How Dare It Not Be True! Weighing Information in Our Information Age

I recently watched Moneyball--which I mostly enjoyed. Then I went online to discover more about the story. As can be expected, I encountered a website that said (I summarize):

Oh, sure, the movie is fine, but of course, it isn't exactly what happens. Hollywood is trying to pull a fast one on us again by changing things--the movie brings in an audience but does it at the expense of the truth; Hollywood is just perpetuating falsehoods.

Yadda yadda yadda.



This character was invented!!

I find this reaction puzzling, mostly because I've always had the opposite reaction: I never believe anything people tell me. Consequently, I'm always pleasantly surprised when a Hollywood movie turns out to be more real than not.

I felt the same way about House, M.D.--okay, so doctors don't actually run those tests, but golly, who knew those were even real tests to begin with?!

I don't consider myself especially cynical. Skeptical maybe. Not cynical. My disbelief in any particular piece of information is not (sorry, House) based on the assumption that everybody lies.

Instead, I appreciate the difficulty of disseminating information consistently and accurately.

Information is constantly pouring at us from various outlets. And all of it is delivered by people with particular invested interests. (I happen to hate the word "bias" because it implies that it is BAD for people to have an invested interest in a particular perspective; it isn't BAD; it's normal.) I might be inclined to trust some people over others--the scientists in a lab doing experiments over the politician who talks about said experiments. But even the scientists have invested interests--for money, for fame, simply to be right (hence the Cold Fusion Scandal).

This invested interest doesn't mean that the information is automatically wrong. As stated above, I'm not a cynic and don't much care for the conspiracy-theory approach to life that refutes anything that doesn't line up with a pre-determined set of variables. Although I am strictly speaking an empirical rationalist, I remain a religious person because it forces me to consider a set of variables that might upset the applecart. Which doesn't mean I do upset the applecart--I'm far more interested in seeing how and if the variables can be balanced.

Which is another way of saying I don't think Bigfoot exists, and I'm going to run with that for now, but I wouldn't be terribly surprised if he showed up.

Actually, I subscribe to the Mythbusters' approach, which states that what has currently been proven is what we know. Except I like to remind myself how quickly such knowledge can change; just consider what people know now versus what people knew then and what people in the future will know compared to what people know now.

We can always learn more.

And that's basically where I always end up: we can always learn more. Getting twisted into knots over Moneyball comes from perceiving information as static and one-sourced. It's the same as parents freaking out because the child is reading fairytales from Disney, and Disney is just too, too bourgeois and violent and sexist, blah, blah, blah.

Why not read Disney and Anderson and Perrault and Lang and even Grimm (if the little tyke can take it)? Why not read Michael Lewis's book and Bill James's book and watch the movie and research Billy Beane on the Internet?

It is customary for such alarmist writers as the one summarized above to contend that only THEY do such research--they are writing for all those poor slubs out there who take the movie on faith. People in my Master's program would make the same argument about dumb poor people who are bamboozled by big business advertisements.

Except . . .

I'm left with the impression that the people who worry about this stuff are far more susceptible to the one-source-one-argument idea than the viewers and readers they supposedly fret about.

Sometimes It's Okay to Make Exceptions . . . Avengers, Stargate, and Person of Interest

To start with, three plot approaches that I deem completely stupid:

1. Death
2. It's just a dream.
3. The lady or the tiger

However, now and again, a writer/director/actor uses these approaches to good purpose.

*WARNING: Spoilers appear in each section below.*

DEATH

In general, I think death is the ultimate writing cop-out. It's High School Writing 101: I don't know how to end my story, so I'll kill someone! When in fact, it is far more difficult to "solve" the plot problem by keeping characters alive, kicking, and intrusive than by making them disappear.

It's also easy profundity. Kill off a character: get a pass for life. If anyone dares to criticize, well, that person is a pollyanna who can't accept harsh realities, blah, blah, blah.

Face it: lazy writers kill characters out of sheer laziness.

