Stephen King's The Shining, book and film

I’m a big fan of The Shining, book and film. Both work really well, for slightly different reasons.

My grandfather owned this edition.

I encountered the book first, discovering it along with many other horror and men’s adventure titles through my grandfather. He used to keep a few shelves of well-worn paperbacks behind his easy chair and down in his basement, and when my parents would visit or drop us off for a night of babysitting I’d inevitably find something good to read.

Among the titles that stand out from this time are Whitley Striber’s The Wolfen and Stephen King’s The Shining.

I “read” both as a kid, skimming here and there for the good parts. Both scared the shit out me. My grandfather’s edition of The Shining had the added bonus of stills from the movie, so I had a visual representation of Jack Torrance, Wendy and Danny.

Eventually I would view the film, which also scared the shit out of me as a kid and later bring me great artistic pleasure as an adult. But the film has been so successful and vivid in the public imagination that it has in many ways surpassed the book and become the definitive version of the story. So, I decided to revisit the novel, deep as I am in the Halloween season and struck as usual by the need to indulge my horror sensibilities.

There are many similarities between film and book. The deep isolation of The Overlook, its history. Danny’s ability to “shine,” his precognition as well as knowledge of things that have passed. Jack’s instability. The major plot points and beats of the book are there in the film, too. The endings differ greatly, though people make a little too much of this. Both Danny and Wendy escape, and Jack does not, even if the “how” is quite different.

The book however departs from the film in other interesting and important ways, perhaps principally in that it’s a character study of Jack Torrance. He’s not the sole POV character (Wendy and Danny, and minor characters including Dick Halloran get their turns, too), but it’s mostly Jack’s story. A man battling his demons—career frustration, artistic failures, domestic chafing including resentment for his wife--all fueled by the demon of alcohol. Danny’s “shining” gets a much deeper, fuller treatment in the book. He can detect not only moods but whole thoughts in the heads of others. The motivation for the Overlook wanting him is therefore much stronger in book than film.

I’ve mentioned before that films and books have their unique strengths. 

The film does some things better than the book. Stanley Kubrick’s long, panoramic shots of the approach of the Torrance family in their VW bug, and the hotel interior, empty hallways and ballrooms and kitchens, lend the film a sense of physical isolation that the book cannot quite match. The iconic shots of the murdered twin girls and the tsunami of blood from the elevator are so strikingly rendered in film that they surpass the book, too.

But the book gets us inside Jack’s head in a way no film can. I found myself understanding and even sympathizing with book Jack on a much deeper level than Jack Nicholson’s portrayal. I love Nicholson in the film (his work approaching Wendy on the staircase--“Wendy, gimme the bat”) and later crashing through the bathroom door with an axe (“here’s Johnny!”) are fantastic, but he’s pretty much unhinged from the get-go, a veneer of normalcy papered over an unstable lunatic that needs very little psychic urging from the hotel to erupt. In the book we get much more of the why behind Jack’s vulnerabilities, including his childhood traumas with an abusive father, creative frustrations, self-loathing and guilt, and his deep struggles with alcohol.

In short, I love both versions, but the book serves as another example of why I appreciate both mediums and don’t privilege one above the other.

Not all books need be movies

I like movies. I really do. Need I say this? 

I mean, not liking movies is akin to not liking ice cream. It’s un-American. Heck, it’s inhuman.

I’ve posted numerous reviews of my favorite films. I seem to have a sweet spot for the early 80s, the likes of Blade Runner and Terminator and Excalibur and The Road Warrior (throw in Raiders and the Goonies for good measure). But I watch and enjoy new films too.

Now that I’ve paid my homage to celluloid, I’m not particularly fond of the fetishization of film by lovers of classic characters and IP. The incessant cry of, “this is such an awesome character, but when are we ever going to get the movie!”

Let’s take Conan. We have the amazing Robert E. Howard stories. We’ve got shit-tons of terrific comics, including great new material today from Titan. Pastiche novels. Even a loosely adapted but nevertheless magnificent 1982 film. So when I hear the incessant, when are we going to get a real Robert E. Howard film. We need one! It cheapens what has been done already. Just a bit, and IMO.

But you don’t understand Brian, we need a proper Conan film.

Why? Why do we need one?

I just don’t have the same hand-wringing urgency to get a movie made. 

Here’s my question to the people I can feel protesting this post.

When was the last time you said, “that was an AWESOME movie… they really need to write the novelization! Like, now!”

The answer is… never.

Seriously, when was the last time you ever heard ANYONE say, “I love Furiosa… when is George Miller going to get an author to write the novel? That’s what we really need.”

I’ll wait. 

When you always want “the movie” you are signifying an artistic hierarchy, one that places movies at the top and television in the middle (“it needs to be made into a Netflix miniseries!”) and poor old books at the bottom—perhaps just above static paintings or digital art.

Captain obvious incoming, but films and books are different mediums. Which means they do some things better than the other.

Films have many inherent advantages over books. The visuals are obvious. But also, sound. The wonderful dialogue, pregnant pauses and raised voices that convey additional levels of meaning are very hard to replicate in a book. And also, wonderful scores. Seriously, just hearing John Williams’ opening theme from Jaws immediately sends hackles up my spine and makes me nervous even when I’m in the neighbor’s swimming pool.

