The Literate Geek

An Age of Enlightenment

2010-06-10T23:21:00.000-07:00

So it’s been a couple of years since I’ve posted here, but for good and valid reasons, I think. When I began this blog, I was at a point where I needed to make some decisions about what the next step in my life would be, and the first concrete move I made was to enroll in school to (finally) achieve my bachelor’s degree. And I got it, with honors, no less.

So now, while I search for a job and wait for an acceptance letter from a graduate program, I find that I now have time for writing that isn’t directly related to academic work. I have time for other pursuits as well, primarily gaming and reading, both of which I count among my greatest joys, but neither of which pay the bills. The most indulgent pastime I’ve partaken of, though, is reflection - looking back on what I’ve done, and what it means to me, which is the only perspective that counts. And fuck you if you don’t like that.

What has struck me as most significant while working towards my degree was my gradual realization of how much I actually enjoy working with other people. Granted, this interaction is limited to theatre, but considering how I prefer to work alone in almost every endeavor, it was something of a surprise. The surprise stems from, in no small part, that in being a geek, I have little patience or time for extended interaction with other people, especially those who are not geeks. What I learned in the past two years was that theatre has its own sort of geeks, all very different in so many ways, but sharing an obsessive passion for stagecraft. This is not to say that I had not experienced this before, but it’s quite a different thing to work in community theatre (or community college theatre) on a shoestring, dealing with performers or other would-be artists who look at the craft as something that’s done extraneous to the rest of their lives, and another to work with people who see it as what they do. This is what we do – theatre.

And as a geek, I also tended to perceive my own perspective as having a greater chance of success than others. Working with others who had a great deal of talent and intelligence taught me the value of just shutting the hell up and listening, to realize that maybe my position was not the strongest or most appropriate. I learned that collaboration with talented artists, and the input of those with experience and training, can more often than not make a creation stronger and achieve a level of quality that can rarely be attained by a single individual. I learned that I am not the singular arbiter of creativity and quality, and if I truly want to exceed expectations (those of others, and worse, myself), I needed to accept what my fellow artists had to offer. It was not easy at first, but once I witnessed the results, I was smart enough to embrace collaboration.

The question now is; where does this leave me? As a playwright, I’m less likely to be involved with a production than as an actor, director, sound designer or stage manager (all of which I seem to be good at, but have little liking for), and this suits me just fine. Yet I enjoy the interaction with the cast and crew of a production, no matter how unseasoned the participants. I suppose it just comes down to working with people I like, and more importantly, making sure those people are more than competent. Somewhere, there’s a middle ground, and I’ll just have to muddle through until I find the spot where I’ll make my stand. If I’m lucky, what I come up with in collaboration with others who feel a modicum of the same passion, will be of some small worth and value.

Hopefully, that will be enough.

Iron Man - The Penultimate Geek

2008-05-02T22:49:00.000-07:00

Iron Man may very well be the best movie of the summer, and could easily claim the title for best adaptation of a comic book to date. The reasons range from the most talented cast since Batman Begins and well-utilized and never heavy-handed special effects, to easily flowing humor and a depiction of strength and power that never becomes laden with that sense of unease from clumsy and self-conscious hyper-masculinity. It's a perfect summer movie, fun to watch but still rich with a complex message that never interferes with the entertainment. There are two aspects of this film that stood out that are probably unintentional as far as the producers are concerned, but which are elements that provided the most gratification for me.

Of all the superhero movies ever made, Iron Man is the film that comes closest to being absolutely believable - it's one of those movies that feels as if it could be real. And it's that sense of reality, of the possibility that what happens in the movie could actually occur is what leads to the second element; Iron Man is essentially a validation for geeks everywhere, proving that in the end, brains and not brawn will save the day.

For those not familiar with the main character's history, Tony Stark and his Iron Man alter-ego were, at the beginning and for most of the run of the series in the 1960's, 70's and 80's, thinly developed and two dimensional. Stark was essentially an armor-clad Batman, infinitely wealthy and with a drive to do good, but tormented by personal devils - in the case of Tony Stark, alcoholism. It's only been recently that the character has become less of a cliche, most notably during the Civil War cross-over series in the Marvel Universe (which is worth reading even if you're not a comic book fan due to the relevant theme of authority in conflict with personal liberty).

Robert Downey's portrayal of the character (matched well with the direction of Jon Favreau) not only brings Stark forward as a flesh-and-blood individual, but does something even more interesting - rather than making him larger than life, with the ennobling qualities most have come to expect from a superhero, he is instead reduced to a much more human level. The character is essentially a geek; a very talented, wealthy and charming one, but a geek nonetheless. He has no training in martial arts, nor does he possess any other fighting skills or talents. He has no supernatural or pseudo-science based powers that allow him to right wrongs. He's just a very smart guy who makes extraordinarily powerful machines that enable him to stop bad guys from doing very bad things - he is the penultimate geek.

Iron Man is the visual arts wish-fulfillment of every geek alive - to be able to use technology to make things better. Stark's wealth is merely the means to that end (as well as allowing him to interact with a caliber of women that usually date rock stars) and his charm obviously stems from his intelligence, smart enough to know when to be funny, and when to shut up when bordering on obnoxiousness. He is the model and ideal of geeks, that of a man no more than what he is able to think and do, rather than a pigeon-holed member of a society that values a herd mentality above innovation.

The film is, of course, much more than a love sonnet in praise of geeks. The acting is exemplary, and the affection of the actors and production crew for the work and attendant mythos is apparent. The technical aspects of the movie (most notably editing, always under-appreciated but critical to pacing and flow) never intrude, and are appropriately awe-inspiring when they need to be. And at the very end of the film, after the credits have rolled to completion, there is a spine-tingling promise of a wider expansion into the Marvel Universe, one that had my son and I grinning at each other in jaw-dropping delight. Stay until then - trust me, it's worth it.

Iron Man is the best film to start the summer off with, wholly engaging and deeply satisfying, and had the audience I saw it with laughing, shouting in amazement, and applauding, many times within the span of seconds. The fact that it's a geek love fest may be incidental, but I can't help but believe that it would be a lesser movie if it wasn't.

A Case For A Vinyl Revival

2008-03-19T00:40:00.000-07:00

It’s been years since I’ve purchased any kind of new music in any form – and that’s not an exaggeration - quite literally years. Ten years ago I would buy a new CD once every two weeks on average, and in the years before that time, a vinyl LP once a month. Nowadays, I’m loath to part with my money for any type of media, music especially.

There are many reasons for this reticence, but there’s one particular motivation that most consumers would understand and appreciate, and gives record company execs and other media producers nigh-apocalyptic waking nightmares – I can get most of what I want in newly released media for free, somewhere online. And it doesn’t take much to track down an album, movie, television episode, or PC game stored digitally online that’s easily downloaded and saved to a hard drive or burned to a disc in any format a user might desire. Using specific search terms with Google, a fast connection and any number of relatively inexpensive and reliable DVD burners available, one needn’t ever pay up front for entertainment ever again – and I haven’t.