And yup, I am including Joss Whedon. In fact, I hold him more responsible than I do your average HS Freshman because (1) he should know better; (2) he's a good enough writer not to fall back on death as a solution.

The exception: Coulson's death in Avengers (which Whedon actually claims he didn't plan!).

I was a fan of Coulson from the beginning. I got such a kick out of that guy in Iron Man who kept bothering Pepper Potts. I liked his cool laid-back attitude and the easy way he marshaled reinforcements at the end of the movie.

So I was sad about his death in Avengers (I do realize that technically, he is still alive). But it was such a remarkable pay-off for a total bit part, a small character who grew throughout the films, got his own short, and then got us to giggle over his Captain America obsession. He may have been Avengers' red shirt, but for fans of the franchise, he was the one consistent character who could make us feel a need to avenge. He was beloved, so the death actually mattered--it wasn't just a throw-away.

IT'S JUST A DREAM

Nope, I'm not going to talk about Inception.

Usually, the "it was just a dream" approach makes nonsense of the viewer/reader's investment. Oooh, we got you to care, but guess again!

Exception: "Changeling," Stargate SG-1, Season 6. Teal'c dreams that he is a member of SG-1, then that he is a member of a firehouse. The viewer knows--or thinks she knows--that SG-1 is the reality even though Teal'c as a fireman makes a good deal more sense in the "oh, I don't have to suspend my beliefs or disbeliefs" sense.

Except it turns out that both are dreams. The reality is that Teal'c is dying as he shares his symbiote (or, in the fireman sequence, his kidney) with his mentor. The dreams are a coping mechanism.

What makes the dreams even cooler is that Daniel Jackson--as an ascended being--plays a role in helping Teal'c cope. The Stargate writers did an excellent job not closing themselves off to the possibility of Daniel's return. It is sometimes hard to remember which season he was technically not in--his name and guest appearances are used so effectively in Season 6, he is as omnipresent as a regular.

By showing up in the dream sequences, Daniel makes the dreams real; they may be Teal'c's imaginings, but they occur while Daniel is present--and although he is present as a "psychologist," his last line to Teal'c ("I haven't left your side") clarifies that he has been present the entire time as his ascended self. It makes the dreams much more than "oops, we never really meant that to happen" events. They matter.

THE LADY OR THE TIGER

The Lady or the Tiger refers to a short story by Frank Stockton. Like many people, I read it in high school.

I hated it! The story basically revolves around a choice: will the princess provide her ex-lover with a beautiful lady or condemn him to death by tiger?

At that precise point in my life, I decided that I would never, ever, ever end a story in such a way. (Since then, I've learned the wicked truth: as the writer, I know what my character chose, but that doesn't mean I have to tell the audience: hee, hee hee.)

Still, I dislike open endings in general. "Oh, do your job and just tell us. Why leave us wondering?"

Exception: And then I saw the end of "Cura Te Ipsum," the fourth episode of Person of Interest, Season 1.

Here's the final exchange between Reese and a serial yuppie rapist:

Andrew Benton: Please, you y-y-you don't want to do something that you're going to regret.
John Reese: Which do you think I'll regret more - letting you live or letting you die? [Insistently] Andrew, help me make a good decision.

Actually, the entire dialog is well-worth reading as Benton and Reese discuss the possibility of change, the use of fear to control behavior, and the meaning of "good."

The episode ends on Reese's line. We are never told what he decided (I'm assuming; I haven't seen beyond Season 1 yet: the first disc of Season 2 will arrive from Netflix soon!). Reese leaves the viewer with a true philosophical problem, not some simple-minded "either/or" issue. What does one do with evil? What can be prevented or helped when an evil person (Benton isn't merely bad) is eliminated? On the other hand, what unintended consequences might be thrown into motion? What about the good guy? What might this action do to him? Reese has taken charge of Benton to protect the innocence of the good doctor who intended to kill him herself. Reese didn't want her to taint herself:

John Reese: I lost that part of myself a long time ago... not sure if I can find it... not sure it matters anymore. Maybe it's better this way, maybe it's up to me to do what the good people can't. Or maybe there are no good people, maybe there are only good decisions.

