CSI, Haggard and Fun Television

CSI: Vegas

So far, this season of CSI: Vegas has been all over the place. It has produced rather pointless dramas--glitzy but utterly substanceless. And then it has given us some good episodes, such as last week's about the priest. When the priest says to Grissom, "I wanted to be a father and a husband," I thought, "Yes! Finally, a believable motive!" When Ballykissangel had Father Clifford contemplate leaving the priesthood, they couldn't come up with a plausible motive, and the show suffered. In order for a believing, committed priest to leave the priesthood (and not lose his concept of his own soul), he would have to believe that he was "called" to another role in life. CSI got that bit of psychology dead on; the other interchanges regarding religion were also well-written.

On the other hand, the episode with the evil teenagers was awful in terms of plot development and preachy dialog. I mean, what was that all about? I felt like the writers sure wanted to say something, but sure didn't know how to say it, so we got a bunch of platitudes instead. Again, the episode relied too much on the visuals. Don't get me wrong. I think the music video quality of LV's visuals can be downright stunning. But I start feeling manipulated when the visuals take the place of plotting or insightful dialog.

I do like the way Grissom and Sarah's relationship is playing out in the workplace.

Rider Haggard

Rider Haggard was the original Da Vinci Code guy. He didn't write gnostic-gospel type stuff, but he wrote the original archealogist chase novels. And I have to say, Dan Brown looks pretty wimpy in comparison. In She, which I'm reading now (Haggard also wrote King Solomon's Mines), Haggard invents an ancient text, obligingly translates the ancient text into Greek letters, then translates that into Greek cursive and THEN, translates that into English. There's about a chapter of this kind of thing in She. Well, thank you, Haggard. This creation of a whole imagined past is much more in the Tolkien tradition than the Brown tradition.

Poirot and Cool Television

I was watching a Poirot episode the other day. Hastings and Inspector Japp are walking along a wharf. They skirt a couple of men playing a chess game with huge pieces. I've seen this episode before, but this time, I thought, "Wait a minute," and backed up. Yup! Two guys in 30's style dress, playing chess with human size chess pieces. I went back a few more frames and yup, you can see them from the window of the hotel before the close-ups.

This is so cool. You see, Poriot is a period piece, and the episode is set at a seaside resort. What the chess pieces mean is that someone, whilst researching 1930's seaside resorts, came across this huge chess piece stuff and decided to stick it in the episode. For all of 1 minute!

I love that. I love that people care to do stuff like that. I love that there are writers and craftspeople and set designers and directors out there who think that it is worth the expense to hire two non-speaking actors, design extra props (or borrow them from somewhere) and film a sequence including said props, even though the props are mainly background. All for the sake of . . . ambience, tone!

Of course, this sort of thing gets really expensive, which is why Joss Whedon, who does it quite often, makes networks nervous. But I love it that there are people who think it is worthwhile to do stuff like that.

CATEGORY: FARES

Star Trek Kids

I'll start with Star Trek: Next Generation since Star Trek: Original did not have an ongoing child star (unless one counts Chekhov). Wesley: Wesley was supposed to be the brilliant genius boy of the show. Hence, he immediately became the recipient of all the loathing people feel towards "I can fix the warp engine in six easy steps" type characters.

This was a pity since the actor (Wil Wheaton) was a somewhat better actor than he was given credit for. Not a great actor. Just better than the aura of genius-child led viewers to believe.

Out of the Next Generation children, I myself far preferred Alexander, and I thought the Worf-Alexander episodes were some of the best Next Gen did. Alexander is Worf's kid and a small bundle of constant and opinionated motion.

Overall, however, I credit Deep Space Nine with the best children: Jake and Nog. The wonderful thing about Jake and Nog is that neither of them was expected to be part of the operations on the space station. Secondly, Jake especially was a downright likable kid, being decent without being either overly Pollyanish or overly bratty.

