What I read: Victims by Dorothy Uhnak
I'm not a huge fan of crime novels. Mysteries, yes. I LOVE mysteries. And I'm a big fan of television crime (CSI, Law & Order). I've just never found literary cops and robbers particularly interesting.
Victims, however, starts out good. The main cop protagonist is interesting, and the entire novel (at first) is based around the real-life Kitty Genovese case in which a woman was stabbed (several times) outside an apartment complex; her neighbors saw and heard it happen, but no one helped.
Using a similar set-up, 2/3rds of Victims focuses on interviews with the neighbors and their reasons for not calling 911. Uhnak does a fairly good job demonstrating a wide range of what is popularly called the Bystander Effect. There is a nice degree of tension between the protagonist, the famous reporter who wants to write about the neighbors, and the neighbors.
And then, the book completely collapses. It collapses because Uhnak falls back on the plot device of POLITICAL MACHINATIONS by POWERFUL PEOPLE.
There are really no words to express how unbelievably boring this plot device is. If anything can make me fall asleep while upright, it is POLITICAL MACHIzzzzzzzzz.
Like death, POLITICAL MACHINATIONS by POWERFUL PEOPLE is a writer's ultimate cop-out, a contemporary deux ex machina. The autopsy report was changed! Thousands of workers were bribed to keep their mouths shut! The reporter sells out for movie rights! Money buys off everyone!!
It's boring. (This may be why, while I enjoy crime shows, I lose interest the moment the Mafia enters the picture.) And it completely overwhelms the human element. The story is no longer about individuals struggling to get on in life; it's about THE POLITICAL MACHINATIONS of POWERFUL PEOPLE.
How can this type of art even speak to people? Other than conspiracy-theorist, paranoid-type people? Sure, if all a person wants out of life is a fear of big, bad forces OUT THERE--I suppose the art has some use. But I can believe in big, bad forces OUT THERE without the help of art. They're called volcanoes. And earthquakes. And, if I'm really insistent, asteroids. I don't need to use people to clutter up my vision of big, bad forces.
If I'm going to watch movies and read books, I expect something more human: something closer to the human condition. The trappings are unimportant. The exploration of human interaction is what matters. This is why I can watch crime shows, read romances, and gobble up fantasy and science-fiction. And then go out and read decent history books. Genre matters less than human connection, be it humorous, light, fantastical, bizarre, down-to-earth, etc. etc.
But plot devices that fall back on tired cliches about everyone being at the mercy of THE MAN--oh, please. Who cares. Go leave that message on someone else's machine.
Give me Columbo over POLITICAL MACHINATIONS any day.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
"T" is for Terrific (Trollope)
What I read: The American Senator by Anthony Trollope
Trollope is fun. Reading Trollope is rather like reading Dickens, Austen, and People magazine all at the same time. Trollope creates gentle yet ironic, deftly drawn characterizations. One of the most impressive achievements of The American Senator is that I ended up routing for the cold, manipulative femme fatale. Trollope does an excellent job depicting the reality of life for a single English woman in the gentry class circa 1900. The machinations of the femme fatale become understandable, even justifiable, the further you get into that world.
I don't think Trollope would have expected me to side so much with this character (Arabella). I think I was supposed to be bowled over by the sweet, kind, heartwarming mirror to Arabella. But Trollope is too good at what he does NOT to give Arabella a complex personality.
The book is also hilarious. Towards the end, the narrator tells us:
Despite liking Trollope so much, I probably won't be reading him again soon. The American Senator took me about 2 months. Seriously. It was like reading War & Peace except the names were easier to follow, and it was less depressing. But talk about long.
But I do recommend him!
Trollope is fun. Reading Trollope is rather like reading Dickens, Austen, and People magazine all at the same time. Trollope creates gentle yet ironic, deftly drawn characterizations. One of the most impressive achievements of The American Senator is that I ended up routing for the cold, manipulative femme fatale. Trollope does an excellent job depicting the reality of life for a single English woman in the gentry class circa 1900. The machinations of the femme fatale become understandable, even justifiable, the further you get into that world.
I don't think Trollope would have expected me to side so much with this character (Arabella). I think I was supposed to be bowled over by the sweet, kind, heartwarming mirror to Arabella. But Trollope is too good at what he does NOT to give Arabella a complex personality.