I’m admitting this at the risk of having the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) goons getting all up in my shit for the chance at illuminating how the recording industry might stop some of the hemorrhaging of money from pirating and illegal downloads, at least regarding music. It’s a solution that, on the surface, seems contrary to current consumer technology trends, but is experiencing a rebirth among a growing number of music fans, both audiophile and casual listeners…

Vinyl records.

I could certainly cite figures and statistics that point to a resurgence in vinyl record buying, but I won’t – it’s been covered by the press snarkily enough in the past year to establish that there is a trend occurring, most of it with false astonishment by writers and reporters barely able to disguise their lack of knowledge about recording and playback technology with surface glibness. It seems every article published on the subject starts with lame-ass “Gosh-gee-whiz, what’s old is new again” wonderment, confirming my suspicion that the majority of technology reporters’ claim to expertise is owning an iPod or Mac and the ability to use a thesaurus. The fact is, vinyl never went away, but was instead relegated to DJ turntables or the collections of audio geeks absolute in their certainty that in the case of their particular obsession, digital recordings would never match the fidelity of analog. What did disappear was the willingness of record companies to release new albums in their entirety on vinyl, abandoning the format for CDs and ushering in the now nearly unstoppable collapse of the traditional producer-consumer relationship.

What might halt this collapse, or at the very least slow it down, is to embrace vinyl once again, and wholeheartedly. It’s unlikely to happen, as record company executives are notoriously shortsighted when it comes to adjusting to industry trends, and it’s easy to imagine the intransigence of the average music fan to invest in a turntable. New, emerging and independent artists (most without the backing of a major record label) also benefit from the digital format, as they’re able to release their music immediately to an audience without having to deal with the pressures of designing and pressing discs. Yet it’s some of those independent artists that have convinced me that a return to vinyl is a viable option - because a few weeks ago I purchased a new recording of new music by a new group, the self-titled release by If These Trees Could Talk, a post-rock instrumental group out of Akron, Ohio… on vinyl.

And I did it after having downloaded the digital format of the album, free of charge, of course. The MP3’s had been uploaded to a file storage site, then recommended to me by an acquaintance, and quickly became a favorite stream from my PC to my Xbox 360 for playback through my home stereo. I’ll admit there was some guilt that began to build, as I really enjoyed the work of the group (whose sound I describe as the birthing wails of the bastard child of Godspeed You Black Emperor and Explosions In The Sky), and as they’re young and struggling, need all the support they can get. So I visited their Myspace page to order the CD – and realized they had vinyl pressings of the album. It took me only a few seconds to decide that it was the vinyl I wanted, and not the CD.

This certainly wouldn’t be significant to the average record industry executive – an aging post-Baby Boomer buying a vinyl record seems more like a desperate grasping at a faded, youthful obsession rather than a return to the pallid trough of popular music. And they’d be right, to an extent. The difference is this; I’m now planning to purchase two other albums by new artists who have current releases on vinyl, Mono’s “Walking Cloud and Deep Red Sky, Flag Fluttered and the Sun Shined,” and Efterklang’s “Parades.” Not re-released classic albums that statistics dictate I buy according to my demographic pigeonhole, but new works by artists who aren’t being pimped out by record executives fighting a losing, quixotic battle against changes that are occurring at a consumer as well as cultural level.

All three releases are available for purchase from their homepages, Amazon.com (which inaugurated a vinyl record section in October), or smaller online retailers, an indication of the viability of the format. The question is, are the floundering heads of the music industry paying attention to the growth in vinyl, or will they continue to alienate consumers with their heavy-handed tactics? That question may be moot, as my future purchases (and those of other music fans) will benefit artists much more directly, bypassing middlemen and providing a greater measure of choice that we haven’t seen in decades, whether the format be MP3, CD, or a deliciously retro and sonically satisfying vinyl record.

First, an apology…

2008-03-19T00:39:00.000-07:00

Because it’s been a while.

There are plenty of reasons I could give for why I haven’t written in some time, all valid and none excusable. The truth is, life kinda kicked me in the ass the past half year, and it’s only recently that I’ve managed to pull myself out of whatever funk was engendered by the drama.

So I’m back, after a period of recovery and realignment.

And here we go…

Guest essay - The Female Geek

2007-08-17T16:54:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to offer the following essay by my kid sister (and a fine geek in her own right) Dr. Leticia Flores, on the nature of The Female Geek. Next week I'll return with our regularly scheduled program, but for now, revel in the perceptiveness and geekdom of my favorite (and only) sister.

Recently, my geek sibling and mentor Lupe asked me to do a column on the trials and tribulations of being a female geek. I was instantly paralyzed by the challenge. There are so many aspects to this topic that need to be examined, like:

Should we even make such distinctions between male and female geeks like we do for “actor and actress,” or “web master and web mistress?”

What are female geeks like, and do they follow the same developmental trajectory as their male counterparts?

Why don’t we see female geeks more frequently in the popular culture?

How does geekdom relate to gender/sexual identity, particularly for women?

I couldn’t settle on one topic because they’re so interwoven, so I’m going to assemble a smörgåsbord of thoughts in this essay. For starters, I am going to use the term “female geeks” in this essay. I don’t really see any difference between men and women geeks, but society clearly differentiates between the two sexes when discussing geekiness. So, we’ll play by their rules - for now.

I remember first consciously thinking about this (I have been chewing on this issue subconsciously for about 37 years now) when I watched both of Judd Apatow’s poignant and hilarious TV series, “Freaks and Geeks” and “Undeclared.” I loved the shows' characters - they were authentic representations of the tragicomic underdog, the geek. They were alternately smart, physically unimpressive, socially awkward types with an off-center sense of humor. They possessed more humane sensibilities than those around them, yet they (and others) were largely unaware of their talents. They were beautiful swans trapped in the ugly duckling’s body. That was totally me, except the geeks in his series and in his two movies (“The 40-Year-Old Virgin” and “Knocked Up”) all had penises. What’s up wit’ dat? Why don’t we have our own “Knocked Up” movie about a schlubby, unemployed geek girl who gets the model guy? Why isn’t that movie making jillions of dollars?

While I knew I was a geek (I am “out” to my husband, friends and family, but still “pass” as a normal woman at work), I wondered why I never heard other women talk about being geeks. For that matter, why were female geeks rarely portrayed and/or discussed in the media? I hopped onto The Google and did some searching. It turns out that many women have been trying to answer or at least address this question, and they’ve done a much more thorough job than I, so I won’t try to reproduce it here. A few examples of who’s been doing all the heavy lifting on this issue: Annalee Newitz and Charlie Anders published an anthology of female geek memoirs in 2006 (http://www.shessuchageek.com/); a lesbian/bisexual women’s media website listed their favorite TV female geeks (http://www.afterellen.com/ - more on this sexuality issue later) ; and web artists from www.planetheidi.com and www.pulpfaction.net just get their geek on and describe their world through their art. So, we’re out there, but we’re not yet in the mainstream.