Not every rule may be made to be broken. But literary rules certain can be. Stargate, Avengers, and Person of Interest broke the rules right. 

Damsel Under Interrogation

Chapter 6 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel under interrogation on my novel page!

Dulcibel : A Tale of Old Salem, by Henry Peterson

Damsel as Witness

Chapter 5 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel as witness on my novel page!

Tabitha Ann Holton

F is for Film Tense

Initially, I thought I would only have one "F" author--to my surprise, I ended up with five or six. I went ahead and added a couple whose books I've never read (or can't remember reading) but I have seen the movies!

I start, however, with an author whose stories I have read:

http://ashenwings777.deviantart.com

Faulkner, William: I'm a big fan of William Faulkner. I naturally read "A Rose for Emily" in high school (and college). My favorite piece by him is "The Bear" found in Go Down, Moses. His style of writing is sublimely evocative, sort of like reading Isaiah, only, you know, readable.

Feather, Jane: I wrote about Jane Feather recently. She is a skilled romance writer! But I must confess: I dislike her heroines.

Fforde, Jasper: I read several of the Thursday books when they first came out and enjoyed them. I didn't keep up.

I'm a big fan of the classic (some would say cliché) narrative arc; I read mysteries and romances over and over again. However, some book series seem less like classic arcs and more like one-trick ponies. Seth Grahame-Smith's Pride & Prejudice & Zombies was funny and . . . okay, that was nice. I feel the same about the Thursday series. Not that I wish these writers ill--I'm all about writers being able to make a living (and creating/contributing to a popular series is the way to do it)!

Fielding, Henry: I read Tom Jones in college and saw the movie with Albert Finney (watch Tom Jones; then watch Murder on the Orient Express; then go, "Wow!"). I don't think I disliked the book, but I'm afraid I have a problem with Fielding because of his utterly unfair Shamela. Fielding was just as susceptible to distressed females as Pamela's creator; Richardson just irked him.

Fitzgerald, F. Scott: Of course, I read The Great Gatsby--you think any college would give me an English degree if I hadn't read Fitzgerald's American classic!? I haven't, however, seen the latest movie.

Flagg, Fannie: Fannie Flagg's book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, which became the movie Fried Green Tomatoes, is one of those books that I think I read, yet I mostly remember the movie--or at least the end of the movie. 

Fluke, Joanna: I read several books from the Hannah Swensen series and enjoyed them. I always get a kick out of the mystery/recipe combo. I gave up after awhile and explained why in a post about Buffy (and other vampire fiction). Here is my reason in summary: 

In book 5, Harris begins to head Sookie down a path that so many female suspense/mystery writers seemed compelled to take: the Road of Multiple Suitors. I can only surmise, based on the Twilight series' existence and success, that female writers and their readers enjoy fantasizing a princess-quest allotment of suitors for their heroines. Too many female-written mysteries contain if not several suitors, at least two who vie unceasingly for the heroine's attention. I have no very high opinion of the heroines and almost no opinion of the suitors (get a life already, people).

Forster, E.M.: I don't think I've ever read an E.M. Forster book (maybe 1/2 of one once), but I've seen plenty of his movies! Room with a View (fun!), Howards End (depressing), Where Angels Fear to Tread (depressing). I can't say I feel compelled to read his books.

Forester, C.S.: I haven't read anything by C.S. Forester either. However, my mother is a fan of the Horatio Hornblower series, so I know quite a lot about the books from discussions with her. And I've seen the BBC series starring Ioan Gruffudd. I think the series is impressive, and Gruffudd does an excellent job as the titular character. This makes his less than excellent performance in Fantastic Four all the more puzzling.

My theory: Gruffudd couldn't figure out what he was doing in Fantastic Four. Of course, neither could Chris Evans, but Chris Evans coped by mugging endlessly to the camera, i.e. not letting the movie get him down. Since Chris Evens went on to  prove his ability (as Captain America), my advice to actors: even if it is a stupid movie, don't let anyone know through your acting. (In "British Television is a Small Place" World, Jamie Bamber also plays a role in the Horatio Hornblower series.)