The book is also hilarious. Towards the end, the narrator tells us:
The duke had objected to the term "thoroughly bad girl," which had been applied by his wife to his niece. He had said that "thoroughly bad girl" was strong language, and when the duchess defended the phrase he had expressed his opinion that Arabella was only a bad girl and not a thoroughly bad girl. The duchess had said that it was the same thing. "Then," said the duke, "why use a redundant expletive against your own relative?" The duchess, when she was accused of strong language, had not minded it much; but her feelings were hurt when a redundant expletive was attributed to her.This is Monty-Python level humor! Great stuff.
Despite liking Trollope so much, I probably won't be reading him again soon. The American Senator took me about 2 months. Seriously. It was like reading War & Peace except the names were easier to follow, and it was less depressing. But talk about long.
But I do recommend him!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Iron Man and the Hulk: Conversation Between Mike and Kate
I recently saw Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk. I liked Iron Man, so much I saw it twice! I didn't care for The Incredible Hulk. I referred this conflict to Mike who presents the following explanations. (Mike's wife also prefer Iron Man to The Incredible Hulk, so this could just be a guy-gal thing. Mike tackles this posssibility as well as others.)
MIKE: The Incredible Hulk was fun for me because it, far more than Iron Man, really wove together and created the Marvel Universe on the screen. This is important because Iron Man and Hulk were the first two steps of a multi-movie franchise that will culminate in a couple years with the "Avengers" movie.
But it's not fair for a movie to be only accessible to the fans.
I think the main problem that exists with bringing the Hulk to the screen is that they keep trying for superhero when they should be going for more man-on-the-run western. The TV show got it right on some points, but many of the areas where the TV show got it wrong are the areas that the films also get wrong.
In truth, the Hulk is not and never was originally a hero. Jekyll and Hyde weren't heroes either.
KATE: This is an interesting point, Mike! I think it is notable how often the creation or alternate ego takes over in terms of interest. Frankenstein, for example, is actually the doctor, not the monster. The Beast is more interesting than the Prince. Dracula--who hardly appears in the original novel--gets more attention than the scoobie gang. The list goes on . . .
MIKE: The tragedy of Bruce Banner is that the Hulk is the consequence of his genius, and the price he paid to save a life. In the comics, there was no lab accident. Bruce Banner had created a bomb, a very powerful bomb. And when they were about to test it, a teenager wandered into the testing ground. Banner went and saved the kid, but he was almost too late: the blast went off, showering Banner in radiation, turning him into the Hulk.
I think the film does a better job than the Ang Lee Hulk (which is awful). A Hulk movie should, absolutely, be a chase movie. I think the film also does a great job of finding the humor in the circumstances. And, as I said, it really lays the foundation for the world that the next few Marvel films are going to exist in.
But marketing the film as a superhero flick is a mistake. While Banner has done good things, and is a hero in some ways, this is not a man out to save the world; he is seeking to save himself. And the Hulk, as an entity, is also not heroic. The Hulk can't be a hero because he embodies the worst of Banner: his rage, his guilt, his desire to be alone. Banner is seeking to reconcile himself: to bridge and repair his shattered psyche.
KATE: Speaking of heroes (what makes a hero, etc.), in my folklore class, I have used three traditional folklore images to explain modern superheroes:
1. The strong, down-to-earth countryman: Bill Bunyan, Superman
2. The wise-cracking Yankee: "The Yankee Peddler," Tony Stark
3. The backwoodsman or vigilante: George Magoon (famous Maine poacher), Batman
In all three cases, the hero is larger than life and, even if burdened by personal concerns, has some other larger objective.
MIKE: Now, in the film, when Banner is able to finally control the beast, to bend the Hulk to his will, THAT is when he becomes a hero. Not because he saves the city, not because he takes down a beast that his work unleashed. But, rather, because he is able finally to take the anger, fear, and other emotions that are raging beneath the surface and direct them; he is able to be constructive, instead of destructive.
Controlling our emotions and impulses can sometimes take heroic effort, and Bruce Banner's struggle controlling the Hulk is an amazing, though exaggerated, illustration of that struggle.
