sinister Brain has no controversial language, no sex. There’s no need for it to be in the story. But even as I wrote it, I pondered whether to insert gratuitous swearing simply to raise the perceived maturity level of the book. In the end, I chose not to because it seemed to be distracting and out-of-tune with what I was writing.
Helen and Troy’s Epic Road Quest, due out this July, is very much All-Ages friendly. There is a little bit of language. There’s some awkward romance. But nothing terribly risque. It even features young protagonists, which will only add to that perception. And I’m okay with that because there’s not much I can do to stop it. I’m not going to alter these default perceptions.
It’s a shame that we don’t live in a culture subtle enough to gauge maturity by the themes and ideas of a story, by its characters, its heart and soul, rather than how many times naughty words are included. But we certainly don’t. This is why my newest project, One of These Doomsdays, has very deliberate swearing and sex throughout. Nothing I would consider too edgy, but enough to be noted. Enough to encourage folks to see it as an “Adult” story.
But I believe good fiction is good fiction. I still say I learned a hell of a lot about characterization and pacing from Duck Tales cartoons, and I freely admit that comic book superheroes taught me how to tell a great story. And they didn’t need to do it by swearing or covering the pages in buckets of red ink. (Don’t get me started on the current industry trends, where comics are divided into All-Ages adventures and gore-soaked “mature” tales. That’s a whole other post, and one I’ve probably already done once or twice before.)
I know I’m probably the wrong guy to have a valid opinion on this. I write about weird stuff, and my favorite video games either involve shape-shifting robots from outer space or little collectible figures aimed at eight-year-olds. But it doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We need to broaden our sense of what is worthy of us, and it takes a heck of a lot more than some foul language and blood to convince me a story is mature. And while I’m always happy when anyone reads and enjoys my stories, I will never be particularly happy about any label that shrinks my audience rather than grows it.
I want a lot of people to read my books. I work hard on them, and my goal isn’t to just appeal to a demographic. I’d like to think I’m a better artist than that. Even if I’m not, I’d hate to stop exploring interesting themes and worlds through my stories simply because doing so would make them easier to categorize and sell. It’s probably a dumb thing to even care about, but there you have it, Action Force.
Thanks for taking the time to read them.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 31, 2013
Q&A Friday
Time for another infrequent Q&A Friday post. You send me questions, Action Force, and I answer them. Let’s get to it.
I love the drawings you’ve been doing! Do you ever get a character idea via a drawing first, and the fiction comes after?
I tend to view my drawings and my novels as two separate domains. I have never drawn a character to any novel first, and everything in my books started out as written word first. Only later, when I’m bored, do I usually bother drawing anything from my books. Part of this is because, while I do enjoy drawing, I consider myself a writer first and foremost. Drawing, for the moment, is a nice hobby, but nothing I do on a professional level at this point.
I do have characters I created as cartoons first, and I have loose stories floating around in my head for some of them. But, aside from some groundwork on concept and character sketches, I haven’t written those stories down. The foundation is there though, and I’d love to do something with my cartoons someday. But I also know the limitations of my training and experience and would much rather work with more talented artists who could take my stuff and make it into something better than I could on my own.
The opportunity hasn’t arisen yet, but I’m hopeful it will one day.
If you were playing a Dungeons and dragons game what class do you choose?
As it turns out, I have played D&D on occasion. Not often. I’m not really a RPG guy. Not because they’re bad games but because so many people are bad writers. You discover that when you play enough RPGs with people who think the goal of any session is either to be the funny guy or the complex role-player or the treasure hoarder. All of which usually translates to characters who constantly gets in the way of the story for the sake of their own self-serving goals. If I had a dollar for every role-playing session that ended with me bored out of my mind while the other heroes hit on wenches or played “funny” pranks on each other, I’d have probably five dollars.
My other problem with RPGs (especially the rules heavy D&D type models) is that by cataloguing everything a character can and can’t do, you tend to create rather flat heroes who are either seeking to solve every problem with their same basic skillset or who simply lack any sort of genuine problem solving ability at all. It can become a chore of memorizing stats and optimizing builds and all kinds of micromaxing and arbitrary limitations that simply bind players and their choices. Basically, so many RPGs seem to me as really complicated board games without any of the charm and with a ton more paperwork.
My favorite RPGs, such as they are, are light on rules and encourage a fast easy game that rewards participation without requiring memorization. Feng Shui is an obscure RPG based on Hong Kong action flicks, and it is hands down the favorite of all the games I’ve ever played. It breaks a lot of rules. Characters creation is done in ten minutes. There are no large charts to pour over, no quibbling over weapon optimization, no loot to collect. Most importantly, the heroes in the game start out as action heroes, which skips the leveling process so many games seem to be built around that I find so tedious. In Feng Shui, your character starts out as a badass.
But going back to D&D type games, my answer is easy. Fighter. I play them because they usually involve a lot less paperwork and bookkeeping, and instead of trying to micromanage my mana or special powers, I can just hit the monsters with my battleaxe until they die or I do.
Do you believe in bigfoot?
I’m assuming this is a genuine question by someone who has never seen my posts about the pseudoscience that is Finding Bigfoot. Either that, or you’re setting me up for an easy rant. Either way, I’ll answer it.
No.
I could leave it at that, but I’ll go ahead and add some clarifications. I cannot say definitively that a bigfoot-like creature doesn’t exist somewhere out there, but I can say that, given what passes for evidence among bigfoot hunters, we haven’t found it yet and it doesn’t look like it is actually out there.
Most of these type of pseudoscience shows have managed to push me past healthy skepticism to near certain doubt. The Finding Bigfoot team has spent years roaming the woods with cameras and all manner of recording equipment. They haven’t found a damned thing. That’s pretty damning evidence as far as I’m concerned. To put it another way, if they were looking for leprechauns and had the same results, no one would give them the benefit of the doubt.
The same thing happened to me when it came to ghosts and UFOs. All the “evidence” is so much nothingness that to suggest there is overwhelming proof for these things just strikes me as disingenuous at worst or self-deception at best. I’ll change my mind when an actual bigfoot is found. Not some grainy footage. Not another eye witness account. An actual honest-to-The-Mighty-Robot-King bigfoot, alive or dead.