It’s awesome. Books can’t do this.

This combination of gorgeous visuals and stunning sound sweep us up, and make a great movie in an IMAX theater a thing of beauty. An event that I’m glad we have. Did I mention I love movies? I was blown away by Maverick and 1917 and of course The Lord of the Rings (though the book is better).

But books have their own distinct advantages too—advantages even over film. Like character interiority.  This is very hard to do in a film, without awkward voiceovers. 

Unbridled imagination is another. Film budgets and run times reign in possibility. Because budgets are an issue, the sprawling sweep of a book must be a dramatized compression on the screen. And thus worlds feel smaller than in the book. The Lord of the Rings is a prime example. I love the films, but Middle-Earth isn’t as big, or as grand, as Tolkien's vision.

The third is the unknown—HP Lovecraft can describe something awful beyond our imagination by not showing it. In film, which is purely visual, something must be shown. And it’s rarely as good as our imagination.

But the most important is artistic integrity.

Because movies are made by hundreds if not thousands of people, and because they cost so much, many fingers must touch the final product—including studio executives hungry for a return on their big investment, and their shareholders. Which means, compromises are made.

An author with a single artistic vision has inherent advantages, if they are talented and that vision is true and powerful. As a result books tend to have sharper edges and brighter colors.

I mean does anyone think we’d actually get an accurate “Red Nails” or “The Man-Eaters of Zamboula”? I don’t.

Even if homemade movies made on the cheap but well, by some guy in a basement with cutting-edge AI and a computer render some of these arguments invalid, the underlying principle remains: Books do some things better than film. Which means there are novels that will always, from now until the sun turns cold and dark and burns out altogether in the far-flung future, be better than any movie adaptation. 

OK, we do need a Dying Earth movie. 

But if we don’t get one? It’s OK.

The world will keep spinning.

We’ve already got Vance’s book … and the book is better.

The 13th Warrior in the House, with Rogues

You think upon what is to come, and imagine fearsome things that would stop the blood of any man. Do not think ahead, and be cheerful by knowing that no man lives forever.

--Eaters of the Dead, Michael Crichton

The latest episode of the Rogues in the House podcast is out and I'm in the guest seat, talking the 1999 film The 13th Warrior with Matt and Deane.

Listen (and subscribe) here.

I have to say I'm not a huge fan of the film. It has its rousing moments, awesome pre-battle speeches, and a couple epic scenes, but drags in other places. It has a bit of a "talky" introduction, too much telling and not enough showing, though this works better in the 1976 novel on which its based, Michael Crichton's Eaters of the Dead. The filming was beset with difficulties; Crichton came on for a script rewrite and took over as director, firing John McTiernan—but reportedly was happy with the end result. McTiernan disputes much of this. 

The film was a financial flop but has earned a bit of cult status, especially among fans of sword-and-sorcery. 

I liked the film well enough upon rewatch but remain a bigger fan of the book, which IMO does a better job addressing the theme of the past as a different place.

We have two schools of thought: One is that people are people, and only the times and technology and education, etc. are different. And I do think there is such a thing as a fundamental human nature—that we are social, that we are fundamentally good, curious, etc. 

But a second school says that the past (especially the deep past) was a different country.

As I state at one point in the podcast I think some modern S&S and other writers get this aspect wrong, with characters behaving like a 21st century man or woman would in certain circumstances. And I get it; these are fantasies, so historical verisimilitude is not necessarily the main objective. But if for example you believe that fate is inexorable, that there is a Valhalla awaiting the brave you will behave much differently than Joe Schmoe walking down Broadway in 2024. Death in the Viking Age was not nearly as traumatizing and all-encompassing as it is today. Death in combat was a celebration; young women willingly submitted to ritual execution by an “Angel of Death” to accompany a fallen chieftain on the other side. 

Their general acceptance of death so fully and without remorse, and disdain of fear, explains why the Northmen could go a-Viking, and kill and pillage and take slaves and hold their own lives lightly.

Today we recoil from such behavior but it makes for truly fantastic writing (i.e., displacement from the real).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the episode.

Feeling like it's time to watch these again

Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?

I have. To this book. And to the movies.

But it's been a while.

Today was my last day in the office until I return on January 2, 2024. A blessed 11 days of downtime. I think it's time for a rewatch of one of my favorite films (yes, I consider this one film) of all time. 

Great, not unreservedly so, but great.

I saw these one by one as they premiered in theaters and still love them. And am pleased to own the extended versions on DVD. Were I to watch them all back-to-back-to-back (which I never have done), Google tells me it's 11 hours and 36 minutes. An investment. 

But it's time.

The big Excalibur post

Up on the blog of DMR Books is the big Excalibur post I've been meaning to write for years. 2K words about not just one of my favorite fantasy films of all time, but top 10 favorite films of any genre. It's also my attempt to analyze what director John Boorman's vision and objective was with this film, why the King Arthur myth endures, and what it can still teach us today. Why we need the old stories, and our inherited mythologies, which we abandon at our peril.

I think many viewers get hung up on Excalibur's sometimes stilted and declarative dialogue, the historical anachronisms, etc., and are too quick to dismiss what I believe is a masterpiece (YMMV). I've watched many subsequent King Arthur films that embrace more traditional filmmaking techniques, but none have managed to do what Excalibur did, which is render myth on screen for a modern audience.