The problem with superhero movies is that, for most people, they are only compelling when the character is obviously human, like Spider Man or Iron Man. Superman or the Hulk are both difficult because they cannot go through the same things as a human hero. They can't always be hurt or screw up. The last Superman movie disappointed a lot of people, but that should not have been a superhero movie; it was more of a disaster movie, since Superman is more of a force of nature.
KATE: I think my dissatisfation comes in here. It isn't so much that I demand human characteristics, but that I prize cleverness over brute strength. I quite enjoyed the last Superman movie but what I enjoyed, when it came to the battle/action scenes, was Superman's choices. He makes quite active choices about who he will help next and how and when and where. You can see him thinking through the problem. This is true of Iron Man as well. Tony Stark is--in his blithe, capitalistic way--always thinking through his options.
In The Incredible Hulk, the action sequences were just . . . the Hulk throwing stuff. It was, I hate to say this, boring. (To be fair, I did enjoy the beginning of the movie: the chase stuff.) It reminded me of the critique of The Phantom Menace where the critic explains how much more satisfying the fight scene between old Obi-Wan and Darth is compared to the fight scene between their younger selfs. The fight scene between their younger selfs goes on and on and on and on and where's the emotional resonance? On the other hand, the fight scene between the older dudes is short and to-the-point and filled with emotional resonance.
That's how I felt watching The Incredible Hulk. He wasn't making choices, so I didn't care how many cars he ripped up. But when Superman decides to go back and lift Lex Luthor's island out of the ocean: THAT was cool.
MIKE: The strength of the Hulk concept is that through Banner, you have the protagonist and antagonist wrapped together in one person. A true Hulk movie would make the Hulk the villian with Banner and a close friend the heroes, working to overcome the Hulk and use him, when they can, for higher purposes.
The trouble, though, is that people want violence and action, and parents want their children cheering for the good guys. Which may be why Godzilla eventually went from Godzilla destroying the city to protecting it from other monsters.
KATE: There's a great philosophical problem here! The Hulk could struggle with whether the damage he unleashes as the Hulk is worth the good he could do if the power was controlled.
Mike also addresses the guy-gal issue:
MIKE: I think the Hulk resonates more strongly with men because rage, anger, guilt, stress are all emotions that a lot of men struggle controlling regularly. The Hulk is the end result of losing control: he is rage and emotion unleashed. To lose control, to fear cracking and having the emotions escape is something that all men feel to some extent.
KATE: I think this is an interesting point! And much more honest than the politically correct mantra that men and women are the same (I think women can do as much damage as men but not physically. It's a matter of straight-forward mechanics: the strongest woman in the world will never be as strong as the strongest man.)
I have had a few male students write essays on "Why the Hulk would win against Wolverine" or "against Superman," etc. In general, these male students are burly football types. I wonder, sometimes, how frustrated they feel--sitting cramped behind tables having a 5'2" 110 pound woman yap "Essay writing is fun!" at them--and if the Hulk speaks to them in some way. (By the way, they are also almost always my sweetest students.)
Mike gets the last word:
MIKE: But you are right: Hulk doesn't work as a hero. But I believe it's because Hollywood is trying too hard to make him one.
MIKE: The Incredible Hulk was fun for me because it, far more than Iron Man, really wove together and created the Marvel Universe on the screen. This is important because Iron Man and Hulk were the first two steps of a multi-movie franchise that will culminate in a couple years with the "Avengers" movie.
But it's not fair for a movie to be only accessible to the fans.
I think the main problem that exists with bringing the Hulk to the screen is that they keep trying for superhero when they should be going for more man-on-the-run western. The TV show got it right on some points, but many of the areas where the TV show got it wrong are the areas that the films also get wrong.
In truth, the Hulk is not and never was originally a hero. Jekyll and Hyde weren't heroes either.
KATE: This is an interesting point, Mike! I think it is notable how often the creation or alternate ego takes over in terms of interest. Frankenstein, for example, is actually the doctor, not the monster. The Beast is more interesting than the Prince. Dracula--who hardly appears in the original novel--gets more attention than the scoobie gang. The list goes on . . .