Otherwise, I see disbelief as the only reasonable option.
Would you be in favor of an animated film using one of your books and your sketches of the characters? Is that even feasible?
Yes, very much so.
I believe it is very feasible.
But I’m not really in charge of such things. Not yet anyway.
Where do you come up with names for your characters?
I’m assuming you’re asking about the weird names, not the ordinary ones. The ordinary ones I tend to simply pluck from random internet searches, although sometimes I have other reasons.
The two-headed ogre from In the Company of Ogres is named Martin and Lewis, after Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, though almost nobody gets that reference these days.
Abner Greenman from The Automatic Detective is a literal, little green man. His first name comes from the L’il Abner comic strip and the last name, well, that’s fairly obvious.
Quick, AKA Quetzalcoatl from Divine Misfortune, gets that name because it’s a lot easier to spell over and over again than Quetzalcoatl.
Almost every character in Too Many Curses gets a name that either symbolically represents their curse or is alliterative in an effort to help keep things clear. Echo is a bodiless voice. Walter is a wall. Olivia is an owl. And many of the other characters are simply known by their curse AKA the Ragdoll Princess and the Toad Prince.
Duke and Earl (Gil’s All Fright Diner) do NOT get their names from the song Duke of Earl, despite what some might think. They get their names from the fact that they both are common to royalty AND Southern tradition. And, of course, Sheriff Marshall Kopp is indeed a play on words, but not meant to be especially clever so much as easy to remember.
Emperor Mollusk (Emperor Mollusk versus the Sinister Brain) is meant to indicate his position of power, egotistical self-worth, and cephalopod nature.
I’d say about a third of the time the names are something I’ve really thought about and are there to serve as a reminder to the reader of who or what the character is. But most the time, they’re just random normal names.
Have you considered doing a Mack Megaton comic?
All by myself? No. To do it right would require a ton of work and effort, and by necessity, I have to put my efforts into novelology. It’s how I pay my rent and afford to buy my Skylanders figures. But if someone wanted to work with me to create one, I’d definitely consider it. Though nobody with the resources and ability has come forward yet.
That’s one of the things worth noting. It takes a lot of time to do anything creative. While I love doodling, it is still something I do on the side. Putting aside questions of talent (I still consider myself an amateur at best), there is a lot of expertise I lack, even if I had the free time.
Time is the enemy of all of us, and it’s no different in my job. It can take hours just to create a decent page of writing, draw something interesting, or do the latest rounds of edits. The longer I do this, the more I am convinced that what separates the amateur from the professional is devoting enough time to make it happen. Sure, talent is nice, but nothing beats consistent drive and hours upon hours of sitting down and working. Like I said, not much different than any other job.
Right now, I draw for fun. I draw when I feel like it, and I draw what I like. But that’s not the same thing as being devoted enough to do anything beyond a few doodles in service of my writing career. Who knows what the future holds though?
Thanks for the questions, Action Force.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 28, 2013
The Four Faces of A. Lee Martinez
Greetings, Action Force. I trust the world has been treating you well this last week. Of course, given the law of averages, it’s fair to say that for many of you it hasn’t, and I can only offer my sympathies. Hang in there. I’m rooting for you.
Today, let’s talk about what exactly defines my novels. Given the disparity of sub-genres and range of character types, it’s not always easy to pin down. But I think that there is, without a doubt, a common theme or two that runs through them, and I think if they’re not going to rely on a traditional series model to tie them together, then maybe we should draw attention to what they do have in common.
Of course, there’s the humor. Although I am reluctant to use that as a defining element because humor is so damned subjective there’s no indication that anyone will find something funny just because I do. As I’ve said far too many times anyway, I don’t consider myself a humorist, and I don’t think the humor is what sets my books apart. There are plenty of humor writers out there, and plenty that do a far better job of being funny, satirical, or goofy than I do. Especially since that is never my goal.
Also, the humor varies from book to book, and while each of them has their moments, some are clearly funnier than the rest. Divine Misfortune is almost a sitcom in that it has a wacky premise and plays on that premise for intentional humor while Chasing the Moon‘s humor is more perplexing and confusing than that. And The Automatic Detective, while an absurd setting, isn’t meant to be parody or goofy at all.
Like so many elements of my books, humor tends to fall between two extremes, and while all of my books have some humor in them, some are definitely goofier than others. Like many discussions of my books, opinions vary quite a bit. I’ve been called too silly by some, not silly enough by others. While we all know that I am actually just right when it comes to my deft comedic stylings, some people don’t quite agree. Humor is just too damned ethereal to consider a common theme.
I do believe there are four themes that run through all my books. Strangely, I’ll admit I didn’t even notice them until other people brought them to my attention. Just goes to show that the artist doesn’t always understand what he’s doing, even while doing it. I also believe it’s why so many artists start becoming accidental parodies of themselves. Once an artist becomes aware of what he does, he risks losing his natural ability to do what he does. Although some artists do become better at what they do once they become aware of it.
Let’s hope I’m the second type.
The first theme, stated elegantly in one review, is the notion of Identity being different than Origin.
I might write about monsters and aliens, gods and mortals, but for the most part these beings are not solely defined by where they came from. Often, they don’t even have a very complex backstory at all.
This might be because I grew up in a relatively solitary existence. I was a very shy kid and spent a lot of time by myself. As such, I never really thought of myself as part of any group. It wasn’t as if I rejected groups, though I never really was part of any particular sub-group. I collected comic books but didn’t hang out with comic book readers. I watched Godzilla movies, but never was part of any fan club. I played video games, but when I was a kid, video games weren’t a culture. They were just something people did. Alone.
Even now, I admit to being uncomfortable with the notion of such sub-cultures. To me, they so often seem like a way of cramming our own personality into nice boxes of expectation. It’s why I cringe when people debate what it means to be a “real gamer”. And hardcore fandom has always been something I have hard time getting behind. Not because things aren’t worthy of fandom, but so often, it seems to serve as a shorthand for personality assessment where nuance would work better.