Check it out here. 

Fellow DMR blogger Deuce Richardson has pointed me in the direction of a "making of" documentary on Excalibur, "Behind the Sword in the Stone," which I shall view next: https://www.tvguide.com/movies/behind-the-sword-in-the-stone/2030331927/.

Finally, I'm glad Excalibur has resisted remakes some 42 years after its debut. I welcome new King Arthur films, but not a remake.

Top 10 reasons why I don’t care about Amazon’s The Rings of Power

The Rings of... Meh.

Perhaps you might be wondering, hey, when is that guy from The Silver Key going to weigh in on The Rings of Power? He loves Tolkien.

Consider this that post, but it’s probably not the droids you’re looking for.

I haven’t watched ROP, and at this moment have no plans to. I explain why in this handy top 10 listicle.

A caveat: If you like ROP that’s great! The point of this post is not to (overly) criticize the show, because I haven't seen it. That wouldn’t be honest, or fair. It's to explain my lack of interest. 

That said, apathy for a richly budgeted, dramatic interpretation of a beloved property must have some basis in negativity or critique. In my case, I saw each of The Lord of the Rings films in the theater on opening night, buying advance tickets and braving big crowds and sticky theater floors to watch Tolkien on the big screen. In contrast, I have Amazon Prime, could watch ROP at the click of a button from the safety of my living room… and have yet to expend even that amount of non-effort on the show. Why? My answers follow.

If you like or love the show and think I should give it a chance, please explain why. Who knows, you might win me over. But it will be an uphill battle.

1. The rights weren’t enough. No Silmarillion? No coherent storyline to hang an adaptation upon? Big problem. I knew the writers of ROP were facing monumental issues after learning that they only had rights to the Appendices of LOTR, not the 12-volume History of Middle-Earth nor The Silmarillion. There is no cohesive story to hang a dramatic series on, which means much artistic interpretation is required. That’s a recipe for failure. J.R.R. Tolkien was a genius, and trying to recreate what made him great from appendices and notes is a near-impossible task. The Jackson films were at their best when they hewed to Tolkien’s story and dialogue. In short, the limited deal struck by Amazon was like planting seeds into a thin, arid field, and expecting a rich crop. 

2. The Hobbit wrecked me. If I were to critique the loudest critics of this show it’s with this point: Your Peter Jackson veneration has a large blind spot. Remember these awful films? Like LOTR I also saw them in the theater. Not only did they suck, but I blame The Hobbit for creating the template that film adaptations of Tolkien must be LOUD AND EPIC AND IMPORTANT. The Hobbit (book) is rather small and cozy, save for The Battle of Five Armies and Laketown. The focus should have been on atmosphere and character, and instead it became a wholly unnecessary nine-hour epic. ROP seems to be a continuation of this fundamental misunderstanding of what makes Tolkien great. It’s not bombast and spectacle, it’s story and heart.

3. Dumping Tom Shippey soured me early. I wish we had a better recounting of what led to this foolish decision, but Shippey is the closest human being on earth we have to Tolkien, now that Tolkien’s son Christopher has passed. To cut the World’s Greatest Tolkien Scholar from the project seems to me a major misstep. He was an advisor on the Jackson LOTR films and played a part in their successful adaptation. Plus, he’s a genuine good dude (I spent more than an hour with him years ago at a convention in Boston, and he was very kind and generous with his time). 

4. The reviews haven’t been good. I read and watch reviews (and have written a fair number myself), and I have learned enough to know this show has some serious problems. Many disregard critics (“those who can’t, teach,” etc., and other such nonsense). I don’t. If it’s a source I trust, or if the reviewer is objective, thoughtful, and fair, these hold weight for me. I’m too old and my time is too limited to mindlessly consume entertainment without some indication that it’s worth my time, which leads me to point 5.

5. I only have so much time. I’m 49 years old and am acutely aware that I have only so much time on this planet. I’d prefer to spend that time providing for my family, spending time with family and friends, writing/creating, and reading. The ROP is apparently set to run five seasons, x 8 shows per season, and one hour per episode. That’s 40 hours minimum time investment. That’s a big commitment on something which apparently is not very good (see #4).

6. I’m not a big TV watcher. Give me a book any day. My current TV consumption is some evening news, and the occasional football game. My daughter got me into Stranger Things and I enjoyed that well enough. Beyond that, I don’t watch TV. My friends are still in shock when I tell them I haven’t seen Breaking Bad or The Wire or Better Call Saul or Ozarks, or whatever the hot property is at the moment. I'd rather do other things with my time than suck on the glass teat.

7. I like movies better. Movies have much more appeal than episodic, open-ended series that may or may not end well... if they end at all. Sure, movies can suck too but at least it’s only 2 hours wasted, as opposed to the folks who sat through seven seasons of Game of Thrones only to suffer through a dumpster fire final season. Or folks that invested time in prematurely cancelled shows. I did watch The Walking Dead and was sorely disappointed when that show began to rot from within, ambling along like a mildly hungry animated corpse. Maybe it’s the sword-and-sorcery fan in me, but give me the quick-hitting single film (S&S short story) over the multi-episode, multi-season TV series (phonebook epic fantasy equivalent).