MIKE: The tragedy of Bruce Banner is that the Hulk is the consequence of his genius, and the price he paid to save a life. In the comics, there was no lab accident. Bruce Banner had created a bomb, a very powerful bomb. And when they were about to test it, a teenager wandered into the testing ground. Banner went and saved the kid, but he was almost too late: the blast went off, showering Banner in radiation, turning him into the Hulk.
I think the film does a better job than the Ang Lee Hulk (which is awful). A Hulk movie should, absolutely, be a chase movie. I think the film also does a great job of finding the humor in the circumstances. And, as I said, it really lays the foundation for the world that the next few Marvel films are going to exist in.
But marketing the film as a superhero flick is a mistake. While Banner has done good things, and is a hero in some ways, this is not a man out to save the world; he is seeking to save himself. And the Hulk, as an entity, is also not heroic. The Hulk can't be a hero because he embodies the worst of Banner: his rage, his guilt, his desire to be alone. Banner is seeking to reconcile himself: to bridge and repair his shattered psyche.
KATE: Speaking of heroes (what makes a hero, etc.), in my folklore class, I have used three traditional folklore images to explain modern superheroes:
1. The strong, down-to-earth countryman: Bill Bunyan, Superman
2. The wise-cracking Yankee: "The Yankee Peddler," Tony Stark
3. The backwoodsman or vigilante: George Magoon (famous Maine poacher), Batman
In all three cases, the hero is larger than life and, even if burdened by personal concerns, has some other larger objective.
MIKE: Now, in the film, when Banner is able to finally control the beast, to bend the Hulk to his will, THAT is when he becomes a hero. Not because he saves the city, not because he takes down a beast that his work unleashed. But, rather, because he is able finally to take the anger, fear, and other emotions that are raging beneath the surface and direct them; he is able to be constructive, instead of destructive.
Controlling our emotions and impulses can sometimes take heroic effort, and Bruce Banner's struggle controlling the Hulk is an amazing, though exaggerated, illustration of that struggle.
The problem with superhero movies is that, for most people, they are only compelling when the character is obviously human, like Spider Man or Iron Man. Superman or the Hulk are both difficult because they cannot go through the same things as a human hero. They can't always be hurt or screw up. The last Superman movie disappointed a lot of people, but that should not have been a superhero movie; it was more of a disaster movie, since Superman is more of a force of nature.
KATE: I think my dissatisfation comes in here. It isn't so much that I demand human characteristics, but that I prize cleverness over brute strength. I quite enjoyed the last Superman movie but what I enjoyed, when it came to the battle/action scenes, was Superman's choices. He makes quite active choices about who he will help next and how and when and where. You can see him thinking through the problem. This is true of Iron Man as well. Tony Stark is--in his blithe, capitalistic way--always thinking through his options.
In The Incredible Hulk, the action sequences were just . . . the Hulk throwing stuff. It was, I hate to say this, boring. (To be fair, I did enjoy the beginning of the movie: the chase stuff.) It reminded me of the critique of The Phantom Menace where the critic explains how much more satisfying the fight scene between old Obi-Wan and Darth is compared to the fight scene between their younger selfs. The fight scene between their younger selfs goes on and on and on and on and where's the emotional resonance? On the other hand, the fight scene between the older dudes is short and to-the-point and filled with emotional resonance.
That's how I felt watching The Incredible Hulk. He wasn't making choices, so I didn't care how many cars he ripped up. But when Superman decides to go back and lift Lex Luthor's island out of the ocean: THAT was cool.
MIKE: The strength of the Hulk concept is that through Banner, you have the protagonist and antagonist wrapped together in one person. A true Hulk movie would make the Hulk the villian with Banner and a close friend the heroes, working to overcome the Hulk and use him, when they can, for higher purposes.
The trouble, though, is that people want violence and action, and parents want their children cheering for the good guys. Which may be why Godzilla eventually went from Godzilla destroying the city to protecting it from other monsters.
KATE: There's a great philosophical problem here! The Hulk could struggle with whether the damage he unleashes as the Hulk is worth the good he could do if the power was controlled.
Mike also addresses the guy-gal issue:
MIKE: I think the Hulk resonates more strongly with men because rage, anger, guilt, stress are all emotions that a lot of men struggle controlling regularly. The Hulk is the end result of losing control: he is rage and emotion unleashed. To lose control, to fear cracking and having the emotions escape is something that all men feel to some extent.