So, if Apatow’s patrons granted me my fantasy and I could create a movie about the “heroine geek,” (get it? A clear indication of a geek is someone who makes horrible puns and preens publicly) what would she be like? Since women are already scrutinized intensely about their looks, we’ll start there. Chances are, female geeks won’t be wearing much makeup, nail polish or things that say “Juicy” on their ass. We have other things we want to spend our hard-earned money and time on, like new pod casting or other Mac-compatible software or music. We may never have learned how to buy and wear such makeup or clothing, even after our mothers spent their hard-earned money enrolling us in poise classes. What’s worse than a female geek who looks like a geek? A female geek trying to look like a normal member of the female species. It can be a bit garish, and well embarrassing, really. I had a good female friend, a stylist at one of those chi-chi spa/salons, actually laugh out loud and point at my face with her finger when she noticed that I was wearing lip-gloss. The poor girl wasn’t trying to be mean; she was just caught off-guard by the freak show. Not a reinforcing experience. When I try wearing high heels or shirts that show my admittedly ample boobs, I make the neighborhood transvestites titter. I can read the expression “Bless your heart” on their faces. I irreparably stretch out my shirt trying to cover the cleavage that I am certain is either driving admirers crazy or grossing people out (both frightening prospects). Consequently, I prefer to wear men’s or at least masculine shoes, avoid the war paint, and cover up all the erogenous zones.

“Ohhhhhhh, I get it,” you say. “Female geeks are really just a lesbian subset, like gay ‘cubs’ or ‘bears’.” I actually entertained this notion in high school. I was clearly trying to achieve some identity resolution using a process of elimination, based on my then very narrow understanding of sexual and gender identity:

1. Don’t like girly things like purses, wedding magazines or jewelry - check.
2. Feel like a big, ugly troll next to my feminine, girly cousins - check.
3. Like my brothers’ interests and activities more than anything my female counterparts indulge in - check.
4. Have big feet that feel and look better in combat boots than they do in “fuck-me pumps” - check.
5. Prefer vaginas to penises - whoa there, nelly!

Even though I was sitting on the sexual sidelines at the time (another element of geekdom; deep-seated virginity that feels like your parents gave you a chastity belt implant at your birth), I knew by then that I preferred to frolic on the Blue Lagoon with Chris Atkins and not Brooke Shields. Unfortunately, these kinds of gender-based subtleties often get overlooked by most people. More often that not, both men and women equate a woman’s love of politics, technology, sci-fi and other stereotypically “masculine” pursuits - and her disinterest in many stereotypically “feminine” pursuits such as makeup and clothes shopping - with lesbianism.

Now before Lupe gets assaulted with e-mails disparaging my comments, let me say that these are clearly generalizations - many geek girls love shopping, many lesbians look killer in fuck-me pumps, etc., etc. But I’m betting lots of people might erroneously assume or perceive such things about geek girls. There’s no denying the sisterhood that geek women and lesbians share - I love seeing a woman doing what and who she wants, in her own way, on her own terms. But I can only speak from my own masculine (from society’s perspective), heterosexual viewpoint.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if today’s geek women are really just grown-up tomboys. I often describe myself as a 12-year-old boy inside a 37-year-old woman’s body. But I was a pretty cool 12-year-old girl, until the social expectations in adolescence tried to steamroll all the potty-mouthed, poo-obsessed impropriety out of me. I wonder if geek women are just those women who refused to become more “ladylike” as they matured. Instead of suppressing our own desires to satisfy first family and eventually, societal expectations, we tomboys instead continued to pursue our own ideas of pleasure, and blossomed into the beautiful girl geek. Fortunately, there are lots of geek boys (and other geek girls) who blossomed into geek men and women. And to be frank, they’re really the only ones able to handle this burning hunk of geek love. Seth Rogen doesn’t know what he’s missing.

(Lupe’s sister is a therapist and academic whose clients and students are unaware of her true geek identity - and she really dislikes Tony Soprano’s therapist)

The Dont's of being a geek - how to piss-off and alienate friends, family, and complete strangers

2007-08-07T15:23:00.000-07:00

Geeks are a misunderstood breed, usually subject to uncomprehending stares or rolled eyes when in the throes of their particular interest(s). If you aren't a geek yourself, you probably know one and may have many of the same tendencies, only channeled in a different direction - if they hadn't already coined the term "fashion" to apply to clothing and accessories, many of the women I've known could easily be labeled shoe or purse geeks. Our modern culture has relegated the term geek to apply to a specific subset of interests, even though the geek drive can be found in almost any field of human study. College professors, musicians, athletes, scientists... all are geeks, but because their areas of expertise have been around for so long, they've achieved the status of professionals.

Modern day geekery is relatively harmless when controlled and kept on a tight leash by the infected, but when loosed on an unsuspecting public, it creates a poisonous environment that less obnoxious geeks have to regrettably contend with. For those fellow geeks that keep screwing it up for the rest of us, I offer the following suggestions in what not to do.

Don't assume anyone wants to hear what you have to say:

This is a huge problem with geeks, and the one most likely to drive unwitting bystanders to the point of murder. The worst form of this disregard is a geek retelling in detail their favorite movie or television show. No matter how much you loved the episode of "The Simpsons" you caught last night, or how brightly your love for "Monty Python's The Holy Grail" now burns after the 20th viewing, I guarantee you that no one, not even other geeks, wants to hear you describe every point of action and every last line of dialogue coming out of your piehole. If you really want others to feel the same joy you do, Tivo it for them for god's sake and just shut the fuck up already.

A related problem is when two geeks are together and start riffing on a scene or bit from movies, television or other media. There's nothing wrong with this at all, and in fact can be quite funny and entertaining, as long as you keep it to yourselves. Doing it in a public place is only going to get you blank stares and scoffing, not because they don't have the capacity to appreciate your grasp of comic timing and humor, but because you're really friggin' annoying.

Note - It is quite acceptable to throw out an occasional one-liner, as long as it works in the context of the conversation. And I can't stress it enough; don't overdo it.

Don't mock the passions of others without justification:

Because it's rude and insensitive, and doesn't do a thing to enhance the standing of geeks. Sure, it's easy to make fun of someone who's just expressed devotion to "American Idol" or "Sex And The City," but that doesn't make it right. Now, if they give you crap about your dedication to obscure PC operating systems or your individually bagged, boarded and cataloged comic book collection first, all bets are off. Hit them fast and hard, and aim for the soft spots.

Note - Know when to cease your retaliatory remarks, and it's better to be funny than cruel.

Don't confuse geek with expert:

You might actually be the most knowledgeable person in the room regarding your particular geek passion, but it doesn't make you an expert. Experts have certification, degrees, or some other validation by an accepted authority granting you that title - otherwise, you're just a talented and/or dedicated amateur. It may not be fair, but it's the way the world works, so you might as well get used to it. Over time, certain geeks have achieved expert status due to their groundbreaking work in their particular obsession - Forrest Ackerman is a great example of a dedicated amateur becoming a legend, and more than a few successful writers started out as passionate geeks - but experts for the most part have training and education to back up their focus. They also make a living from it, which is the best benchmark for evaluating expertise. You'll garner more respect for admitting your amateur status than trying to convince everyone you're the go-to-guy on your geek focus.

Note - It's always better to provide information when asked for it, rather than shoving your unsolicited input in their faces. Nobody likes a know-it-all.