This is definitely why most of my characters start out as one obvious thing and then are (dare I say it?) different by the end. Vom the Hungering (from Chasing the Moon) might want to devour the universe, but he also is conflicted about that urge and trying not to (usually). Earl (from Gil’s All Fright Diner) might be a vampire, but being a vampire doesn’t make him any cooler than a regular person. And Emperor Mollusk (from Emperor Mollusk versus the Sinister Brain) is certainly a megalomaniacal genius, but he’s trying to put that tendency in a good direction.
Few if any of my characters are defined by what they happen to be, whether robot or alien, kobold or werewolf. It is that sort of cavalier disregard for origin that I think often gets my books mislabeled as goofy or weird. In most stories, if a character is other than human or unique in some way, it is what defines them more than anything. Almost every Vulcan on Star Trek is a Vulcan first, a character second. Almost every dwarf in every fantasy story will be gruff and greedy and hard-drinking. This isn’t bad writing. It isn’t actually too far from the truth. We are, all of us, under tremendous pressure to conform to standards set down by above (though who the hell above is, I’ll never know), and it’s easy to do because that’s the stuff we get exposed to early and often generally.
Which brings me to my second common theme: Outsiders.
With rare exception, almost all my protagonists are outsiders. They aren’t necessarily exiles, but they do tend to be on the edges of the world they live in. This is probably because I’m a bit of an outsider myself, and it’s a natural way for me to see the world. It’s also a natural way to set up conflict in any story. Mack Megaton (The Automatic Detective) is a robotic citizen in a biological world. There are other robots in the city, but even among them, Mack is an outsider, a guy who doesn’t quite fit in.
There tends to be a lot of conflict generated by who my characters are versus who the world wants them to be. Mack is a reformed warbot, but the subtext of the story is that no one is really quite sure how reformed he is. Not even Mack. Nessy (Too Many Curses) is a short, unimposing housekeeping kobold defined by her common sense, so she lives in a world where she is constantly underestimated, despite demonstrating competence and cleverness at every turn.
In my upcoming novel, Helen and Troy’s Epic Road Quest, Helen is a minotaur (a family curse) and Troy is an all-American perfect person. She’s bigger, stronger, and covered in fur, and it is something she and the world around her struggle with every day. Meanwhile, Troy, who is intentionally nearly perfect, must deal with a world where being perfect is expected of him at all times. Two different questions of identity, but a similar struggle all my characters must face. (As must nearly all of us.)
The third common theme is one of Transformation.
I bring this one up because I think it gets overlooked the most. My characters almost always change through the course of the story, but they do so without being obvious about it. Nessy the kobold is small and practical, and she remains small and practical by the end of her story. But she has also learned not to underestimate herself and found a true home. Emperor Mollusk IS a dangerous genius but he’s also found a little peace within himself by accepting and learning from those decisions that haunted him in the past. He isn’t penitent, but he has grown at least a little bit.
I hesitate to use the word subtle too often, but I think it’s definitely warranted here. My characters do have arcs. They do change, often changing the characters and world around them. They just do so without having to make a big deal about it. Whether or not that works for the reader depends on a lot of things, but I believe it to be true and wouldn’t mind if people noted it more.
The final common theme is Teamwork.
This is definitely something I believe in, and it is probably the only element I’ve always been consciously aware of since the beginning. Even my most self-sufficient protagonist, Emperor Mollusk, has a trusty giant bionic centipede and a reluctant bodyguard to rely upon. Heck, Lucky the god (Divine Misfortune) only really wins the day by seeing he’s in over his head and doing the smart thing that so few adventure characters are ever smart to do: Get backup.
Will these themes always be part of my work? I don’t know, but I do know that up to this point, they have been and for the time being, appear to be remaining so. And I’m pretty cool with that because they’re good themes to explore. Very human themes, even if visited by space squids and minotaur women.
So the next time someone asks you to describe what makes an A. Lee Martinez book so special, you’ve got something to fall back on if you should feel like it. Or you could always just tell them I’m a guy who writes about mutant dinosaurs and giant robot fights. Those are pretty awesome elements too.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 24, 2013
The Devil (Dinosaur) and Ted Sallis
I like the Marvel superhero movies, some more than others. Most are good enough, and a few are exceptional. But what I love most about these films is their potential.
When The Avengers teased the appearance of Thanos, a literal space god obsessed with the personification of Death herself, I realized that all bets might be off, and with stranger characters like Ant-Man and The Guardians of the Galaxy in the works, the possibilities of what could happen in the future are tantalizing to a guy like me, who has a deep and abiding love for the weirder, more obscure characters occupying the corners of the shared Marvel universe.
Iron Man 3 has deliberate ties to Man-Thing continuity. Man-Thing is strange horror comic character, a plant monster who lives in a swamp in Florida that is an interdimensional nexus. The supersoldiers able to regenerate and burn with their touch are very intentional references to the Man-Thing. The Man-Thing has already had one movie, but it was a terrible, grade C horror flick and one not worth talking about. But now, there’s the possibility that Man-Thing might just get a movie one day.
Okay, so it’s not much of a possibility. Still, better than nothing. I never would’ve dreamed that Ant-Man or Rocket Raccoon would ever appear on film, much less a mainstream big budget flick.
Can Squirrel Girl be far behind?
Yeah, she’s far, far behind. But there’s potential. While I don’t know how much of the established universe the new TV series Agents of Shield will deal with, it wouldn’t be difficult to insert Squirrel Girl as a recurring character. Please, do this, Marvel. Please, please, please. Really, I want this to happen so bad, I am almost willing to overlook the dreadful Civil War and Secret Invasion stories.
My ultimate wish for the Marvel movies is the eventual greenlight on a Devil Dinosaur movie. This isn’t as far-fetched as it might seem. If Pacific Rim manages to create a kaiju movie trend, then Devil would be the perfect Marvel crossover character. Funnily enough, Devil Dinosaur was created specifically to step beyond the pages of a comic book. The intention was to spin him out to his own animated series. It never happened.
Devil has been lurking behind the scenes ever sense, a presence who pops out every so of often, kept alive by writers who like him. While I don’t buy many comics these days (and none of the Marvel or DC stuff for two different reasons), I still buy anything where Devil Dinosaur appears on the cover.