KATE: I think this is an interesting point! And much more honest than the politically correct mantra that men and women are the same (I think women can do as much damage as men but not physically. It's a matter of straight-forward mechanics: the strongest woman in the world will never be as strong as the strongest man.)
I have had a few male students write essays on "Why the Hulk would win against Wolverine" or "against Superman," etc. In general, these male students are burly football types. I wonder, sometimes, how frustrated they feel--sitting cramped behind tables having a 5'2" 110 pound woman yap "Essay writing is fun!" at them--and if the Hulk speaks to them in some way. (By the way, they are also almost always my sweetest students.)
Mike gets the last word:
MIKE: But you are right: Hulk doesn't work as a hero. But I believe it's because Hollywood is trying too hard to make him one.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Titanic Movies!
Every April, I intend to post about the Titanic, and every April, I forget. (The ship went down April 14th/15th, 1912.) Unbelievably--considering how crazy this semester has been--I remembered this April. To commemorate the occasion, I have posted part of an essay I wrote several years ago about Titanic movies.
I confess to a brief, but productive, obsession with the Titanic shortly after Cameron's movie appeared. I wasn't concerned with the ill-starred romance of the leading characters, but I did want to learn more about the ship itself. My voyage led me from Exploring the Titanic by Robert D. Ballard (he headed the crew that rediscovered the ship in 1985) to Voyage on the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady, a Dear America book by Ellen Emerson White. I read newspaper articles about teenage girls visiting Titanic cemeteries in Halifax. I made dinners based on Titanic recipes. And I rented a lot of movies.
I'll start with the worst which is Titanic (1996), starring, amongst others, George C. Scott and Tim Curry. This is a "many stories in one" movie (think Independence Day): two ex-lovers meet after many years and have a passionate but oddly unsympathetic affair; a thief is reformed by a young woman from steerage; a nanny takes a baby on board a lifeboat, leaving her employer and employer's daughter behind. And finally, there is the villain, Tim Curry.
There is no over-arcing plot line (other than the sinking ship, of course). Even the villain does nothing in particular until he rapes the young woman. The rape has all the savage pointlessness of true rape and underscores the pointlessness of the entire movie; you feel that it was stuck in for the sake of having something happen (because ships hitting ice bergs just aren't enough!). The villain's sudden leap into depravity is less than credible. In comparison, Billy Zane's character appears a profound examination of human fallibility, and I kept wishing he would show up and start shooting people. It would have been much-needed relief to dialog that is less creative than a Harlequin romance. [MUCH less creative; Harlequin romances are actually quite well-written.]
S.O.S. Titanic (1979) is somewhat better, only because of its phenomenal and underused cast: Helen Mirren, David Warner (as Lawrence Beasley for you Titanic buffs) and Ian Holm (as an overwrought Ismay). Underused is an understatement. Helen Mirren appears in three scenes and has barely enough lines to fill a lifeboat. The movie is told mostly from the passengers' point of view and is reasonably accurate. In fact, S.O.S. Titanic is one of the few movies to show the second class passengers. Most movies ignore them or, as with Cameron, include them but never explain who they are; in Cameron's movie, the young woman who accosts a steward in the hallway and asks him what is going on is a second class passenger.
Titanic (1953) with Clifton Webb and Barbara Stanwyck also ignores the second class but achieves, at least, a cohesive plot. An American woman (Stanwyck) is unhappily married to a pompous English man (performed with effortless sarcasm and provocative eyebrows by Clifton Webb). Her children, she decides, are turning into prigs and must be returned to the wholesome U.S.A. as soon as possible (to Michigan or Minnesota or Montana—somewhere cold). Her husband follows her on board and family rows ensue until the ship starts to sink, and everyone becomes overwhelmingly fond of each other. There is a scene where the sinking passengers bellow "Near My God To Thee" at the top of their lungs. Throw in stiff upper lips, plush gowns, magnificent furs, eyes meeting across the lifeboats plus a high-pitched emergency siren and you have Titanic (1953).