8. I’m old and jaded. Hype bounces off me. I’ve seen enough, and done enough, and experienced enough heartbreak and disappointment, that trailers, regardless of how well-made, aren’t going to move me. I need to find the commitment from within. The irony is this is coming from a guy who works in marketing. 

9. It’s Amazon. I don’t particularly like this company, even though I admire its efficiency in delivering my packages on time. Doesn’t Amazon own enough of the world already? Do we want to live in a world where it also owns all art and product, in addition to the means of distribution?

10. I don’t want to see Tolkien adapted anymore. Yeah, it’s selfish, maybe petty. I don’t know. We’ve got the books, some cool old cartoons, the Jackson films. That’s more than enough. There are wonders beyond compare in The Hobbit, LOTR, The Silmarillion, HOME, The Children of Hurin, The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun, his letters, etc., not to mention the hundreds of academic volumes examining his works. All of this should be enough. If the right director were to do the right adaptation, for example a Robert Eggers directed The Children of Hurin, I’d watch it. But even then, we don’t NEED it. We’ve got the books, and the books will always be better. You can’t out-do Tolkien’s unique brilliance, no matter how big your budget. Sorry Jeff Bezos.

S&S updates: Dunsany, New Edge, book deals, and a fine response to a troubling essay

Hail to the King of Dreams, baby.

A roundup of recent-ish news and updates on the sacred genre.

My most recent essay for Tales from the Magician’s Skull is up, a piece on fantasy in the era of Lord Dunsany. You can read that here. I’ve recently been digging into a short, informal, but interesting quasi-biography by Hazel Littlefield (at right), who visited Dunsany in his home country and later hosted him late in his life during a trip to the United States. “Fantasy” was a different country back then, wilder and with almost no borders and boundaries, not the oft-discussed, greased publishing machine with its various subgenres and conventions that we have today. I get into a little bit of that in the essay, restrained a bit as TftMS has a hard-ish cap of around 1,000 words.

New Edge, a new S&S digital magazine headed up by Oliver Brackenbury of the “So I’m Writing a Novel” podcast, is now open for registration. The first issue (#0) is free and I believe the plan is to gauge interest for a paid ‘zine, supporting new authors and artists. Recently I agreed to write an essay on the outsider trope in S&S for this debut issue (got to get cracking on that).

Not “new” news, but new-ish to me, is the forthcoming Conan novel Blood of the Serpent, a prequel to “Red Nails” now available for pre-order. I have not read anything by author S.M. Stirling, but after a recent conversation with Deuce Richardson I feel confident that he’s a solid choice for this novel. Stirling has a reputation as a good writer with a big imagination and knows REH inside and out. Time will tell. I hope it’s better than the average novel in the TOR line.

Baen signs Howard Andrew Jones to a five-book deal. I’m glad to see a publisher with some budget and clout invest in S&S, and HAJ is a good author to get behind. I have enjoyed his The Desert of Souls and some of his short fiction in Tales from the Magician’s Skull, and these books will feature his exiled general Hanuvar. Let’s hope this is just the tip of the spear for a continued S&S revival.

I have yet to say anything on the new Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, of which we’ve now seen a couple trailers (or maybe “teaser trailers”?). I’ve been underwhelmed at the generic, CGI-heavy glop I’ve seen to date. The core problem is Amazon’s lack of rights to Tolkien’s actual material. A large, multi-interest conglomeration does not possess Tolkien’s soul and vision, his unique time-and-place honed brilliance with languages, and love and care for his creation. The odds are this will disappoint. The Jackson LOTR films worked because they largely stuck to the source material, and his Hobbit films flopped when they deviated from the book. Amazon has precious little rights to Tolkien’s source material. What we really need is Robert Eggers directing The Children of Hurin.

Finally, I wanted to point folks in the direction of this lengthy but fine post by Jason Ray Carney, rebutting a recent article which made the case that sword-and-sorcery needs to be updated for a modern audience (part of a natural process of discernment), and its old works discarded. We all engage in the process of discernment; it’s why we read Shakespeare instead of instruction manuals, and admire and preserve the Sistine Chapel instead of a child’s crayon drawings. Discernment helps explain why we might love the Chronicles of Narnia or the Chronicles of Prydain as a child, but choose not to read them as adults; though they might still be good books, we’ve developed a more refined palate for adult prose styles or complicated storylines and themes. Likewise, through a process of discernment, many readers have moved away from S&S over the years. But, personal discernment strikes me as very different than a general call to discard literature that someone, somewhere finds problematic. When reading old pulp or pulp-inspired S&S of the 60s-80s, my advice remains consistent: Detach and apply historical context, or as Carney suggests, adopt an egalitarian attitude of “chronopolitanism.” We can like old and new things, simultaneously. We can enjoy old barbaric works as entertainment without becoming barbarians ourselves. 

In summary; If this “new edge” movement embraces the likes of Renegade Swords and Schuyler Hernstrom alongside the likes of the Whetstone crew and Howard Andrew Jones, etc., I’m in. If it draws lines based on adherence to certain political views, or places bounds on artistic freedoms, I’m out.

Top Gun: Maverick, a review

From Mustangs to modernity... looking forward, and back.