The nice thing about Nog was that he pushed beyond the assumptions of his culture but didn't become too human. This was true, actually, for the entire House of Quark, wherein Quark (who lives far from his home world) remains wholly himself while expanding beyond his culture's expectations. (This was to an extent one of the themes of the show; Odo and Garak also experience separation from their homelands and are thereby required to adjust and adapt against their wishes.)

On Voyager, interestingly enough, most of the children were seen in relationship to 7-of-9: Naomi Wildman and Icheb. I thought the Icheb character especially effective. In his case, the bright boy of Starfleet persona was somewhat more believable than with Wesley. You feel that this isn't a little adult but a somewhat gawky yet kind teenager who just happens to be bright. He was also a good counterfoil to 7-of-9, and I count it a point in the actor's favor that a (tepid) sexual tension existed between Icheb and 7-of-9; a 17 year old boy, no matter how long he was kept in stasis, would have to deaf, dumb and comotose NOT to react to 7-of-9.

As I understand it, Enterprise had no children. Archer does have a dog which brings one back around to Next Gen and Data's cat, Spot. Not that children and animals are necessarily equated, but I did grow very fond of Spot. (I enjoyed Data's poetry on the subject). I would have liked to see Data get a kid. Like Voyager's Doctor, Data could always supply good fodder for the plot mill.

CATEGORY: TV

Read Read Read Read Read Read Read

I am one of those people who checks out way more library books than I actually end up reading. I don't feel guilty about this because I worked at a library in my early 20's and learned then the connection between circulation numbers and increased budgets--as well as the connection between circulation numbers and discards, so occasionally I'll even check out a book I own in order to strengthen that book's circulation numbers. (My apologies to my sister who is a librarian and prefers "real" numbers over deliberately manufactured ones.)

Books are like candy to me. Or like beer to people who frequent bars (although I'm sure there are poeple who frequent bars for other reasons--friends, etc.--than the alcohol, just as there are lots and lots of people who attend libraries for the sake of the internet and the soft arm chairs). In general, choosing a book is almost an instinctual process for me. I am a sucker for well-designed covers, but a well-designed cover, or blurb, isn't enough to move the book onto my pile.

With non-fiction, I will often read the first paragraph or skip to the middle and read a passage. With non-fiction, the author's style is paramount. I have read great non-fiction books on subjects that don't especially interest me simply because the style was attractive. And I've put back books about subjects that interest me because *yawn* *yawn* the style put me to sleep on my feet.

With fiction, slightly different approaches ensue. I am, I admit, a tad careful over new authors. I almost always glance at (even if I don't check out) the sci-fi, fantasy and mystery books. Every now and again I get lucky and start up a new author. I discovered Sarah Monette this way. And Holmes on the Range. With fiction, however, the emotional commitment is far higher than with non-fiction. The book, if I like it, will take over my world for a day or three days or a week (however long it takes to finish), and I want to be prepared. And yes, I am the sort of person who reads the end in order to see if I really want to put myself through the rest (see the movie Alex & Emma).

All other selections fall into the categories "Tried and True" or "New Book/Known Author." Agatha Christie is tried and true. As are Georgette Heyer, Ngaoi Marsh, Catherine Aird, J.R.R. Tolkien, Connie Willis. I love rereading books although some, like the Narnia books, I have to put off rereading for long stretches. There isn't much point in rereading when you can practically recite the stuff by heart.

"New Book/Known Author" is more of a crap shoot. There are authors like C.J. Cherryh of whom I will read anything she writes (although currently, I'm sticking with the Foreigner series for time management purposes). I trust her utterly. Connie Willis is the same. The same is true of Alexander McCall Smith. Others, like Charlaine Harris and the truly creative Kerry Greenwood and even Patricia McKillip, I respect but am more leery towards. Some of their books are really good. Some aren't and in some cases, as with Harris' vampire series, the series starts to fade on me.

And some authors I read once and never touch again. It isn't that I get bored with the series or that I think one book is less rewritten than another. Often, it is simply that the one book interested me and nothing else does. Douglas Coupland's Microserfs is an example of this. I loved Microserfs, yet I've never wanted to read anything else by Coupland. The other books might actually be better. But with so many books and so little comparative time, one must be (a little) choosy.