But what I’d love even more than a Devil Dinosaur movie would be the chance to write it. The odds of this are slight, but if this series of events comes to pass, perhaps I’ll be popular enough to get the call. I am a prominent Devil Dinosaur fan. I am a professional novelologist. You could do a lot worse, Marvel.
Also, if anyone with any Marvel connections happens to be reading this, I wouldn’t mind at all writing a Devil Dinosaur mini-series. Call me. We’ll work something out.
On the slim chance none of this comes to pass, I always have The Pet Avengers to fall back on. They might not have Devil on the team, but they do have a saber-toothed tiger and Throg (a frog version of Thor). If that’s not a movie waiting to happen, I don’t know what is.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 21, 2013
Kickstarter and a Couple of Podcasts (Update)
Hello, ALM Action Force members.
Today’s mission is as simple as reading this short update of some stuff I have going on across the web. Couldn’t be simpler, could it?
Oh, and sorry these aren’t links. I’ve been having trouble getting links to work but my webguy is working on it and the problem should be fixed soon.
First up, I relaunched my Kickstarter campaign a while back, and if you’re itching for a short story collection from yours truly, go ahead and check it out. Spread the word’ if you’re so inclined: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/6....
I have a Tumblr account, where I’m posting artwork for your amusement. Mostly my own, but there’s a very cool logo for Magic Burger (from Helen and Troy’s Epic Road Quest) my wife designed as well. http://a-lee-martinez.tumblr.com/
Also, I have a couple of podcast interviews up:
One is at SF Signal:http://www.sfsignal.com/archives/2013...
The other is with The Grumpyhawk Collective: http://grumpyhawk.com/nerdery/a-lee-m...
So if you happen to have thirty minutes to kill and want to hear what a demi-famous person has to say about whatever random questions I’m asked, stop on by.
That’s about it, Action Force.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 19, 2013
Into Darkness (a review)
Hey, everybody. Just got back from seeing the new Star Trek film, and my mind swirls with thoughts about it. I find myself conflicted because I didn’t enjoy the film, but I wonder if it’s a wise thing to share my opinion on it. I try to maintain a policy of not stepping on anyone’s toes because I don’t want anyone to think I’m denying them the right to enjoy the film. It’s all opinion in the end, and I am not out to dismiss anyone else’s opinions on this or any other film.
More importantly, I never want to create a situation where my current or potential audience perceives a conflict between me and their favorite films and books. It is simply not the case, and regardless of whether you love something I hate or vice versa, I am always glad to have anyone and everyone as a reader.
But, as I’ve talked about lately, I’ve been working on the A. Lee Martinez brand. I’ve spent years limiting what I said and thinking carefully about everything I’ve posted on the internet, and while it has successfully kept me from making any enemies (at least as far as I’m aware) it has also prevented me from establishing my own identity, of becoming, for better or worse, a personality. After much soul searching, I think it’s held me back. As a writer in this modern era, I don’t have the luxury of hiding away. By electing to avoid controversy, I’ve prevented my brand from growing.
Yes, I know I keep talking about this branding thing, and I dislike it as much as you do. But it is just a cold, hard truth that in this media saturated world, brand is all-important. Star Trek: Into Darkness is a prime example. It exists because the Star Trek brand is too potent to be denied, and while I could probably argue, successfully, that the film wouldn’t succeed without the Trek brand attached, it is a moot point because the brand is the point.
Sounds kind of cynical when stated like that, doesn’t it?
It’s not meant to be. It’s just the way it works, and in the end, Into Darkness isn’t a terrible film. It’s just not a very good one. While I didn’t like it, I didn’t dislike it as strongly as I did both Tron: Legacy or Skyfall. So this review isn’t meant to suggest that this is a horrible film.
By the way, it should go without saying that you’re free to disagree. This is only opinion here. I do not think you’re dumb if you disagree. I do not think you are stupid. I don’t mind one bit if you loved the film. I say this over and over again because it’s far too easy on the internet for passions to flare. I mean this review not as a critique of those who loved it, nor of the people who made it, nor of anything else beyond my experience with this particular film. Saying all that, I’m sure someone out there will be offended by my dislike of the film, and to them, I can only ask the following favor:
DON’T READ ANY FURTHER.
PLEASE. JUST DON’T.
If you loved the film, then the following review will either annoy or anger you OR possibly change your mind about it. I don’t want to do any of those things. You can walk away now, and I will certainly not be offended by your rejection of my opinion. Glad you enjoyed the film. Agree to disagree.
There. Are they gone?
Probably not. So if you’re reading onward to quibble with my review, feel free to post a comment. As long as it’s not filled with name-calling and insults, I’ll be happy to approve it. I’m always up for a good discussion.
Also, it should go without saying but:
SPOILERS AHEAD!!
SPOILERS AHEAD!!
SPOILERS AHEAD!!
I wish I could find a way to make that flash and beep, but you’ve been warned.
Star Trek: Into Darkness isn’t a bad film. It’s just not very good.
To start with, the Into Darkness part of the title makes not a lick of sense. It’s just a cool sounding subtitle to throw onto it. It’s a quibble, but it shows the problem at the heart of the film. It’s more determined to look cool than to actually have much substance behind it. And it works marvelously in that regard.
The actors are all fine. The set design, the score, the dialogue, the action adventure pieces are all well-executed. There is nothing wrong with the direction and the special effects are all top notch. The adventure is bold and well-shot. The humor is humorous. Taken on all these levels, the movie works as a marvelous thrill ride / comfort food.
It’s only when we try to take it as more than that when we run into trouble.
This is why I can’t call Into Darkness a bad movie. It is exactly what it aims to be, and I have a hard time being critical of that. It’s nostalgia, repackaged, redesigned for a world where this is a practical business model. People don’t generally want new. They want the familiar in the guise of new, and this is what the Trek reboot has done so beautifully.
But, putting aside nostalgia and a fondness for Trek, the film has a lot of problems.
The story starts with Kirk and the Enterprise crew saving a primitive world from a deadly volcanic explosion. In doing so, they accidentally reveal themselves to the inhabitants, thus violating the prime directive. This is supposed to be a very bad thing to do though no good reason is given for it. There’s no indication that Kirk did any damage to the world and, considering the alternative, he acted laudably.