Don't let your geekness define you:

This may be the most important part of being a geek, that the particular element that makes you a geek is only (or should be only) one part of who you are. I'm a proudly declared geek from way back, but if you were to ask me, "Who are you," the list would go in order of importance; father, son, sibling, friend, writer... well, you get the idea. Geek is way down on the list, and while that aspect of my personality informs many of the others, it is not who I am. It does provide a great deal of fun and diversion, and when I'm lucky, my needs as a person and my desires as a geek converge. The upshot of this is that I make sure not to sacrifice my friends and family on the alter of my obsessions, because I can always pick up where I left off on a video game - my friends and family, however, will grow older and fade from this world - there's no extra lives for the people I love.

Note - Being geeks can be bonding moments for many people; the trick is knowing how to move beyond that.

Don't be a Dork:

The previous issues listed are often a result of being a dork in tandem with being a geek. A lack of social skills paired with an obsessive focus can result in a long slide into isolation, with junk food, porn and IM chatting the only thing to cushion your fall. Unfortunately, dorks are notorious for a lack of self-awareness (it's why they're dorks) and it can be difficult for them to grasp that when they're in geek mode, they're pissing off everyone within earshot.

I had to endure a real world example of this a couple of months ago while browsing vinyl LP's (another of my geek passions) in a used bookstore. A couple of guys looking to be in their mid-twenties walked in and moved down the aisle in the same section. One of them had that puffy-torsoed, greased-backed-ponytail, Kevin Smith-goateed, black tee-shirt/black shorts-on-fish-belly-white-skin, comic-book-store-guy look going, while the other was a skinny, half-assed faux Emo type who followed the other around like a puppy. Within a minute the puffy one's phone rang, and he proceeded to hold the conversation at a volume that none could escape. It's usually easy enough to shut out this kind of noise, but this particular dork's conversation was obnoxious and repetitive, with one phrase appearing to be his favorite - "You know what? You know what? You know what? No one cares." It was also pretty clear his phone conversation was getting on everyone else's nerves, at least from the looks being shot his way by customers and staff.

Only a few minutes later, after I had moved over to the start of the used DVD shelves, these same two were on the opposite side of the display, with the puffy one holding forth loudly on the merits and weaknesses of various films. And at every opportunity these two started reciting lines and catchphrases from favorites, most of which were also on my list of top movies, making it all that much more aggravating.

The thing is, I knew who these guys were - not personally, but the type, one I had been dangerously close to becoming in my younger years. It's far too easy to fall into a role that's comfortable, where the people you hang out with and the activities you're involved in feed into your strengths and passions, but worse, heighten your flaws. It's far worse than stereotyping people you don't know or dislike - it's becoming a stereotype yourself.

Note - There's no note for this. There is absolutely no positive to being a dork.

Next: The Do's of being a geek - With great power comes great responsibility

Why the Harry Potter movies suck

2007-08-02T16:32:00.000-07:00

As a whole, I think the run of the Harry Potter book series has been an entirely good event, with a large number of positives in its favor. It has accounted for amazing book sales figures for storefronts in an increasingly competitive market (where it is now as easy and certainly cheaper to buy online), it has undoubtedly created new readers among juveniles, and it's a great success story for the author, J.K. Rowling, who began writing the first book while on the UK version of welfare - she's now rated as one of the richest women in Britain.

What I'm taking issue with are the movie adaptations of the series, which if considered as a whole, are disappointing and fall well below the average benchmark of good cinema. They're universally well-regarded by the fan base if the box office numbers are any indication, but for someone like me who's not a reader of the series, they're obviously crafted for appealing to that specific fan base and haven't encouraged me to pick the books up. This is not so much because I think the books might equal the movies in quality, but because I'm surprised and disturbed that the hardcore fans actually enjoyed the movies rather than insisting they match the literary works in depth and strength. To me, that indicates the books (and tepid big screen productions) fall into the category of cultural phenomenon rather than works of true literary or artistic merit.

The reasons the fan base allows the production of these hugely flawed movies run the gamut from obvious to subtle, and while I can appreciate the reasons, I don't necessarily approve or excuse them. One major factor is the average age of the Harry Potter fan, which appears to range between 13 and 35, roughly, with a constant influx of younger readers picking the books up over the years. This isn't a movie going audience that demands much from filmmakers (excluding members of the film geek community who may also be Potter fans, of course, who would tend to focus on the craft of movie making rather than specific genres) beyond the basic need of entertainment. Keep in mind, this is the same group that have made stars of Lindsey Lohan and Britney Spears. There's also the rabidity of these fans for the source material, and as someone who's well aware of the power of books on a young mind, any chance to see a beloved story visualized is grasped at with fervor.

What these fans fail to realize is that the movie adaptations could have been so much better, richer in detail and with greater depth so that someone in my position could see any of the movies without having to stifle yawns or losing interest halfway through. Their own experience would be greatly enriched by the filmmakers having an actual desire to make a quality film that would appeal to all audiences, rather than cranking out a product for the large and devoted following of the Harry Potter series. The following points would've been a good starting place for the producers, and I think at their core they apply to any movie being made and not just the Potter films.

Don't forget the details:

Especially the details about the character relationships. One of the biggest problems I have with the movie versions is that I'm never too sure about what the characters mean to each other, aside from the obvious friendships of Harry, Hermione and Ron. And no matter how cool the special effects and action may be in a movie, if I don't care about or what happens to the characters, it's a waste of my time. This is especially true when it comes to the supporting roles - I'd rather know more about Dumbledore and Snape's connection to each other than have to hear about the rules and history of Quidditch (or watch a match, for that matter).

Don't waste the talent:

This is probably one of my biggest peeves with the Potter movies. Consider the wealth of talent in the movie series, from the Shakespearean trained performers like Ralph Fiennes, Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, Michael Gambon, Emma Thompson, Imelda Staunton and Kenneth Branagh, to natural acting bad-asses Robbie Coltrane, Helena Bonham Carter, Gary Oldman, and the late Richard Harris. An embarrassment of riches horribly squandered throughout the entire series, and worse, much of the audience probably can't grasp the magnitude of having all these actors working on the same project. If it were any other movie or series, these names would elicit squawks of delight from film buffs and aficianados. With the Potter series, their skills just seem wasted. And am I the only person who was creeped out by Oldman constantly winking at Harry during "...Order Of The Phoenix"? He was like the uncle who makes inappropriate contact after a few too many beers at the family barbecue.

Leave the twee at home:

If you don't know what twee means, here's a definition from the Urban Dictionary - "sweet, almost to the point of being sickeningly so. As a derogatory descriptive, it means something that is affectedly dainty or quaint, or is way too sentimental." I can't escape the feeling that a lot of Harry Potter fans will grow up to consider a night at home listening to Belle and Sebastian while drinking overly-sweetened hot tea and thumbing through a worn copy of Great Expectations as a damn fine evening. The allusion to Dickens is no accident either, as Rowling has expressed admiration for the classic author's works, and it shows, lord does it show, from the ubiquitous Christmas scenes to the looming sense of tragedy that shadows the main character. While I'm assuming the books have greater depth in scene and setting, the movies all too often feel like the mawkish bastard children of "A Christmas Carol."