I had more fun watching Top Gun: Maverick than I had any right to.

I trekked to the theater the other night to catch a viewing and am so glad I did. You could not wipe the grin off my face. Not from the moment Tom Cruise delivered a classy, simple, direct, pre-movie thank you message to the audience, to the end credits, where I said to myself, damn, that was fun.

This film was just what I needed at the moment, and I think a lot of Americans did as well.

I cannot begin to express how much I enjoyed the absence of political messages. The cast is diverse, but naturally so. There is no demoralizing, divisive moralizing. No 50 shades of gray, everyone is shit including the heroes-type messages. 

And yet, this film has a heart, and more complexity than the original. It is pro-American but without being jingoistic. Just optimistic. 

Optimism … remember that? We all could use some of that right now, in this torrent of daily negative news, and divisive nastiness. The film delivers it. I suspect it’s part of the reason for its smashing box office success. A needed message, at the right time.

Top Gun: Maverick could have gone in a different direction. The broad lines of the plot are that the Navy calls upon an aging Cruise/Maverick to instruct a group of young pilots, who are needed to fly a dangerous, low altitude bombing mission to destroy a nuclear enrichment plant. This naturally raises some questions. Who is the country that wants to enrich uranium? Shouldn’t a sovereign country have this right? Why should the U.S. be the world’s police? Etc.

The film avoids asking them.

These are fine questions … but they don’t belong in a film like this, which served a different purpose. That Top Gun: Maverick doesn’t dwell on them not make it a bad film. Just a film with a different lens. You can say that this simplicity is a fault, but I disagree.

So, is this just a simple, dumb action film? Surprisingly, no. It is a commentary on aging gracefully. Letting go of the need to control everything, and accepting help—which is not a weakness, but rather a sign of growth and maturity. Tom Cruise’s character was finally able to do this, completing an arc which began in the first film when he famously abandoned his wingman.

I loved the commentary on the role of humans in an increasingly technological age. The drone revolution is coming, unmanned planes are on the horizon. We can all see this, and wonder what it will mean. But as Cruise says in the film—that time ain’t yet. Bravery and ambition still have a place, people have a role to play in the fortunes of the world. You can feel that same sentiment at a meta level, in the film goer experience too. Leaving your house and watching a movie on a big screen with a group of people in all their messiness, still has value, still delivers something that a solitary Netflix viewing on a computer cannot replicate.

Top Gun: Maverick acknowledges that the world has changed in the last 35 years, and that more changes are on the horizon, but also acknowledges there is still value in the old ways. If that makes the film conservative on some level, then so be it. But without any tradition, shorn of our old stories, what do we have? There is value in looking forward, and back.

I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoy nostalgia. I understand it can be manipulative, even harmful if the intent is to obscure the truth. In large, heavy doses it becomes cloying, even sickening, like eating too much sugar. This movie struck the right balance. A love and respect for the original film, many nostalgic callbacks and references but not obnoxious.

It is far-fetched? Of course. [MINOR SPOILER ALERT] When Cruise and Goose’s son find a fueled up, fully operating enemy F-14 to effect their escape, it nearly broke the third wall for me. Nearly, but not quite. And hell, was it ever fun.

Speaking of fun… the jets are a marvel, but then again I'm smack-dab in the target audience. My dad used to take me to air shows as a kid and I have seen the Thunderbirds and Blue Angels fly. I have seen F-14s and F-16s and F-18s up close, felt the roar of their afterburners in my chest. I’ve been to the Air Force National Museum in Dayton, OH. I have a deep respect for military aircraft. Fighter jets are impressive, their raw power and maneuverability. And in Top Gun the F-18 is on full, glorious display. The film contains very little CGI compared to most modern action films and as a result felt entirely convincing. The stunts are real, performed in real planes flown by highly skilled pilots with the actors filmed in the same planes, experiencing the same G forces. 

This is one you should catch while it’s still in the theaters. The studio held this until the pandemic subsided and I can see why. The medium, the message, factored in the decision to get people back in the flesh in real theaters, enjoying the experience together. It worked, at least for this guy.

Conan the Barbarian (1982) at 40

The barbarian triumphant... and contemplative.

My latest post is up on DMR Books. Conan the Barbarian at 40 (can it really have been 40 years)? It seems like just yesterday I watched it for the first time, peering through my fingers as my old man fell asleep on the couch. I entered a rough and violent world, one that spoke to me like very few films have ever managed to do, before or since.

I'll be honest, I think this film is genius. Not flawless, but a work of true inspiration. John Milius put a lot of love and ideas and care into this film, and an uncompromising vision. Sure, he took a lot of liberties with REH's character, but I maintain that if you dissociate the film protagonist from the literary figure, and enjoy it as a Howard-inspired sword-and-sorcery film, you can't help but be moved.

Anyways, hop over to DMR, read the post, and let me know what you think. Love or hate CtB, I always enjoy talking about the film.

By the way I mention near the end of the post that I recently re-read the novelization of the film by DeCamp and Carter. This did not hold up, and probably deserves a post of its own at some point. Stick with the movie.

For Your Eyes Only... just what I needed

An involuntary swim with sharks,
mollified by embrace of hot babe.