And then, of course, there are the books, like Da Vinci Code and Gibbons' The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, that I get out and don't read and get out and don't read and get out and . . . why don't I just give up already!

Books I've checked out recently:

I'm in the middle of Agincourt by Juliet Barker--great style, not finished.
The Aeneid by Virgil--pretty stellar, almost done; never read it before!
Revolutionary Characters by Wood--good beginning, seems interesting but due tomorrow
Virtu by Monette--sequel to Melusine; I'm rereading Melusine first
Three-Act Tragedy by Agatha Christie--one of her least known mysteries
Collected Plays of Agatha Christie--I own it but it's in a box somewhere, and I don't want to bother to fish it out
Holmes for the Holidays--tried and true; great collection of Sherlock Holmes stories
New Alexander McCall Smith book--Dream Angus
Exodus: Why Americans are Fleeing Liberal Churches for Conservative Christianity--finished; quick read; okay, not great
Blenheim--will probably never get to
Behold, Here's Poison by Georgette Heyer--tried and true
A bunch of books on film criticism for my Comp class
A bunch of books on science/general knowledge--for referencing
A book on writing; I always get these out, don't read them and take them back unopened.
Jane Eyre--read it before; might be time to read it again
Evolution-Creation Struggle by Ruse--pretty interesting but a bit slow in parts; 1/3 of the way through

CATEGORY: BOOKS

The Confessable Pleasures of People's Court

I am occasionally home in the afternoons these days and sometimes, while making lesson plans, I catch some of that wacky daytime television. It is admittedly pretty awful, and the number of psychology-lite shows is truly astonishing. So when I want some real grit, I turn to People's Court.

I get a huge kick out of People's Court for several reasons. The first reason is that the announcer makes zero attempt to be suave. It's pure over-the-top Barnum & Bailey ringmaster stuff: "He's accused of being a cheapskate." "She's a woman with a mansion and SHE wants payback." The point being that I don't mind trite and tacky as long as everybody knows it is trite and tacky.

The other reason I enjoy it is Judge Marylin Millian. She really is the pick of the crop amongst daytime judges. First of all, she is fun to watch. Second, she has a real knack for sizing up people (the trick with these shows is to remember that the judge has seen all the complaints and whatnot before the case gets on TV; she just uses the television portion to verify evidence; so when it looks like she is cutting people short--and this is true for all the TV judges--she is really just moving on from evidence that she has already looked over) as well as her ability to put in plain speak commonsense rules of life.

I look on it as a kind of therapy. I can get very frustrated with my students sometimes, and it is refreshing to have someone else say all the stuff I'd like to say but can't.

For example, there was a lady on one day who agreed to take care of another lady's dog (for money) and then the dog got out and the lady who was supposed to take care of it didn't want to pay for the lost dog. The judge pointed out that if you agree to take care of someone's dog as a service, and you lose the dog, it really doesn't matter much whether or not you INTENDED to lose the dog. You still lost it.

This is enormously refreshing although I'm sure that, like Dr. Laura, it'll get old after awhile, and I'll go back to watching Rumpole of the Bailey episodes while I figure out how to make grammar interesting. I never did understand why people who listen to Dr. Laura would NEED to call her. I KNOW what she is going to say. How could you possibly be surprised that she doesn't think you should have a baby by your drunken, abusive boyfriend who is twenty years older than you? Why would you bother to call and get yelled at?

I think it is "But this time it is different" syndrome. Now, in matters of the heart, I think there is some truth to the "But this time it is different" protestation. I'm not advocating relationships with drunken, abusive boyfriends, but I really don't think there is a one-size-fits-all solution to personal relationships out there. (But people sure want to believe that there is--hence all the psychology-lite shows.)