If you're gonna have special effects, then you need to bring it, bitch:

Films heavily laden with special effects really work in only two ways; the effects are integral and are unconsciously accepted as a reality by the viewer, or they're so epic and astounding that the watcher is swept away. X-Men and Batman Begins or the first Matrix movie (we shan't speak of the other two) are perfect examples of the former, while Transformers and the Lord Of The Rings trilogy could be seen as standards for the latter. The Harry Potter movies don't have that essence of seamlessness, and a lot of the effects stand out not because they're amazing, but because they're noticeable. And that's a bad thing.

The danger implied by the success of the Harry Potter movies is that movie studios won't see fit to create products that do more than parrot the original texts they're adapted from, or to gear them for a specific audience. Because although films are products, there's no reason they can't be art as well, and for that to happen films have to possess a universal component that moves beyond the desires of a core and dedicated fan base. More often than not, it's that very same fan base that needs to push for a better product that those outside the core can appreciate.

Transformers - Big, badass robots and how Michael Bay actually made a good movie

2007-07-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

I will freely admit, I walked into the theater with my son to watch Transformers braced to be deeply disappointed, despite the great trailers leading up to the premiere (trailers are, after all, culled from the best portions of movies to maximize impact). I walked out surprisingly satisfied, especially considering it was directed by Michael Bay, the man responsible for movies like Bad Boys, The Rock, Armageddon, and The Island, all financially successful but artistically horrendous.

There were plenty of weaknesses that prevented it from being a fantastic movie, yet I never cringed during the course of the film, which has always happened when viewing one of Bay's films, and I actually laughed at the appropriate times rather than in derision. Afterwards, my boy and I discussed it, and most of our exchange concerned the best parts of it rather than what we didn't like, always a good sign.

The weaknesses cover a wide range of issues but weren't focused on any particular part of movie making. The acting was solid overall, especially from the lead, Shia LaBeouf, who eerily resembles a young John Cusack both in physicality and presentation. His character was likable and charming, a big difference in how the leads in Bay's other movies come across, where my strongest reaction is to kick them in the teeth to shut them the hell up. It was disappointing to watch Jon Voight and John Tuturro used so poorly though, with their performances akin to mugging rather than acting, but it undoubtedly meant a big payday for both to be involved with the film, so I can't hold that against them. Anthony Anderson had a small but, as always, well-performed role - he's never failed to make me laugh, even in the worst of the films he's been in. There was also that signature element of Bay's directing, where all the characters always seem to be trembling on the edge of breathlessness, a shortcut to heighten tension that can be annoying in most cases, but in the context of this movie made sense.

The film also seemed suffer from a lack of build or arc, moving along briskly from the beginning but at about halfway through, kicks into top gear and doesn't let go until the last couple of minutes. It was almost schizophrenic, two different movies jammed together without the benefit of a gifted editor and it was unclear if that stemmed from laziness or just a lack of talent. This may explain why the movie seemed just a touch too long, and there were more than a few scenes that - in the hands of a more discriminating editor - would've been excised or shuffled into smoother transitions. There was also the matter of the voice over at the very beginning, which was unnecessary and gave me a twinge of doubt at the hint of cheese. It was moments like that which locked Transformers into just being a good film and not a great one.

What makes this movie more than bearable, in fact makes it amazing, are the title characters, the CGI rendered Transformers and their protagonists, the Decepticons. They're nothing less than awe-inspiring and absolutely believable in how they operate and interact, which is significant because while they're titanic and nearly god-like in action, they're still very human and likable, at least on the part of the Autobots. The Decipticons weren't as fully fleshed out as their on-screen enemies, but that's understandable in light of the storyline. They were evil enough to keep the audience cheering for the good guys, but still impressive and with as high a cool factor as the Autobots (sometimes more, as in the case of Blackout, Scorponok, and Starscream).

The banter among the Autobots had much to do with solidifying the characters, but those scenes suffered from the same lazy editing as the rest of the movie. Yet because of the sheer coolness in watching big, badass robots look completely real and believable on the big screen, the flawed editing seemed less apparent. I'll also confess that at during the scene near the end, where the Autobot Bumblebee tells Optimus Prime that he wants to "Stay with the boy (Shia LaBeouf)," I felt a big, corny "Awwww..." well up. I managed to keep it under control though - no sense in my boy seeing his dad get sappy about a robot, no matter how cool.

I'm a touch long in the tooth to have seen the original animated series when it was initially broadcast, but I could see why the title characters have had such a solid fan base, no matter that the series was built around a preexisting toyline by Hasbro. The characters are fun to watch (as big, badass robots always are) and any story that brings the struggle of titans down to a human level has always been enthralling - that's the very essence of mythology and legend. I can imagine how thrilling it is for someone growing up watching the original series to hear the voice of the small screen Optimus Prime in the theater, or what was previously an animated transformation take on the depth and reality afforded by computer generated graphics.

There was also a noticible rise in the number of Transformers action figures purchased after the movie's premiere. Where before the film's opening there were toys filling the shelves, the past few days have shown a significant drop in their availability. It's quite probable that not only collectors but every kid who has seen the movie (with a parent who may well have been a fan of the original creation) is grabbing one when available, leaving the Pirates Of The Caribbean and Fantastic Four toys lonely and forlorn.

This movie doesn't redeem Michael bay, but it's certainly one step towards his rehabilitation. I'll keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best, but one good movie doesn't make him a good filmmaker. And you can make only so many movies about big, badass robots... although I'd probably go see them all.

2007-07-05T21:44:00.000-07:00

I wrote the following piece for a more personal blog soon after viewing the movie "V For Vendetta" on the big screen. Upon reflection, it certainly belongs here, and my opinion has changed not a whit.

Previously published on 03/21/2006

First off, let me make it clear for those of you who don't know me in person, or haven't figured it out on your own yet - I am a geek. What that means is that I have a abnormally strong attraction to things that little boys like. This is in itself not at all unusual, as a great many adult men enjoy video games, cartoons, comic books, and really cool toys (and they have to be really cool, like action figures).

Geeks are everywhere nowadays, and they're becoming ubiquitous and extraordinarily successful in the pop culture machine. Examples in music would be groups like The Strokes, The Killers, Death Cab For Cutie, Arctic Monkeys, hell, most of the participants in western genres outside hip hop/rap, country, and classic rock (and there are growing exceptions in these exceptions, especially in hip hop). Literature abounds with geeks, but that's not a huge surprise - geeks typically form a huge segment of the writing population, either professional and published or amateur and not. Movies are really showing the impact of geeks on pop culture - some of the bigger and more successful movies are geek extravaganzas. Peter Jackson, who directed "The Lord Of The Rings" trilogy is a HUGE geek. The X-Men movies were scripted and directed by geeks. The Spiderman movies - made by a geek.

So you would expect a story that is a geek icon, written by a geek, then directed and produced by geeks, would be damn near perfection in its execution, right? Right?

Nope.