The entire plot point hinges on two unexplained elements. In the first place, Kirk is being chased by aliens because he ran off with their sacred scroll. Why he would do this is never explained. It’s just something he did. The second is that the Enterprise is located underwater instead of in outer space. There’s no clear reason for this either, other than to have an excuse for the aliens to see it rising from the ocean.
This pretty much sums up my primary complaint about Into Darkness. Things happen just because they provide drama. Not impossible things. Not unbelievable things. Perfectly plausible things that could be given perfectly plausible explanations. But no explanations are given because the film doesn’t deem it worth the time to explain them. Just being cool and dramatic is enough.
How you feel about this will probably determine your attitude toward the film. And, indeed, I’m not a fan of needlessly complicated explanations when simple ones will do, but their complete absence here becomes infuriating after a while.
Why does young Spock call old Spock? And if he can contact old Spock, can’t he simply inform Starfleet of the villain’s master plan, thus foiling it with a simple phone call?
Are there no other starships in orbit around Earth during the finale? Or is Earth just unaware of a starship battle just outside its atmosphere?
If it’s possible for a starship to fire a torpedo from the neutral zone to strike an unsuspecting planet deep in enemy space, then what’s to prevent Starfleet’s enemies from doing the same?
If a person can transport himself across intergalactic distances with a device only a little larger than a boombox, why bother with starships at all?
And if it’s possible to synthesize a resurrection serum from Khan’s blood, why not just make tons of the stuff to carry around with you on missions?
Individually, I could overlook any of these questions. Perhaps two or three. But all together, they add up to elements that were hastily added as plot points without considering the ramifications beyond that. This is the danger of writing science fiction. Transporters were already a get out of jail free card that the writers often had to make malfunction to keep dramatic tension. The reboot increased the power of transporters a thousandfold and then added immortality serum just for good measure.
Putting aside all these questions, the film really falls apart when it forgets its own rules. Namely, this is a reboot. Kirk and crew have only known each other a few years at this point. Perhaps only one or two. While they should have ties, those ties shouldn’t be the same as they have years later. While there’s every reason to believe Spock would be upset with Kirk’s (extremely temporary) death, there’s no reason to think he would be utterly heartbroken by it. Certainly not enough for him to break his cool Vulcan demeanor.
And, of course, he shouts “KHAAAAAAAAN!” because . . . well, Kirk did it in the previous Khan movie, so somebody had to. It comes across as absurd and silly, but that’s only if you care about Spock’s character or the logic of the moment. If you want to live in nostalgia, it’s just another bit of expected melodrama.
For me, the film falls apart as soon as old Spock appears. He serves no purpose other than to tell young Spock (and we the audience) that Khan is dangerous. It is, without a doubt, the clumsiest bit of writing you will probably see all year in any blockbuster. To its credit, the film already established how dangerous Khan is, so there seems to be little point in old Spock coming back just to tell us. Except it wouldn’t be an exercise in nostalgia if they didn’t throw us a bone in the shape of Leonard Nimoy, I suppose. It can only be for that purpose because old Spock doesn’t contribute to the film in any way beyond it.
This is also why Kirk must die in the exact way that Spock died in the original Wrath of Khan. True, Spock’s death was a defining moment for the film series. True also, he did return from the dead. The difference here is that at least Spock was still dead by the end of Wrath. Here, death is little more than a slap on the wrist, barely lasting fifteen minutes.
Also, Spock’s resurrection was only possible via a one-in-a-million chance. Kirk is resurrected via a magic blood transfusion. Even the film itself doesn’t treat it as a big deal. It’s as if even the Trek characters know he can’t stay dead long and only grieved for a few moments before remembering he was a protagonist.
But my final complaint is with Kirk himself. The film opens with the notion that Kirk is arrogant and needs to learn humility. Yet Kirk’s arrogance is backed up by everything he does. He is an infallible character. He breaks the (pointless) rules and even while he’s being lectured, you keep thinking he was right to do what he did and that Starfleet is wrong for berating him.
When the bad guy attacks the meeting of Starfleet officers, Kirk is the only one smart enough to suspect an ambush.
When he’s sent to go kill Khan and trigger a war with the Klingons, it’s Kirk who disobeys orders, makes the moral choice (with some prodding from Spock), and who prevents the bad guy from winning the day. Kirk continually makes brash decisions, and they are ALWAYS the right decision to make. It’s true that the Enterprise is almost destroyed by the bad guy, but this isn’t his fault. He’s hopelessly outgunned, overmatched. Even then, he didn’t make a foolish decision to stand and fight, but to wisely retreat.
In a way, Kirk’s forced character arc is the exact opposite of James Bond’s from Skyfall. In Skyfall, Bond proves to be an incompetent buffoon who accomplishes nothing but who somehow gets to stay a spy. Meanwhile, Kirk is supposed to learn the virtues of humility even though by the end of the film he has every right to believe himself nearly infallible. He’s thoughtful, bold, willing to take chances, willing to stand up for what’s right, and always worthy of the captain’s chair.
So what exactly was that speech about humility for other than to pretend there was a character arc at work? Like nearly all the elements of the film, it isn’t intended to pay off in any way. It’s just another cool moment to throw in, to be forgotten as soon as it is no longer needed.
Into Darkness is an amusing diversion, a pleasant little experience. It’s put together like a fine Swiss watch, designed to do exactly its job and not much more. For all its ups and downs, Star Trek used to have ambition. Now it looks like it’s finally abandoned that in favor of crowd-pleasing familiarity and a few thrills. It’s not the end of the world.
But it is disappointing.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 17, 2013
Canceling the Apocalypse
I am hyped about Pacific Rim.
It’s not just because it’s a giant monster (aka kaiju) movie.
It’s not because it’s an original story, not based on any established property.
And it’s not just because it’s a giant monster (aka kaiju) movie. (Yes, I mentioned that twice because it is worth mentioning twice.)
It’s not JUST because of those things, though those things are a very important part of why I’m looking forward to this film. But putting all that aside, there’s one essential reason why I’m looking forward to this movie.
It looks apologetically awesome.