But with the law, well, the law is the law. Even when Judge Millian feels sorry for people, hey, if you don't have the proof, you don't have the proof. And if you came to court without proof, nice having you but you just lost your own case. And boy, that's nice to hear. I don't think of myself as an especially harsh person, but I get very weary sometimes of all the reasons students have for not getting their work done each week. (Although I try to remind myself that from their perspective, it is one excuse; from my perspective, it is number one thousand and three hundred twenty eight.) If you want to earn 3.0 credit hours, come to class and do the work. Why complicate it with a bunch of excuses?

I think this means I'm getting old.

In any case, it's nice to watch a show where people who behave badly by commonsense standards are told they are behaving badly by commonsense standards. And where women who have babies by drunken, abusive men are told they are stupid. But the men still have to pay child support.

CATEGORY:TV

Sherlock: Brett and Everett

I recently watched Rupert Everett as Sherlock Holmes in The Case of the Silk Stocking. I enjoy Everett in general and, on paper, you'd think he'd make a perfect Holmes. He is almost too handsome, but he has the classic Holmes' profile. He is tall, saturnine. He exudes an off-kilter vibe.

As Holmes on the screen, however, he is all wrong. He comes across as bored aristocrat, a la his role in The Ideal Husband. He is too genial on the one hand, too off-hand on the other. At one point, he comes into Watson's apartment and sprawls on a sofa opposite Watson's fiance. As he exchanges witty conversation with her, he does not come across, even vaguely, as a highly critical and intense misogynist. Most disappointing, he doesn't even come across as particularly brilliant.

I think it is a misuse of Everett. As a detective aristocrat, he would be perfect. He is far more Wimsey than Holmes.

To be fair, I am comparing Everett to Jeremy Brett. I consider Granada's Sherlock Holmes series to be the most brilliant on record with Brett as the standard bearer for all future Holmes. Brett not only has the perfect profile, his face has more roughness, more vulture-like qualities than Everett's. He is a coiled spring, a contained manic-depressive who leaps, at a moment, from low to high energy. He NEVER sprawls. He is private, self-contained with a brain that works 24/7. He is much more Monk than Wimsey. He is also intensely middleclass (this is important to the context: Watson and Holmes are gentlemen, but they are NOT aristocrats; they came out of a class that considered its middleclass status preferable to aristocracy; Queen Victoria had made middleclass conservatism cool).

I also love Granada's Watsons: David Burke and Edward Hardwicke. They play Watson as an intelligent professional man. His intelligence makes Holmes' brilliance more apparent. Neither of them are buffoons. And both of them, Hardwicke especially, have an immense kindliness of manner, displaying decent, gentleman-like behavior at every turn.

Finally, what is so wonderful about Granada's Holmes, produced by Michael Cox, is that it captures the feel/essence of the stories without being simply retellings. Brett's influence and the director's influence on the outcome is apparent. The stories are fleshed out with more details, more perspectives, more nuances--you feel that this is truly Holmes come to life. On the other hand, the series displays a great deal of respect for Arthur Conan Doyle and for the stories.

This is a huge contrast to the latest Miss Marple mysteries (2004) where the writers continually alter HUGE hunks of the original stories. I endured them for awhile, but eventually the producer(s)' contempt for Christie's craft got to me. They alter plot lines. They change Christie's characterizations. They even switch murderers! It never seems to occur to them that the reason people like Christie is because she tells a good story. She wasn't an intellectual writer, but she was a stunning craftswoman, and these would-be adapters aren't even half that good.

And I don't expect them to be. But when you are offered decent material, use it! In comparison, both Michael Cox and Brian Eastman (who does the Poirot movies) have exhibited a strong comprehension of the power and structure of the original stories as well as an ability to transform and visualize that comprehension.

Back to Everett--it didn't bother me that they made up a new story. Making up new stories about Holmes is a time-honored tradition. But their Holmes simply wasn't Holmes. Why not just make the film about some 1890s aristocrat who gets dragged into doing a bit of detecting? (Answer: they wanted to make money off the Holmes' name.)

CATEGORY: TV