Last night I decided a mental break was in order and so I watched 1981’s For Your Eyes Only. It was just what I needed. I gave it my full attention, and it held it. I had forgotten how much action is packed into this film, scene after scene of hijacked helicopters, car chases through the Greek countryside, ski chases down mountainsides, death-defying climbs up sheer rock faces, underwater brushes with sharks and divers in murderous deep-water suits, on and on. Incredible fun, never a dull moment.

I watched this film many times as a kid, as it seemed to be on HBO every time I turned on the TV. But it had been ... 35 years since I saw it last in full? More? I think part of the reason I was so enamored with what I was watching was nostalgia. There is something about the 80s, the early 80s … it just made me extremely comfortable, the low-tech and no cell phones and Bond's turbo Lotus and Walther PPKs and flings with beautiful women. Set against the backdrop of the cold war. All exotic (for the time), but now intensely familiar, reminders of a time that has slipped into history. 

Yes, like all Bond films this one has its share of ridiculousness. I had forgotten one sequence where three dudes in full hockey gear attempt to kill Bond on an ice rink. They gear up in full uniforms, skates, sticks, masks... none bothered to bring a gun, and Bond disposes of them, one by Zamboni, and tosses them into a net, which tallies the 3-0 score on a scoreboard. WTF... but still awesome. 

Bond films are great for so many reasons, but one is the familiar flourishes and sequences. Every film seems to have Bond walking through a laboratory to view Q's latest contraptions and spy gear. This one had a spring-loaded arm cast capable of smashing a head, and an umbrella that, when exposed to water, snaps down with murderous steel hooks around the user's neck. I always love the opening action/title sequences, the dalliances with Moneypenny, the physical specimen goons, and of course Bond's roguishness and effortless charm, even in the most dire of circumstances.

The on-location film work was beautiful, the pre-CGI stunt work including high speed motorbike and ski chases through the snow of the Italian mountains, and mountain climbing, impressive. The theme song is one of the best in the series, earning a nomination for Best Original Song at the Academy Awards in 1982. It sets the tone... it's got sex in it, but also mystery, just what a Bond film needs of course.

I started the new job on Monday and it was just what I needed after a firehose of a week. I need to do this again. One film, and the world, is not enough.

Are there any Bond aficionados out there that would recommend another? There are many I have not seen, and I'm itching to work backwards to keep the nostalgia train running... but also I have yet to see a single Daniel Craig entry in the series. I know, but I just don't watch much TV, at all. I'm torn between Goldfinger, The Spy Who Loved Me, and the 2006 version of Casino Royale, the latter of which I've heard so many good things about. I have seen Goldfinger, but so long ago that most of the details (save Oddjob, the laser sequence, and a gal dipped in gold) have escaped me. 

Probably hard to go wrong with any of them.

Bad ass car that we didn't get to see enough of ... thugs
should have heeded the warning.

Latest Rogues in the House podcast is up: Deathstalker 2, and Flame and Crimson too

The Ultimate Sword-and-Sorcery podcast

The latest episode of the Rogues in the House podcast is now available for your listening enjoyment. The cast and crew of Rogues were kind enough to ask me on the show, and I have to say I had a BLAST. I mean, I spent last Thursday evening drinking a couple beers and talking sword-and-sorcery, Deathstalker 2, and the zaniness of the 1980s in general. 

We had way more fun than we had any right to, but if you can't laugh watching Deathstalker 2 you were obviously born without a sense of humor.

Check out the episode here. We also talked Flame and Crimson quite a bit as well.

Rogues in the House: Deathstalker 2!

You won't find this level of beefcake ...

Any fans of this fun podcast, the only program wholly dedicated to sword-and-sorcery? I’m one of them, and tonight I get the pleasure of guesting on an episode.

 

The topic? Deathstalker 2: Duel of the Titans.

 

Somehow I had never watched Deathstalker 2. I look back upon my many years of renting the most exploitative videos I and my high school buddies could find, idle time spent scrolling YouTube, the additional (painful) video research I conducted for Flame and Crimson, and I wonder how this one eluded me. The only explanation I can come up with is that Deathstalker 1 is so outrageously awful, near irredeemable, that I wanted no further part of the series. 

 

In addition, I’ve consciously avoided the S&S films of the 80s. It got too depressing to see a subgenre that gave us Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, The Dying Earth, Conan and Kull, Elric, etc. handled so badly on the silver screen.

 

But, in recent years I’ve made peace with sword-and-sorcery films. I view them now as a cornball corner of pop culture history to enjoy as guilty pleasures. And, I’m already glad I got the opportunity to guest on Rogues because Deathstalker 2 is fun. Sword-and-sorcery fans will find their subgenre treated with about as much subtlety and reverence as Animal House did for undergraduate education. I would describe it as objectively a bad film, but subjectively awesome. It knows what it is, and while not a true parody like Men in Tights for example it is entirely a tongue-in-cheek take on S&S. 

 

Make no mistake, this is by any measure a bad movie. Really bad. The acting is below the level of a soap opera, the plot barely a thread, the script full of holes, and the sets and props are cheap and flimsy and entirely recycled. It lacks proof of having been backed by anything resembling a budget; in fact, there really wasn’t one. If there was, it was spent by the cast and crew in Argentinian dive bars. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the hell out of it. It’s a poor man’s Army of Darkness.