I’ve written before that what I dislike most about fantasy and sci fi is how often its creators and fans feel the need to apologize for it. It’s assumed that unless fantasy is “serious”, it must be “kid’s stuff”. It’s why something like A Game of Thrones achieves “maturity” by downplaying the fantasy elements, adding nudity and swearing. I’m not against what HBO has done for fantasy. By adding these elements, they’ve made the genre more acceptable for mainstream audiences, and good for them. I’m not going to argue with success.
I’m not out to pick any fights. I’m all for many brands of fantasy and sci fi, from hard science fiction to fantastic space opera to high fantasy and anything and everything in-between. Humans come in many varieties, have many tastes, and I won’t put down anyone’s taste if they don’t put down mine.
But damnit, I do love bold, in-your-face adventure. I love larger-than-life heroes, deadly villains, the End of the World, last-minute saves. I love giant robots, dragons, space vampires, wizard duels, etc. And while shades of gray can be interesting to explore, I don’t mind clear good guys / bad guys and inspiring heroics.
So many trailers for this Summer come across as a bummer to me. Every one of them has a somber monologue that drains all my enthusiasm. Star Trek: Into Darkness tells us that Captain Kirk needs to learn humility. (Isn’t his brashness what we love about the guy?) Man of Steel bemoans the loneliness and isolation of Superman. (Also, saddles him with a dark blue costume to make him appear more relatable.) We are constantly told that this is SERIOUS and DARK and certainly NOT KID’S STUFF.
But Pacific Rim goes the other way. Every trailer that comes along says “This is adventure!” This is a movie to cheer about. Idris Elba’s monologue is the counterpoint to every dreary summary. Pacific Rim is about hope, triumph, and heroism. It’s about saving the world, and doing so in style.
It’s not just a kaiju film. It’s a joyful, energetic celebration of everything I adore about “kid’s stuff” sci fi.
There’s no reason to assume that the movie will be dumb or underwritten. I have every reason to believe that the characters will be interesting and the storyline will be involving. But it will also be about giant robots punching megamonsters, and if the trailers are any indication, it’s not just one or two punches either.
In a world where, increasingly, we’re told that heroes are old-fashioned and adventure is a distraction from watching characters mope, Pacific Rim gives me hope. Maybe there’s still a place for giant robots and sincere heroism even in mainstream fantasy.
I sure as heck hope so.
Also, ROCKET PUNCH!
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 13, 2013
Mission: Quite Simple
Greetings, Action Force.
While the ALM Action Force is still a work in progress, I’ve decided to make Monday the official Action Force Mission Update. The great thing about being a part of the Action Force is that your participation is completely voluntary, and you can do as little or as much as you like. But if you’d like to do more and just aren’t sure what to do, stop on by on Mondays and I’ll try to give you some guidance.
Today’s mission: Post an Amazon review.
Reviews matter. There’s little point in denying that. Yet my first book Gil’s All Fright Diner still has less than 100 reviews after 9 years. This ends up creating the appearance that I am a niche artist, which might be true but is something I would greatly love to change. So if sometime this week you should find yourself with a few extra minutes to spare, I’d greatly appreciate dropping by Amazon and posting a review. If you already have an Amazon account, this shouldn’t be hard at all. If you don’t, it’s not hard to create one.
To be clear, I am not looking for glowing reviews. I’m assuming if you’re visiting this site, you are something of a fan of mine, but that doesn’t mean I expect 5 stars “Martinez sets the world ablaze with his genius” style reviews. Just take a moment to post your honest opinion about whichever story strikes you as worth reviewing.
That’s your assignment, Action Force. If you choose to accept it.
Thanks again for all the support.
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 10, 2013
Q&A Friday
Hello, Action Force. Been a while since I’ve posted a Q&A Friday but received some intriguing questions so here we go.
Here’s a question i’ve had bugging me forever. What the f$%&^ is Steve Rogers’s (aka Captain America) motivation?
Liberty.
Seriously, that’s basically it. The guy believes in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. So much so, he’s willing to undergo dangerous experimentation and then put on a flag and fight Nazis. I could lie to you and suggest it’s more complicated than that, but it just isn’t. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
I know that it’s unfashionable to suggest that a character is genuinely heroic and that his heroism stems from a sincere Good Guy cliche, but such characters don’t have to be bland or unbelievable. It bothers me that we have become a culture that outright dismisses heroic characters as unrealistic or uninteresting. Granted, this happened for a reason. Many old fashioned heroic characters are unrealistic and uninteresting. I love the John Carter of Mars stories, but the character himself is pretty much a heroic blank who fights Bad Guys because he is a Good Guy.
But I happen to enjoy sincere Good Guys who are here to help if they’re done right. I don’t mind a character who is Admirable with a capital A. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the era of The A-Team and MacGyver and a hundred action movies featuring brave souls who fight for justice. Or maybe it’s because I also lived through the 90′s featuring overwrought anti-heroes like Spawn and Angry Batman. Either way, I don’t find more conflicted characters to automatically be better.
This is why I am not looking forward to Man of Steel. The question Superman faces isn’t WHETHER he’ll help people. It’s HOW. Clark Kent is a genuinely good person. He likes people. He wants to make their lives better. And he knows he’s been blessed with tremendous power to do so. The conflict at heart of a nuanced Superman story isn’t about fear or hesitancy. It’s about deciding how Superman could best use his abilities to improve the world.
Such stories of power and responsibility speak to human nature because it is often only when we seek to view the world outside ourselves that we become worthy of the mantle of humanity in the first place. Otherwise, we’re just a bunch of self-centered animals who happen to be smart enough to make machine guns and the internet.
This is also why I hate many modern comic book versions of Batman because in order to make Batman “interesting”, they transform him from a wounded man who has dedicated himself to helping others avoid the very pain he experienced to a crazed vengeance-seeking, emotionally-stunted man-child. That is certainly part of human nature too, but it is a part that we glorify all too often even as dismissing genuinely thoughtful portrayals of the best of our natures.
Also, Cap likes to punch Nazis. But then again, who doesn’t?
How many ideas do you have rolling around in your head for books? What I mean is do you even worry about the next book while you’re on the current one? Do you ever have that point of “oh crap what next?”
A very smart person once said, “Ideas are the most overrated part of writing fiction.”
That person was me, although I’m sure many other writers have said it as well.