Francis, Dick: Yup, I've read a few Dick Francis novels. Unfortunately, they belong to the detective-who-gets-beat-up variety of mysteries, not the investigation-in-a-small-town variety and don't interest me that much. I don't consider them more or less realistic than any other type of mystery, simply not my cup of tea.  

Fowler, Karen: Another movie that I haven't seen: The Jane Austen Book Club! I have read the book, though. I'd say, "Ah, another novel capitalizing on Austen," but geez, who I am to talk!

Damsel in Custody

Chapter 4 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel in custody on my novel page!

Old Police Station (Built 1879) 

Alexander P. Kapp

Armageddon: What a Hoot!

Thornton and Willis

Lately, I've been watching disaster movies. It interests me whether they are accurate or not; I also enjoy a good story (disaster movies have automatic classic plots: alarm, destruction, the end).

Lately, I watched Deep Impact and then, somewhat by mistake, Armageddon.

Deep Impact was better than I'd remembered and according to the on-line astrophysicists, fairly accurate (to a point; it is also glaringly inaccurate in other ways). I still think the ending is rather daffy--when the reporter goes home to stand with her father under a crashing tsunami. So maybe, she couldn't get away from the evil tidal wave in time, but I'm a big advocate of trying. (If one of these ever aims for Maine, I'm heading for the top of the highest mountain and taking my cats with me; yes, okay, Maine doesn't really have mountains, just enormous hills, but still . . . )

All the on-line astrophysicists agree that Armageddon is just dreadful (and I'm not a huge fan of Ben Affleck although I adore Will Patton), so I decided to give it a miss. However, I forgot that it was still in my inter-library loan request queue.

When it came in, I decided, "Eh, why not?"

First of all, this is not a movie that is taking the science of asteroids even a little seriously. And it knows it. (Deep Impact takes itself very seriously.) And it really doesn't care. The asteroid is an excuse to take a bunch of "roughnecks" (redneck oil rig drillers) and put them somewhere in space. End of reasoning. Dead stop.

Jason Isaacs without long, blond hair.

Second, it's hilarious. Honestly funny. I was sort of worried that it would be a lot of so-called funny humor that is really just an excuse for people to make dirty jokes or talk about farts. But Bruce Willis--who is a gifted straight man--and Will Patton--also a gifted straight man--are backed up by a fairly gifted assortment of actors with strong comedic timing. I thought Billy Bob Thornton was splendid as the no-nonsense but willing to take a chance NASA director. I always get a kick out of William Fichtner (who was born into the world as guy-who-would-have-played-Nazis-if-he'd-been-alive-and-working-in-1940s-Hollywood). And Lucius Malfoy's Dad shows up! (Although I didn't know that until I went through the credits; I honestly don't recognize Jason Isaacs without long, blond hair.)

The action is way, way, way over-the-top. I reached a point, where I just had to wait for an action sequence to end to figure out what it was all about. And there are TONS of them; the movie starts BANG with scenes that usually end a movie.

The consequence of all these action scenes is a somewhat slow middle where they just pile on each other with no real purpose. Still, the movie is completely and totally and utterly what you expect it to be: girlfriend left to cry (Liv Tyler does this with such grace, you don't feel that she is pathetic); boyfriend left to try to make the final sacrifice; father left to save the world (and really, you should have seen that coming). It's a hoot because the movie knows exactly what it is doing and doesn't care that people might say, "Oh, I saw that coming!" "Oh, that's such a cliche!"

So [shrug] it's a cliche: so what? Who doesn't want to see a bunch of good guys show up at the last minute to help another bunch of good guys? And who doesn't want to see Bruce Willis convince someone to do something for the world (i.e. America) at the last minute? And why not watch the world get saved again?

In any case, this movie falls less into disaster territory and more into sci-fi/Die Hard territory.

It's just fun.