A Night to Remember (1958) returns us to the plot-device of vignettes. It is the most accurate of the movies except for a few howlers that were, at the time, non-preventable. Due to Robert J. Ballard and the National Geographic Society, we know now that the ship split in two rather than going down in one piece. It is doubtful whether the ship came apart as dramatically as portrayed by Cameron. Nevertheless, the possibility is missing from A Night to Remember.
A Night to Remember does have the best hero: the true-to-life Lightoller, played by Kenneth More. The remarkable Lightoller behaved with aplomb while the ship was sinking. He literally went down with the ship and lasted out the night on top of a overturned lifeboat with a dozen or more other fellows. Unfortunately, aside from Lightoller, the movie has no central plot or character, nothing to hold the viewer's interest. The reality of all Titanic films is that the Reckoning is inevitable. It is what happens before the Reckoning that provides drama, which means each movie must contain truly sympathetic and compelling characters. The script writers can't rely on Keanu Reeves showing up with his ninja moves or on Bruce Willis blowing up a building. The characters are everything.
And the lack of compelling characters is a major snag in all the above movies plus Cameron's. The Cameron production gains the audience's sympathy (for those of us who aren't hoping Billy Zane will shoot Jack) through the use of soppy romance. However, other than Victor Garber as Thomas Andrews, everyone (including the hero and heroine) behaves hysterically. This isn't compelling; it's just tiresome. Cameron (who, in general, I quite like) went for very bold strokes. At times, his bold strokes get downright soul-destroying. There is no evidence, for example, that Murdoch shot himself or any one else, and his home town was notably and justifiably ticked off by that part of the movie.
The worst factual crime of Cameron's movie, however, is the plot device that the third class passengers were deliberately locked into steerage. The truth is not only more human but more distressing. They were forgotten about until it was too late.
In fact, like all human dramas, there was more apathy on board the true Titanic than has been caught in any of the films. People simply did not believe the ship was going to sink. Connie Willis has illustrated this aspect of the Titanic excellently in her fiction book Passage, and it is perhaps appropriate that I end my review with the following suggestion:
Good books about the Titanic:
A Night to Remember by Walter Lord
Passage by Connie Willis (fiction)
"Unsinkable": The Full Story of the RMS Titanic by Daniel Butler
The Story Of The Titanic - As Told By Its Survivors by Lawrence, Beesley; Gracie, Archibald; Lightoller, Commander; Bride, Harold (edited by Winocour and Jack Beesley)
Last Dinner on the Titanic: Menus and Recipes from the Legendary Liner by Dana McCauley
Voyage on the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady by Ellen Emerson White (fiction)
I confess to a brief, but productive, obsession with the Titanic shortly after Cameron's movie appeared. I wasn't concerned with the ill-starred romance of the leading characters, but I did want to learn more about the ship itself. My voyage led me from Exploring the Titanic by Robert D. Ballard (he headed the crew that rediscovered the ship in 1985) to Voyage on the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady, a Dear America book by Ellen Emerson White. I read newspaper articles about teenage girls visiting Titanic cemeteries in Halifax. I made dinners based on Titanic recipes. And I rented a lot of movies.
I'll start with the worst which is Titanic (1996), starring, amongst others, George C. Scott and Tim Curry. This is a "many stories in one" movie (think Independence Day): two ex-lovers meet after many years and have a passionate but oddly unsympathetic affair; a thief is reformed by a young woman from steerage; a nanny takes a baby on board a lifeboat, leaving her employer and employer's daughter behind. And finally, there is the villain, Tim Curry.
There is no over-arcing plot line (other than the sinking ship, of course). Even the villain does nothing in particular until he rapes the young woman. The rape has all the savage pointlessness of true rape and underscores the pointlessness of the entire movie; you feel that it was stuck in for the sake of having something happen (because ships hitting ice bergs just aren't enough!). The villain's sudden leap into depravity is less than credible. In comparison, Billy Zane's character appears a profound examination of human fallibility, and I kept wishing he would show up and start shooting people. It would have been much-needed relief to dialog that is less creative than a Harlequin romance. [MUCH less creative; Harlequin romances are actually quite well-written.]