V For Vendetta, as a movie, is not bad, not at all. It flows smoothly, has great action sequences, and the acting is damn fine. You really can't go wrong with talent like Hugo Weaving, Natalie Portman, Stephen Fry, Stephen Rea, and a crapload of fine British actors.

The problem is this - the movie missed an essential point of the story, one that made the comic book (or graphic novel for quibblers) more than just an adventure story - we all are capable of becoming monsters.

If you strip away the elements that are forming the current discussion points about the movie - revolution, violence in order to effect change, fascism, totalitarianism, sacrifice, etc., you are left with, in the end, an action movie. That's not a bad thing in itself - some of my favorite movies are just simple fun with explosives. But the Wachowski Brothers missed a huge opportunity with this film, a chance to really dig into what it means to be human, and the lines that form the border with the inhuman. Because that's what V For Vendetta is really about, and more importantly, how inhumanity redefines and is at times the salvation of humanity. And that point is a subtle and wavering one, a slippery and shifting ground that can be and is abused by those who have an agenda that is usually detrimental to others.

The movie makes a hero of V, which is a mistake. His actions, though violent and over the top in the movie, are at the end of the film seen as positive because the bad guys receive their final and bloody just rewards, society comes together to reclaim their freedom, and the hero goes up in a blaze of glory like a futuristic Viking on a high explosive funeral pyre.

And it shouldn't have been that way. When I read the story years ago, I was left with a strong sense of unease. It was a watershed in comic books because it presented us with not a hero, or a superhero, or even an anti-hero, but with something more real (as strange as that may sound in the context of comic books) - it gave us a monster that could have been any of us, given an extremity of circumstances. It showed the capacity of any man or woman to be monstrous, because while reading the book, you could understand the horror implicit in the acts of the title character and AGREE with them. You could know that what was being done was at its core, wrong, but you could also know that you would be driven to do the same.

The idea presented in the original story is frightening - that terrorism, violence, and murder can be absolutely necessary depending on who you are and the issues you are struggling with. Frightening not because it absolves anyone committing such acts of any guilt (and neutering the argument of responsibility and culpability as an exercise in relativism), but because it makes ALL of us guilty because each of us can connect with the necessity of such acts.

Your founding father is someone else's terrorist. Your brave revolutionary is a mass murderer. Your defender of the homeland is the oppressor of the people. Your hero is the razor-edged shadow in my nightmares.

V For Vendetta is an important story because, like all important stories, it held up a mirror to show us who we really are, good, bad and indifferent. The title character wears a mask that is never removed - leaving the face beneath to be defined by our imagination. We make our own monster behind the mask, the same monster we find in the real world - the same one we see when we look in the mirror.

It's a shame that this realization wasn't in the movie. And the film is fun, and better than most of the crap you'll find in your local multiplex. But if you get a chance, find and read the book - and take a longer look at the monster behind the mask.

Why the television series Firefly didn't last

2007-07-05T16:00:00.000-07:00

I've just finished viewing the first and only season of "Firefly" on DVD, thanks to my friend MJ's generosity during the Christmas season, and I was not too surprised at the fact that I enjoyed it. I made it a point to re-watch the "Serenity" DVD afterwards to cap off the experience, even though I had seen it at its initial release on disc (and I had enjoyed that as well). At the conclusion of all this geeking out, I think I know, or at least suspect why it didn't and couldn't last.

It wasn't committed to the idea.

The best way to illustrate what I mean is to compare it to the effect of a live stage production on the audience - and if by chance you've never experienced a live play in a real theatre, you can imagine an engrossing movie experience if necessary (but it's not quite the same). An effective production will provide what's referred to as a "suspension of disbelief," wherein the audience buys into the reality occurring onstage, forgetting for the course of the show that they're only passive watchers.

"Firefly" was never really able to pull this off for several reasons, many of which could be argued are some of the stronger points of the program. For example, the tongue-in-cheek wit of the dialogue is an essential element of the show, imbuing it with a distinctive character that set it apart from programs in and outside of the genre. Yet that wit, engaging as it was, prevented me (and I sure others) from taking the show seriously. It was hardly inappropriate for the program, but it was definitely distracting, and at times I would be sidetracked by humor, wondering at the cleverness at the sake of following the story. And I couldn’t help but consider how much character development was sacrificed for the sake of a witty exchange. Much of the blame could be laid at the feet of FOX executives, who saw Whedon's original darker vision as too unpalatable for their expected audience. It was interesting to see that one of the deleted scenes, the original opening scene to the show in fact, was notably subdued and much more emotionally intense than the broadcast version, but artistically is a more satisfying dramatic moment than the slam-bang action seen in the final version.

Another reason that might have contributed to the demise of the show is the unusual back-story and future history that didn't seem quite right as presented in the program. Many of the usual conventions of science-fiction were present and could be easily accepted as natural, but the unique elements were at times jarring, and seemed to lack a serious examination of their implications. At the core of the future history is the conceit that the two remaining superpowers on Earth, the U.S. and China, have essentially formed a central government (known as the Alliance) and intermingled their cultures before expanding beyond the Sol system. While the basis of Firefly's future history is certainly intriguing, at issue was its execution. The use of language is a significant example in the series of a clumsy attempt to show this intermingling of cultures. The writers had the characters using Chinese when surprised, upset, or astounded, but that's not how language works. There are no clear boundaries as to when or how certain portions of languages are used when appropriated by other cultures, and it's more often a merging rather than a clearly defined utilization at certain times. Anyone who's grown up in or around a diverse population has experienced this, whether it's Tex-Mex in San Antonio, Latin and African American urban in East Coast cities, Chinese and its complexities developed over centuries (and which is the root of many other Asian languages), and English itself, a poly-glot mixed breed of Latin based variants that continues to evolve and grow by borrowing from disparate sources. It would have been much more interesting to me to have heard an imaginative extrapolation of what this future language might have been like, perhaps Mandarin or Cantonese spoken with a folksy drawl alongside other recognizable dialects thrown into the mix. The language issue is only one among many that didn't appear to be fully thought out - other examples can be seen in the starkly different costuming with little to no commonality or coherency, and the inability to distinguish the different planets the characters visited because there were no clear cultural pockets. And if China serves as one half of the Alliance, where exactly are the Chinese themselves? None of the major characters were Asian, and I don't recall any supporting or recurring characters being Asian either.

I'm sure there were reasons the creators didn't address these and other issues, some practical (the terrain available for filming as well as the budget for special effects probably limited the number of environments they could create) and others less than obvious (the influence of talentless hacks in the mid-to-upper echelons of the FOX network). And it should be pointed out that there were some extraordinary elements to the show. The set created for the shipboard scenes was excellent and established a true sense of place; the acting was always solid and at times approached exceptional (standouts include Nathan Fillion, Alan Tudyk, and Summer Glau); and the dialogue was never boring, crackling with wit, humor and sensitivity, sometimes to the point of overshadowing the rest of the production. I can understand how the cancellation of the series was a huge disappointment to not only the die-hard fans, but to the cast as well, because the program seemed to be as much fun to make as well as watch.