I don’t have a running count of how many ideas I have at any one time because ideas are not discreet little packets of information that can be easily separated. It’s not uncommon for two or three ideas to merge into one final idea or for one idea to split into smaller pieces. That’s how the human brain works. Or maybe that’s how my human brain works. I haven’t tried using any others.
I never worry about the next book. It’s hard enough to stay focused on the current one, and thinking too much about the next is only a distraction. Part of me is convinced this novelology business is going to fall out from under me any day because writing fiction for a living is a sweet gig and someone is going to catch on that I enjoy it too much and should be made to work a job I dislike. Guess that’s just the pessimist in me.
Near the end of a book, I’ll often start having new ideas for another story, but even these tend to be half-formed thoughts. I believe in giving myself permission to write even without solid ideas because sometimes not knowing what you’re going to write is how you find new ideas. I never worry about finding my next idea though. Ideas are all over the place, and the real work of writing is just sitting my butt down and doing it. So that’s what I do.
If you did it over again, would you still opt to not include Teri and Phil’s race in Divine Misfortune?
For those of you who might not know it, Teri and Phil from Divine Misfortune are the mortal protagonists of Divine Misfortune, my novel of modern gods and the lives they lead. Think of it as Seinfeld meets The Odyssey. If you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend it. But of course, you’ve read it. It’s a modern American classic.
In previous posts, I’ve mentioned that Teri and Phil are African-Americans though this isn’t mentioned in the book itself. My reasoning was that they are not very “black” as our culture tends to define it, and I feared the criticism that might come from that. It is our nature to shove people into boxes and expect them to conform to the rules of those boxes. So I didn’t include their ethnic origins in the story because, ultimately, I didn’t want to deal with the headache.
But, yes, thinking about it now, I would mentioned it. Not only that, I would’ve used it as a springboard to discuss those expectations and how Teri and Phil dealt with the problems they often created. It wouldn’t have been hard to link to the story itself because the gods themselves deal with expectations and stereotypes just as much as the humans do. At the time, I guess I just wasn’t confident enough to explore the issue, and while I still stand by the book as an American classic, it could’ve benefited from opening the discussion a bit.
This is why Helen and Troy’s Epic Road Quest (my upcoming novel, out in July) does address those issues. Helen is a minotaur. (She’s actually Greek with a family curse of minotaurism, but the minotaurism is what everyone first notices about her.) And Troy is a Japanese American. Both characters struggle with their baggage. Helen more than Troy. And both characters are about the expectations placed on them, not just by their appearance, but by their reputations and abilities. I wouldn’t say it’s the heart of the novel, but it certainly comes up, informs the characters’ actions and how they are often viewed by others.
Interestingly, I stumbled across a long post on another site where someone suggested that one of my recurring themes is that of “Identity independent of cultural origin” and considering how often I’m writing about vampires who aren’t cool, robots that are trying to be good people, and monster gods who seek NOT to eat the universe, it’s hard to argue against that. Teri and Phil could’ve explored that issue as well as any other characters I’ve created, and sometimes, I wish I had.
But, hey, there’s always next book, right?
When are you going to write a kaju book?
It’s on the To Do List.
Although, given my druthers, I’d prefer to create a kaiju animated TV show or movie. I have an original character I draw regularly that is a giant duck monster. Think of him as living in that strange universe where Godzilla and Duck Tales intersect. I have a lot of the framework in place, characters, stories, etc. It’s just a matter of finding someone interested enough to pursue the project.
But I’m sure a book will be in the works some day soon. Stay tuned.
So the A. Leegion was disbanded? but I was up to Major General in my head!
Rest assured, the A.Leegion remains. The ALM Action Force isn’t a replacement for the A.Leegion. It’s merely another name for it. Officially (as decided by me just this moment, but it’s my idea so I get to decide what’s official or not), every member of the ALM Action Force is an A.Leegionaire. So feel free to use this knowledge as you see fit.
That’s it for this week’s Q&A. Hope you found it as enlightening as I did.
Catch you next time, Action Force.
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee
May 9, 2013
Kaiju Primer
Greeting, Action Force.
So yesterday, Emperor Mollusk versus the Sinister Brain was a featured daily deal on Amazon’s Kindle store, and it went swimmingly from what I can gather. The book was in the top 100 of Kindle sales ranking, and last time I checked, it’s still there, even though it’s now regular price. Might be a fluke with Amazon’s ranking updates and it’s hard to take these numbers too seriously not knowing how Amazon determines such things. But it was there, and I can only assume we moved a lot of electrons. So thanks to everyone who helped spread the word.
I’ve decided the ALM Action Force is an actual thing now. I am working on an official logo and motto and will eventually have a Action Force kit of some sort. Maybe a cool poster and a badge and an official registry of Action Force members. Everything else on the internet has a fan club? Why not me?
But if you’re worrying that this blog is going to degenerate into a series of self-promotional appeals, rest assured this will not be the case. Let’s put aside the Action Force business, and talk about something really important.
Giant Monsters.
This summer, there are two movies I’m pretty jazzed about. The first is Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 because I love the first one. It succeeded in being a fun, energetic, and original film, a sort of weird science meets The Muppet Show adventure. The sequel looks to have the same wonderful charm, and it does even have a few giant food monsters too. But these are not the giant monsters I’m here to talk about.
The other film is, unsurprising if you know me or have read any of my books, Pacific Rim. It’s been a while since we’ve had a big budget giant monster film in America, and it’s high time the genre got another shot. Generally, giant monster cinema falls under the heading Kaiju Films, and it is a time honored tradition, going back to the original black and white epic King Kong and beyond.
Kaiju is a genre I dearly love, but like any genre, it has its ups and downs. Today, I’d like to share with you my thoughts on the genre in general and hope that you’ll see the tradition Pacific Rim is coming from. I’m not saying you should go watch all these movies, but it might help you appreciate the subtleties of enormous monsters smashing each other to pieces for the fate of the world.
The two most obvious classics are the original King Kong and Godzilla. Both remain fine films and outstanding cinema in my opinion.
