Category: Movies and TV


Interview for The Christian Science Monitor

Given the current spate of video game movies (Warcraft, The Angry Birds MovieRatchet & Clank, Assassin’s Creed), I was recently interviewed by a reporter for The Christian Science Monitor regarding the challenges of adapting games to the big screen. You can check out the full article here.WarcraftMovie

OoooOOooOooooo…OOooOoOOooo

That’s my best textual attempt at the Dr. Who theme song. If you’ve ever heard it, you’d get it.

For a while there, the only BBC programs I watched were products of its natural history division, generally featuring David Attenborough (sorry Sigourney Weaver, Sir Attenborough is still my favorite Planet Earth narrator… I mean, even the word “grass” sounds so much more magnificent when spoken with his accent! Grahwwwss. /prostrate). Brian and I also enjoyed BBC Scotland’s quirky comedy-drama, Monarch of the Glen, with its memorable cast of whiskey-loving curmudgeons, nobly tormented lairds and ghillies, and sassy lasses, not to mention the eye-popping, up-country scenery.

But never mind that. Recently, it’s all about the new Dr. Who episodes (made since 2005). Growing up, I used to watch the old series with my brother, so I knew Tom Baker as the poofy-haired, scarf-wearing Doctor long before I encountered him again as Donald MacDonald in Monarch. I remember with fondness the corny production values of the original series, so I was delighted to see the same Time Lord enemies reappear in all their low-budget glory in the new seasons. Daleks still look like they ripped the lightbulbs off some aging starlet’s dressing-room mirror, and it’s still hard to take them seriously as they threaten heads of state with what look like toilet plungers and egg beaters. The new shows from BBC Wales are overall much glossier and more professionally stylized, but I’m glad they still retain something of the original’s campiness.

I got hooked into watching after stumbling across some episodes from Season 4, featuring David Tennant as the Doctor and Catherine Tate as Donna Noble, the Doctor’s sidekick. I was especially impressed with “Midnight,” and the two-parter beginning with “Silence in the Library,” and I resolved to go back to Season One of the new series, though this meant tolerating a season of Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor (okay, he grew on me a little…) and learning to appreciate the dewy-eyed, pouty-lipped but ultimately endearing bravado of Billie Piper as Rose Tyler.

The most recent Doctor seems to be a throwback to the celery-wearing Doctor of seasons past, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, because the series just makes me happy!

Turtles All the Way Up

I had time for a quick read this weekend: Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven, an unusual work of science fiction that playfully straddles that fine line between the mundane (pot-smoking landlords in Portland, Oregon) and the utterly fantastic (alien turtles). I’m primarily fascinated with this little book because of its vision of ecological crisis and the power of the human psyche to either impose or deny such environmental realities. The protagonist, George Orr (no doubt a reference to George Orwell as well as the hero’s characteristic either/or indecisiveness), is an “effective” dreamer, meaning some of his dreams have the effect of altering waking reality, at times even rewriting history. Afraid of his ability, Orr turns to dream-inhibiting drugs, gets in trouble for overdosing, and finds himself remanded to the care of an “oneirologist,” Dr. Haber.  Haber, after learning of Orr’s power, attempts to use it to solve the world’s problems in the most heavyhanded of ways. And the world, at this point, is chock full of problems: primary among them overpopulation and air pollution.

The Lathe of Heaven was first published in 1971, and it imagines a world, in fact, several worlds, in which even Americans are just more masses of undernourished people crammed together under eternally leaden skies, courtesy of toxic greenhouse gas concentrations. Thus, in an increasingly surreal series of treatment sessions, Dr. Haber sets about trying to end world war, overpopulation, racial discrimination, and more through Orr’s dreams, but the solutions never turn out quite the way he intended, while exacerbating the moral dilemma for Orr. The imperative to end discord based on skin color results in turning everyone the same uniform gray; the direction to promote world peace results in Orr dreaming up an alien invasion, which in effect forces the nations of Earth to cooperate in their first interstellar conflict; the implanted suggestion to dream of more elbow room results in a plague that kills billions of people, depopulating the overcrowded Earth.

Clearly, given the many chapter epigraphs from Chuang Tse and Lao Tse, Le Guin was influenced by the tenets of Daoism in writing this story, and Orr is a Daoist protagonist in that he does not actively strive to better humanity but recognizes the moral rightness in just letting things be. He is also most comfortable in a world that does not give preeminence to the human but recognizes the human’s part in a much broader range of entities and concerns.

Yet the story makes me uneasy with both Haber’s well-meaning but ethically bankrupt dominance and Orr’s self-abnegating passivity. Technology here is suspect, in the form of Haber’s Augmentor machine, and the book’s climactic scene features Orr’s one real action: exerting himself to hold reality together long enough to turn the Augmentor off. By book’s end, Haber is in the lunatic asylum, and Orr is happily at work designing real, old-fashioned kitchen cookware. DIY > dystopia?

On a final note, Orr’s ambivalent relationship to Dr. Haber via the process of hypnosis and directed dreaming as well as his later, and more positive, collective dreaming with the alien race of turtles, were an eerie precursor to my viewing of Inception this weekend, which is a movie premised on the notion of “shared dreaming.” See my comments on the movie and its relation to game worlds at the Critical Gaming Project Blog.