But in retrospect, its cancellation seemed inevitable. It had many original and interesting ideas, as well as notable talent involved, but that's never enough to ensure success. The weaknesses of "Firefly" lie in those original and interesting ideas not fully fleshed out, allowing those talents of note room to create characters that resonate universally, and not just with a core fan base.

Letting my geek flag fly, within reason

2007-06-22T14:20:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the single most defining trait of being a geek is a passion or obsessive love of a particular field(s) or subject. One of mine, if you haven't already guessed by now, is the television series "Battlestar Galactica" on the Sci Fi Channel. The reasons for this are numerous, with many of those reasons falling outside the standard definition of geekiness. These include a love of exemplary acting and directing, qualities that aren't usually found in science fiction produced for the big screen or television. That lack is why much of the genre has difficulty finding a larger audience outside of the geek community, aside from cultural monsters like Star Wars or Star Trek (and both franchises have struggled with uneven quality throughout their existence).

Battlestar Galactica was a revelation for many on both sides of the cultural divide - geeks finally had proof that science fiction could be literate, mature and well-crafted without having to sacrifice the "wow" factor found in badass effects and tech-oriented design. And many who prefer their entertainment to delve into the human condition, examining the depths of emotion and psychology, find the series insightful and gripping in depicting ordinary people in extraordinary situations. I like to think I can move easily from one perspective to the other - I enjoy good, cheesy space operas as well as solid dramatic works placed in more mundane settings. I'm usually capable of keeping my geek tendencies under control when I'm enjoying standard mainstream offerings, preferring to exercise them when I'm knee-deep in typical geek fare. I'll forgive the countless inconsistencies in Shakespearean productions because it is, after all, Shakespeare, and who the hell am I to give Bill shit about his sometimes sloppy plotting and references? On the other hand, I'll spend an inordinate amount of time discussing with other geeks the evolution of the Clone Troopers into Imperial Stormtroopers from the Star Wars movies.

I had a moment a couple of days ago when both perspectives had a merging, while watching for the second time season two of BSG. It was during the episode "Epiphanies," specifically at the moment when a team of Marines move into the cell of the Cylon agent Sharon (call sign Boomer when she was still maintaining her cover). The clip below is of those few seconds when they enter - watch the first Marine, especially the way she handles her weapon...

When I viewed it the first time many months ago, I hadn't noticed her aching clumsiness with a weapon, or for that matter, that she had no idea how to be a badass Colonial Marine. I had been completely engrossed in the drama and story. But being a geek, I've started re-watching the episodes on DVD, and caught this moment on the second go-round.

My time in the military provided some pretty extensive weapons training, and my immediate reaction was to laugh out loud at the sight of this poor extra first tucking the butt of the rifle into her armpit, which upon firing, would cause SOME injury - at the very least bruising, at the worst, a dislocated shoulder. And then she actually looks down at her weapon, as if thinking, "Am I doing this right?" She's pointing it in the general direction of the Sharon character, but at a strange, pseudo-gangsta angle, which means an inefficient and inaccurate field of fire (it's why gangstas always end up taking out more bystanders than rival gang members during a drive-by).

The interesting thing about the whole moment for me was not so much that I noticed it, but that I was willing to forgive it in the context of the whole show. Normally I'd see a problem like that in a production and slag away at it, letting the geek scorn fly. Yet the show is so good, so solid overall, that I let it go. I laughed about it, of course (and I'm writing about it now), but it didn't do a thing to detract from my affection and love for the program. The geek part of me - the part that's going to watch the series again in the very near future - will undoubtedly look for other bloopers and gaffes. But the part of me that enjoys quality writing, acting and directing will forgive any issues that may pop up. And if I'm lucky, there will be other shows on the horizon that will be just as entertaining, and of high enough quality that my geekishness as well as my love of exceptional creativity will be satisfied.

Why I won't see the new Fantastic Four movie

2007-06-17T16:36:00.000-07:00

And I probably won't rent the DVD, either. There's a lot of small, and overall inconsequential reasons - the first movie was a disappointment in terms of acting, scripting, directing and flaccid special effects. These combined wouldn't deter me from any other film, however, as I can be pretty forgiving if there's something I can enjoy; I did see Revenge Of The Sith in the theater, and as abysmal as it was as a film, I still found much to take from it.

What will keep me from The Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer can be encapsulated in one name... Jack Kirby.

Like a lot of boys growing up in the late 60's and early 70's, comic books served as a bridge to serious reading while still maintaining an allure as an art form to itself. This was due in no small part to the artwork of Kirby, who was co-creator of characters such as Captain America, The Avengers, the X-Men, the Incredible Hulk - the list is extensive and impressive. Minor characters and books also made an impression on me, and I still have the first issues of Kamandi: The Last Boy On Earth and Mister Miracle, both with glorious covers that resonate for me today. Kirby fleshed out a mythology that in another's hands would have been entertaining but less than epic, which is at the core of Kirby's influence and was nowhere to be seen in the first Fantastic Four movie.

I remember being taken as an elementary school-age boy by my father to a used bookstore, where he purchased bundles of comic books for me, and included in one of the bundles were the issues comprising the first Galactus storyline. The effect of those books on me can't be understated - reading Johnny Storm's voyage across vast expanses of space and time to find the one weapon that could stop the villain; the conversations between the Silver Surfer and Alicia Masters; the moment when Reed Richards holds aloft the Ultimate Nullifier, the only weapon able to stop Galactus - all of these moments part and parcel of a monumental work that was the first of its kind in comic books. Those books are a significant influence on my own writing, as well as other subsequent writers and artists, with varying degrees of success and quality.

Nor should Stan Lee's work be discounted in the Fantastic Four series, despite the arguments against his contributions and whether Kirby was properly compensated or acknowledged for his efforts. Kirby's work late in life for independents are prime examples of the limitations of a talented graphic artist working without a quality scripter. Lee also has the early Amazing Spider-Man series as evidence of his skills working in tandem with another Silver Age artist, Steve Ditko. The first two Spider-Man movies were able to embody the spirit of the early series (we shan't write of the flawed third movie, with its off-kilter homage to the Nutty Professor halfway through) in both look and scripting, and I could see the same sense of wonder in my son's face while watching the movie that I felt when I first read the books.

I can only guess why the first FF movie failed in capturing the essence of the best of the comic books. The fault may lie with the marketing department and their targeted audience, which judging by the tie-in merchandise, appeared to be young and stupid children - and the retail products for the new movie appear to be just as juvenile. There may have been pressure to make the movie as palatable as possible to this audience, requiring the removal of any semblance of sophistication and thought. The blame could certainly lie with the director, whose previous films don't inspire confidence in his abilities (Barbershop, Taxi, and a few direct-to-DVD crapfests). The writers may share some of the blame, although one of them, Mark Frost, was involved in one of my favorite television series ever broadcast, Twin Peaks. The money involved with the project may have been an inducement to lobotomize the script, however. And these reasons together are enough to doom any project to mediocrity.