The B&W King Kong is still one of my favorite kaiju films. While the 70′s remake has its moments, and the tepid Peter Jackson version has a cool fight where Kong battles three T-rexes at once, the original is just great fun. The stop motion animation is still great, and the story is neat. There are some unfortunate elements that haven’t aged well. The natives couldn’t be more ridiculous, and there isn’t really an ounce of sympathy for Kong as he is stolen away from his home and forced to meet his tragic end through no fault of his own. But that’s part of what makes it art, folks. Not just dinosaur fights, but those elements of our past we tend to forget.
King Kong is more of an adventure film, but the original Godzilla is an obvious metaphor for the dangers of unfettered nuclear threat. Not surprising, considering it was made by Japan after having dealt with the horrors of the atom bomb. For the longest time, the American edit of the film removed or downplayed those elements in favor of a more traditional monster flick. But a few years ago, the uncut original was released, and it is a great movie. Though Godzilla is most renowned for fighting other monsters in increasingly absurd romps, the original is a somber piece about helplessness, destruction, and self-sacrifice. Godzilla isn’t friendly here. He’s just a force of nature who lives to destroy. Many of the familiar elements of Godzilla weren’t yet in place. By far, the least “fun” of the films I’m going to list, but also, a powerful piece of moviemaking.
I’m going to go ahead and mention the American Godzilla adaptation too. It often gets a bad rap as a stupid film, and I can see why if you were expecting Godzilla you might be disappointed by it. But for me, it is a part of the older tradition. I much prefer to think of the American film as an adaptation of The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, a film that came before the original Japanese Godzilla. Taken as an adventure story about a monster versus the military, the American film is a lot of fun. It still has some of my favorite kaiju action sequences, including one where Godzilla fights some submarines. Yes, I know it’s default to say the movie is terrible, but far from it, it’s a great action adventure flick featuring a monster wreaking havoc on a city. And because the monster is not invulnerable to conventional weaponry, there’s a real excitement to the action sequences. I know I’m in the minority on this one, but a film I rather enjoy.
However, in the end, my favorite type of kaiju story is where monster fights monster.
The Godzilla films have along and varied history, and they are a decidedly mixed bag. Rather than focus on the weaker films, I’d rather comment on the few that really stand out to me.
Godzilla 2000 was released in America shortly after the American version. In this film, Godzilla faces Orga, an evil alien bent on assimilating the King of the Monsters and destroying the Earth. The story is solid, and the FX are excellent. The final showdown as Godzilla battles a flying saucer, then Orga himself, is full of creative moments and outstanding execution. Really, just an amazing battle for the fate of the world with a jaw-dropping conclusion.
In the older films, a personal favorite remains The Terror of Mechagodzilla. I’ve said before how I hate villains who are just an evil version of the good guy, but Mechagodzilla is more than just a robotic version of Godzilla. Mechagodzilla shoots lasers, has finger rockets, and is just badass. The film features a second antagonist monster, Titanasaurus. Titanasaurus isn’t very powerful (and this is even stated in the film), but combined with Mechagodzilla, the King of the Monsters faces a serious threat. At one point, Godzilla is buried alive only to (spoiler alert) burst from the ground and continue the fight. This is just an outstanding kaiju adventure. Highly recommended.
There’s also Godzilla versus Mechagodzilla. This is actually the first appearance of Mechagodzilla, and Godzilla must team up with King Caesar, a legendary dog/lion kaiju to defeat the evil robot. One of my favorites, even if King Caesar is a bit goofy looking.
Really, I would recommend nearly any Godzilla film. They are almost all great, though they range in appeal from goofy to serious to thrilling. I would avoid Godzilla versus the Sea Monster and Destroy All Monsters. The sea monster is a disappointing antagonist, and Destroy All Monsters has a ton of Toho Studio monsters in it, but it also is just disappointing in terms of kaiju action.
Special recommendation to Godzilla, Mothra, King Ghidorah: All Out Monster Attack. It might be a mouthful, but it is a heck of a cool film. The twist is that in this particular film, Godzilla is the bad guy, and the other monsters are the prophesied monsters to save the day. That’s right. King Ghidorah is playing the good guy in this one, and while that threw me off at first, it has some great adventure and cool monster fights.
Also, Godzilla: Final Wars is a movie where Godzilla himself is transformed into an unstoppable juggernaut who smashes his way through the entire Toho Studios cast of kaiju. It’s terrific, over-the-top sci fi adventure.
Outside of Godzilla, I must acknowledge that my favorite kaiju series doesn’t have the big guy in it. No, as much as I adore the King of the Monsters, I find that the pinnacle of the art form was achieved in the Gamera series of films. I’m not talking about the original six films, which are a lot of fun, but the reboot that happened in ’95. These three films: Gamera: Guardian of the Universe, Gamera: Attack of Legion, and Gamera: Revenge of Iris are each a truly awesome spectacle.
While I think of Godzilla as the Schwartzenneger of kaiju, Gamera is akin to the Jackie Chan of the genre. Endlessly inventive, and with spectacular and engaging kaiju battles. If you don’t believe watching a jet-powered turtle have a mid-air battle with an evil alien isn’t high art, you will after seeing this series. Gamera is cast as the good guy, a super weapon from Atlantis out to save the world from one of their failed experiments. Each film of the trilogy explores a different element of the kaiju genre, and does so in surprising and clever ways.
In the first film, Gamera is psychically linked to a young girl. In the second, the link has become broken and while he’s not a bad guy, he also is a lot more reckless in his mission to save the Earth. There is a sequence in the third film that is truly mind-blowing in presenting the terror of having giant monsters battling in your city. The third film casts Gamera as an overworked hero who will fight on no matter what. And damnit if I don’t think of that level of determination in my own struggles.
I could go on with this all day. While not technically kaiju films, both Aliens vs. Monsters and How to Train Your Dragon have some amazing giant robots / monster elements. And there are plenty of lesser known kaiju flicks that might be worth your time. Frankenstein Conquers the World is incredibly strange but fun, too. Kaiju is a weird and wonderful genre, capable of intense goofiness, amazing adventure, and surprisingly relevant thoughts on what it means to be human.
Give it a shot, if you’re so inclined. If you like my books then you just might discover something it’s not so easy to dismiss as you once thought.
Any genre that features rocket punches and aliens cyborg chickens with buzzsaws in their chess must have something to recommend it, right?
Keelah Se’lai
Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,
Lee