 

You can currently find Deathstalker 1 and 2 on Tubi, a free movie service. My advice: Skip the first and head straight to the sequel. And look for our insights and analysis of this fine film on an upcoming episode of Rogues in the House.

20 year anniversary of the Fellowship of the Ring/LOTR films

I was there, Gandalf. I was there 3,000--err 20--years ago.

20 years ago today New Line Cinema and director Peter Jackson delivered unto the world the first of the three Lord of the Rings films, The Fellowship of the Ring (release date Dec. 19, 2001). I was there on opening night.

There was huge anticipation for these films. I was hoping against hope that they would be good, but I feared and expected the worst. The odds of them sucking were high. I could count on one hand the number of truly good fantasy films prior (Excalibur, Conan the Barbarian, Rankin Bass Hobbit, the original Star Wars trilogy should you count them as fantasy). And, my expectations were incredibly high. The Lord of the Rings is my favorite novel, across any genre. It is one of the greatest novels ever written, and stands alongside the best classic literature of the last two centuries, full stop. To put a work like this in the hands of a Hollywood studio was an invitation to butchery and disaster. Surely Jackson would not be able to meet the high standard I had set.

Nevertheless I had to see the films. They were getting a lot of hype and some advance praise from critics (which I largely avoided), and so made the trek to the theater on Dec. 19, 2001.

Opening night was pandemonium. There were people in line in elven cloaks and chain mail. Two dudes were swordfighting in front of the screen with boffer weapons. Most nerdy of all, a dude in the row in front of me watched the film with an LED headlamp on, following along with the book on his lap.

I kid you not. That's some hardcore nerdity right there. 

When the opening title sequence came on with Howard Shore's atmospheric score the audience broke into cheering and applause.

I will admit, I was rapidly swept away into the film. The Shire looked largely as it had in my imagination. The cast was spectacular. I was moved to tears with Boromir's death. Shockingly, against all my fears, it worked. I left the theater blown away, surprised by joy beyond anything I had hoped. Over the next two years, I repeated the pattern with The Two Towers and the Return of the King. I cried again, when Sam put Frodo on his back on Mount Doom, and Theoden led the ride of Rohirrim on the Pelennor Fields.

I was sad to see it all come to an end.

So, twenty years later, how do they hold up?

Pretty darned great, in my opinion. Great does not mean flawlessly. When I watch them now there are a few parts that I actively dislike (collapsing bridge sequence in Moria, shield-surfing at Helm's Deep, and the green ghost army at Minas Tirith). The Paths of the Dead sequence is not particularly well-done. I don't miss Tom Bombadil and believe that was a smart cut, but I do miss the scouring of the Shire, and believe that its excision makes it a lesser film. The action is over-emphasized and some of the slapstick humor is out of place. Jackson would amplify these flaws a hundred fold in the absolutely abysmal adaption of The Hobbit a decade later.

Are the movies as good as the book? No, they're not, and they could not be, not even with 12 films and an unlimited budget. The world we see on screen is not as deep or wide as the one we encounter in Tolkien's text. Some of the themes and much of the complexity was removed.

All that said, I'm full of gratitude that we have these films. I think 20 years from now they will still be beloved. They hold up, quite well. I'd still love to see a proper Hobbit but I'm happy with the LOTR films. It might be time for a rewatch over the Christmas break.

Moorcock's Missed Elric Opportunity

My latest entry for DMR is up. Check out Moorcock's Missed Elric Opportunity here.

This one seems to be gaining a lot of traction on Facebook and elsewhere. Combine a classic fantasy property with an interested director in 1970s Hollywood, and season with reminiscence by the author himself culled from a recent podcast--wham.

For the record, I don't need to see my favorite books adapted into film--I'm perfectly happy if they remain on the printed page. But I can't help but wonder what a Ralph Bakshi adaptation might have looked like. A mess quite likely, but perhaps something glorious, or at least messily memorable. The point is, we'll never know. 

Maybe one day Elric will be adapted to the screen, but Moorcock had the opportunity 43-odd years ago, and there's been nothing of substance since. Just speculation and development hell.

A review of Tolkien (2019)

I’m currently on a J.R.R. Tolkien kick, having finished both a re-read of The Lord of the Rings and a re-read of Humphrey Carpenter’s outstanding biography. Last night I watched for the first time Tolkien (2019), which I have both managed to (until now) avoid out of some combination of forgetfulness and anticipated dread of ill-treatment of its subject. I’m pleased to say that I found it a good film, not great, but worth the watch.

Tolkien focuses on Tolkien’s early life from roughly age 10, circa 1902, ending with him writing the iconic first line of The Hobbit, in the early 1930s. We get a heavy emphasis on his romance with Edith Bratt, his friendship with the T.C.B.S., four passionate boys who shared a common love of heroic literature, his love of languages, and his experiences with love and war that inspired his great story of the war of the ring and its underlying mythology.