But I think that at the core of it is the lack of appreciation for the best of the comic series, epitomized by the grand and epic sweep of Jack Kirby's art, as well as the overly-lofty and pretentious dialouge crafted by Lee, which worked in the context of the comic book and was seen as revolutionary at the time. The best movies in the superhero genre have me leaving the theater in wide-eyed wonder, much as those four-color panels of Jack Kirby's artwork did all those years ago.

I hold little hope that the latest in the Fantastic Four franchise will do the same.

The positive effects of video games on a child

2007-06-07T21:22:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite jobs, or rather my privilege, is being a teacher. Not so much in a classroom setting, but in teaching my son how to be a person. It's become a distinct pleasure that's aided in good part by his naturally easygoing character. Our talks, discussions and interactions cover a wide range of topics and can reach some surprising depths, and his perceptiveness outstrips a lot of adults I know.

And of course, since he's a 12-year-old boy with a geek for a dad, a portion of our time together consists of saving the universe in video games. One of our favorites is, not surprisingly, the Halo series.

There are some reactionary critics (as well as mainstream ones) that would disapprove, and to be honest, gaming with my boy didn't quite fit in with my culturally established preconception of fathering, so I understand the reactions. My own history with my father never had much in the way of play, and perhaps that's why I make an effort to ensure the time with my own son has a good measure of fun.

It has struck me, however, that there's a number of positive elements in gaming together beyond the simple pleasures of blowing up stuff as a team. They have caused moments of surprise, pride, and laughter, but no worries or concerns that playing video games is having a detrimental effect on his psyche.

For example, soon after we had viewed the questionably accurate but visually gorgeous film "300" in a nearby cineplex, we were playing a Halo level which occurs in some rather narrow passageways. At the start of an especially brutal attack wave from the game antagonists called The Flood, my son placed his game character on one side of the hallway, instructed me to place my own next to his, and said, "We'll hold them off just like the Spartans at the Hot Gates, Dad!" The tactic worked pretty effectively of course, and now we use it appropriately during certain levels, even adjusting our overall approach to apply it when needed. What pleased me was his not just recognizing the tactic as viable and effective, but using the movie reference to explain it to me.

We had discussed around that same period of time the difference between history and legend, and how modern storytellers utilize legends, our conversation moving beyond the parallels between the Halo super-soldiers called Spartans, and the ancient Greeks of the same name. He noted that much of the teen and juvenile fiction he reads has references to legend and mythology, some strictly adhering to accepted versions of various myths, but others adjusted for purposes of flow and the particular creative vision of the writer. He also explained that he truly enjoyed learning about history when it was crafted as a story, rather than as dry and dully-presented facts. History, philosophy, science, even topics a child may not be fully cognizant of (such as ethics and morality, ideas that run through the Halo series) can be incredibly compelling if presented in a way that stirs the imagination. These games may not have introduced him to these subjects, but they certainly provide illustration and a point for launching a dialogue.

There's something else, something subtler and yet more important in the broader picture of his development. He's learned that you can respect others despite sometimes gross differences in appearance or worldview, even if they could be considered the "enemy" by those less discriminating. Some of the characters opposed to the protagonist in the Halo series are alien in every sense of the word, yet he has - over the course of playing the game repeatedly as well as reading the tie-in novelizations of the story - come to regard them with respect and a great deal of affection. These antagonists have motivations that are familiar, and the storyline within the game has them experiencing anger, regret, sorrow, fear, any number of emotions that are known as "human," yet are clearly being expressed by non-humans. He regards them much as I did familiar characters from favorite novels when I was his age, existing only in the imagination but clearly with a significant impact, their lives meaningful despite their fictionality. And my son is much better prepared to deal with people radically different from him than I ever was at his age, and I admittedly still have some reservations about others on the far end of every conceivable spectrum from me.

There are many other ideas and moments engendered by the game that I could discuss endlessly - the concepts of honor, courage, and loyalty; the meaning of loss and grief; how humor can be found in even the darkest of moments. My son and I have spent hours laughing and goofing about in the game itself, ignoring the plot and game level demands to just be silly. Some of these ideas will be reserved for other posts. Others will be moments for my son and I alone.

He's a smart, funny, talented kid who plays the cello, is a straight A student, excels in the Boy Scouts, and is protective and nurturing of children smaller and younger than himself. And when he's hanging out with Dad, likes to spend time saving the universe in a video game. It may be bothersome to people who believe video games are detrimental to a child's psychological well-being that my boy is so well-balanced. That only shows that they're less interested in the child, and more in a personal or political agenda that has nothing to do with me or my son.

And you can bet we'll be at it again, sooner than later.

Lost opportunities

2007-06-05T13:32:00.000-07:00

Science fiction (and fantasy) has received a good deal of surprising acclaim lately, in some ways justifying the devotion of the geek subculture but also highlighting the rise of creative quality in the genre. Movies such as Lord Of The Rings and The Pirates Of The Carribean series, super-hero flicks Batman Begins and the Spider-Man series, and televison programs like Lost, Heroes, and especially Battlestar Galactica (proclaimed by critics to be the "best show on television"), cross predefined lines of interest among audience members, a phenomenon attributed to a focus not just on effects, but writing, directing and acting.

What's interesting to note is the ratio of tie-in merchandise to the varying degrees of perceived maturity in the indivdual programs. Many major motion pictures with a science fiction and/or fantasy theme will have scads of actions figures and accessories available in retail stores before the premiere, as well as more limited collectibles created by companies such as Diamond Select Toys or McFarlane Toys. Television series typically take a little longer to get lines of collectibles going, but the fan of Lost, 24, The Simpsons, The Family Guy, or even defunct shows like The Justice League Unlimited can find new collectibles on retail shelves.

Notable exceptions are Battlestar Galactica and Heroes, both of which will have figures released in the near future but seemingly tardy to take advantage of the rabid fan base. The question is why are they so late in being released (BSG will be starting it's fourth and final season in the fall), especially considering both shows are tailor made for action figures?

I think a large part of it is due to a perception on the part of the producers that collectibles - and action figures specifically - appeal to a narrow range of viewers, and that while both shows were popular, their audience members were not typical collectors. Battlestar Galactica has huge appeal to demographics that can't be lumped into the standard "collector" market, which undoubtedly didn't encourage them to hurry the hell up.

Whatever the reasons, I think they missed a prime opportunity, one which the producers of Heroes aren't likely to repeat. Because a program of such outstanding and well-rounded quality as BSG can move their viewers to become engaged at a level that they may have not considered before.

Case in point - I buy and resell action figures on eBay, and though I rarely keep any (as I like money far too much to hold on to a toy that could double my investment), if and when I purchase figures from the series, I will be loath to get rid of them. The show has had such an impact on me, moved me more than once, that even my mercenary impulses are dampened by my love for the show. So you can imagine how other, less monetarily driven fans might feel about memorabilia from such a ground-breaking program. And it's more than likely that buyers of this memorabilia will be relatively new to action figure collectibles, initiating among some of them an entirely new hobby.

So with the impending arrival of these figures, most fans will feel that it's better late than never. But I can't help wondering at the opportinities lost - for the show's producers in being able to address fan desires as well as add to the show's revenue, and for current and future fans and collectors who want a bit more than DVD season box sets to reinforce their connection to the program.