S.O.S. Titanic (1979) is somewhat better, only because of its phenomenal and underused cast: Helen Mirren, David Warner (as Lawrence Beasley for you Titanic buffs) and Ian Holm (as an overwrought Ismay). Underused is an understatement. Helen Mirren appears in three scenes and has barely enough lines to fill a lifeboat. The movie is told mostly from the passengers' point of view and is reasonably accurate. In fact, S.O.S. Titanic is one of the few movies to show the second class passengers. Most movies ignore them or, as with Cameron, include them but never explain who they are; in Cameron's movie, the young woman who accosts a steward in the hallway and asks him what is going on is a second class passenger.
Titanic (1953) with Clifton Webb and Barbara Stanwyck also ignores the second class but achieves, at least, a cohesive plot. An American woman (Stanwyck) is unhappily married to a pompous English man (performed with effortless sarcasm and provocative eyebrows by Clifton Webb). Her children, she decides, are turning into prigs and must be returned to the wholesome U.S.A. as soon as possible (to Michigan or Minnesota or Montana—somewhere cold). Her husband follows her on board and family rows ensue until the ship starts to sink, and everyone becomes overwhelmingly fond of each other. There is a scene where the sinking passengers bellow "Near My God To Thee" at the top of their lungs. Throw in stiff upper lips, plush gowns, magnificent furs, eyes meeting across the lifeboats plus a high-pitched emergency siren and you have Titanic (1953).
A Night to Remember (1958) returns us to the plot-device of vignettes. It is the most accurate of the movies except for a few howlers that were, at the time, non-preventable. Due to Robert J. Ballard and the National Geographic Society, we know now that the ship split in two rather than going down in one piece. It is doubtful whether the ship came apart as dramatically as portrayed by Cameron. Nevertheless, the possibility is missing from A Night to Remember.
A Night to Remember does have the best hero: the true-to-life Lightoller, played by Kenneth More. The remarkable Lightoller behaved with aplomb while the ship was sinking. He literally went down with the ship and lasted out the night on top of a overturned lifeboat with a dozen or more other fellows. Unfortunately, aside from Lightoller, the movie has no central plot or character, nothing to hold the viewer's interest. The reality of all Titanic films is that the Reckoning is inevitable. It is what happens before the Reckoning that provides drama, which means each movie must contain truly sympathetic and compelling characters. The script writers can't rely on Keanu Reeves showing up with his ninja moves or on Bruce Willis blowing up a building. The characters are everything.
And the lack of compelling characters is a major snag in all the above movies plus Cameron's. The Cameron production gains the audience's sympathy (for those of us who aren't hoping Billy Zane will shoot Jack) through the use of soppy romance. However, other than Victor Garber as Thomas Andrews, everyone (including the hero and heroine) behaves hysterically. This isn't compelling; it's just tiresome. Cameron (who, in general, I quite like) went for very bold strokes. At times, his bold strokes get downright soul-destroying. There is no evidence, for example, that Murdoch shot himself or any one else, and his home town was notably and justifiably ticked off by that part of the movie.
The worst factual crime of Cameron's movie, however, is the plot device that the third class passengers were deliberately locked into steerage. The truth is not only more human but more distressing. They were forgotten about until it was too late.
In fact, like all human dramas, there was more apathy on board the true Titanic than has been caught in any of the films. People simply did not believe the ship was going to sink. Connie Willis has illustrated this aspect of the Titanic excellently in her fiction book Passage, and it is perhaps appropriate that I end my review with the following suggestion:
"Forget the movies," says this movie buff. "Read the books!"
Good books about the Titanic:
A Night to Remember by Walter Lord
Passage by Connie Willis (fiction)
"Unsinkable": The Full Story of the RMS Titanic by Daniel Butler
The Story Of The Titanic - As Told By Its Survivors by Lawrence, Beesley; Gracie, Archibald; Lightoller, Commander; Bride, Harold (edited by Winocour and Jack Beesley)
Last Dinner on the Titanic: Menus and Recipes from the Legendary Liner by Dana McCauley
Voyage on the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady by Ellen Emerson White (fiction)
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Kate's Television Update
Not really television since I watch everything on Netflix now--but television shows:
The Mentalist: I started watching this show this month. It has all the fun stuff I love: single-plot episodes, mysteries (even though they are very easy to figure out--and I don't even TRY), an off-kilter hero, a smidgen of romantic tension . . .
And it has Simon Baker! I watched almost the entire first season of The Guardian because of Simon Baker (well, and Dabney Coleman), and The Guardian wasn't my type of show at all (angry people, soap opera plot lines, etc.). I confess, Simon Baker is one of those actors who makes me go weak at the knees. There's a lot of good-looking guys on television, and some of them are even sexy. But Simon Baker is . . . wow: 5'10"; compact (this is my word for builds that are somewhere between stocky and skinny); attractive in a non-squared jaw, indeterminate way. I like his hair too, but that's just a bonus. Seriously, give me Peter Falk (whose hair I also like), David Caruso (not his acting, just his appearance), and John Castle (for you BBC fans), and I'm purring like a cat.
Bones: I confess that I still prefer Season 3 to all the other seasons. I'm not sure why. I honestly think Season 4 is better written (I agree with Eugene that the episode where Booth keeps referring to a dead guy as "translated" is absolutely hilarious). I think Season 4 just strikes me as a little frenetic. Still, kudos to the writers and directors for not totally ruining the show (yet; sorry, my pessimistic side is showing).
House: Not caught up yet.
Scarecrow & Mrs. King: The DVDs for Season 1 finally came out. I loved this show when I was younger, but I was afraid it wouldn't live up to my memory.
It has! It is still corny and adorable and sweet and surprisingly funny on occasion. It is actually an interesting precursor to Bones (with the roles reversed although husky-voiced Kate Jackson reminds me of Emily Deschanel). I have to remind myself that Bruce Boxleitner (who I like) would have seemed very edgy in the 80's. He's just soooo clean-cut.
Numbers: I made my way through all the available seasons on DVD and started over. The one thing stands out the most: Rob Morrow is a very good actor.
I don't require very good actors on television, just hard-working ones. But Rob Morrow is surprisingly good. He is paired with a B-list crowd (especially after Diane Farr left), but they are all good enough, and he doesn't require an A-list crowd to give A-list work.
The Mentalist: I started watching this show this month. It has all the fun stuff I love: single-plot episodes, mysteries (even though they are very easy to figure out--and I don't even TRY), an off-kilter hero, a smidgen of romantic tension . . .
And it has Simon Baker! I watched almost the entire first season of The Guardian because of Simon Baker (well, and Dabney Coleman), and The Guardian wasn't my type of show at all (angry people, soap opera plot lines, etc.). I confess, Simon Baker is one of those actors who makes me go weak at the knees. There's a lot of good-looking guys on television, and some of them are even sexy. But Simon Baker is . . . wow: 5'10"; compact (this is my word for builds that are somewhere between stocky and skinny); attractive in a non-squared jaw, indeterminate way. I like his hair too, but that's just a bonus. Seriously, give me Peter Falk (whose hair I also like), David Caruso (not his acting, just his appearance), and John Castle (for you BBC fans), and I'm purring like a cat.
Bones: I confess that I still prefer Season 3 to all the other seasons. I'm not sure why. I honestly think Season 4 is better written (I agree with Eugene that the episode where Booth keeps referring to a dead guy as "translated" is absolutely hilarious). I think Season 4 just strikes me as a little frenetic. Still, kudos to the writers and directors for not totally ruining the show (yet; sorry, my pessimistic side is showing).
House: Not caught up yet.
Scarecrow & Mrs. King: The DVDs for Season 1 finally came out. I loved this show when I was younger, but I was afraid it wouldn't live up to my memory.
It has! It is still corny and adorable and sweet and surprisingly funny on occasion. It is actually an interesting precursor to Bones (with the roles reversed although husky-voiced Kate Jackson reminds me of Emily Deschanel). I have to remind myself that Bruce Boxleitner (who I like) would have seemed very edgy in the 80's. He's just soooo clean-cut.
Numbers: I made my way through all the available seasons on DVD and started over. The one thing stands out the most: Rob Morrow is a very good actor.
I don't require very good actors on television, just hard-working ones. But Rob Morrow is surprisingly good. He is paired with a B-list crowd (especially after Diane Farr left), but they are all good enough, and he doesn't require an A-list crowd to give A-list work.
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