Overall I enjoyed the film, and was moved by a few scenes. It took several dramatic liberties, compressing and magnifying various events to help propel along the sometimes quite ordinary course of about 25 years of his life. Other events I believe were wholly created—sneaking into the storage room of a sold-out concert hall to listen to a performance of the Richard Wagner opera “Der Ring des Nibelungen” with Edith, for example. Normally I would not complain about it, except that Tolkien was not particularly influenced by Wagner’s opera, despite the shared conceit of a ring of power, and a casual viewer of the film might leave thinking that Wagner’s Ring Cycle was the chief influence on The Lord of the Rings (it was not). Tolkien did romantically reunite with Bratt after the latter had gotten engaged to another man, and encouraged her to break off the relationship. But it did not happen in the seconds before Tolkien dramatically boarded a transport ship to France, as was portrayed in Tolkien. But I accept these changes in the spirit of needing to create a dramatic film, which is very different from biography or history.

Tolkien was also surprisingly low on the “cringe” factor. There were no made-up dramatic charges into German machine gun fire, embarrassing sex scenes, or manufactured maudlin T.C.B.S. speeches; rather the genuine friendship and spirit of the four boys was well-portrayed, as was Tolkien’s view of Edith as something akin to an elven princess (for better and for worse, as she often felt alienated by his split personality around her). Tolkien’s life had a great many tragedies and triumphs that required no exaggeration, and the film presented some of these faithfully. I particularly liked that it preserved the 1916 letter from G.B. Smith to Tolkien, in which the former foresaw his own end in the fields of France and implored his old schoolmate to continue the great work the T.C.B.S. had vowed to create:

My God bless you, my dear John Ronald, and may you say the things I have tried to say long after I am not there to say them, if such be my lot.

It is heartbreaking to think what came next: T.C.B.S member Rob Gilson died in one of the many suicidal advances across the mud-choked Somme battlefield, straight into German machine-gun fire; Smith suffered shrapnel wounds from an exploding artillery shell and later died of gangrene infection. That left only Wiseman and Tolkien to carry on the T.C.B.S.' promised great work. Tolkien developed trench fever and had to be evacuated back to England, which in all likelihood saved his life. He and Wiseman held up their end of the bargain: Wiseman would go on to become a school headmaster, while Tolkien of course would go on to become an Oxford professor and write the greatest fantasy the world has ever known.

The best account of this period of Tolkien’s life remains John Garth’s Tolkien and the Great War, which after Tom Shippey’s The Road to Middle-Earth is one of the best pieces of Tolkien scholarship I have read. But you could do worse on a Saturday night than a viewing of Tolkien.

The Last Wolf, a review

If you are a fan of Karl Edward Wagner’s Kane, or his horror fiction—or even if you’re only mildly interested in Wagner but have a broader interest in the development of modern horror fiction and its commercial boom in the 1970s and 80s—I recommend you seek out and watch The Last Wolf.

Last night I rented this new documentary which debuted on what would have been the 75^th anniversary of Wagner’s birth. It’s available on Vimeo for rent ($2.99) or purchase ($5.99) and runs just north of an hour and 40 minutes of screen time.

The Last Wolf covers the details of Wagner’s life, from his birth in 1945 to his untimely death in 1994, as told through a series of wide-ranging interviews. Filmmakers Brian McKnight and Brandon Lunsford have done a wonderful job seeking out and arranging thoughtful interviews with Wagner’s siblings, his ex-wife, childhood friends including John Mayer, and several horror and fantasy luminaries including the likes of Peter Straub, Dennis Etchison, Stephen Jones, David Drake, S.T. Joshi, and Ramsey Campbell, among others. We get everything from Karl’s precocious early days in the classroom as the youngest of four children in Wagner household, to his days as a medical student, breaking into writing, hanging out with the likes of Manly Wade Wellman, founding Carcosa Press, and tearing up the scene as a charismatic figure at fantasy and horror conventions. It includes some actual footage of him speaking on panels and the like, which is surprisingly hard to find.

The filmmakers also used a substantial amount of footage of Wagner’s former residences and schools, artistic long shots of creeping Kudzu vines and menacing sticks, and the like, which lends the film an arresting visual appeal. Wagner is feted as underappreciated but major horror author and editor who married pulp traditions and Weird Tales with a modern horror sensibility and helped ring in the horror boom of the 1970s. The film takes its time (which I loved) on the mimeographed fanzines and small press magazines of the 1970s, the likes of Whispers for example, that provided Wagner and many other authors an important outlet to tell their stories. “Sticks,” perhaps Wagner’s greatest story, appeared in Whispers. A LOT of love and care and effort went into this documentary, and it shows. Kudos to everyone involved in this project and I gladly would have watched another hour of run time.

The Last Wolf is not perfect. I think it suffers a bit from a lack of a strong narrative thread. The absence of an agenda is refreshing and the interviews carry the documentary along, but the story meanders without an omniscient voice overlaying some basic facts and dates. This will not impede or deter any of Wagner’s hardcore fans, but will make the film less accessible to a general audience.

The film is broken up into four parts. Part 3 (“Undone by his Own Bad Habits”) treats with Wagner’s alcoholism, which ultimately cut his life short at age 49. This tragic aspect of his life was not sugar-coated, and The Last Wolf spends time examining the terrible impacts wrought by booze on his professional writing life and his personal friendships. There is also talk at the end from his siblings about his languishing literary estate, and the apparent lack of interest in his works by major publishing houses. This helps explain why his works remain hard to obtain in print (although I have to think some smaller press publishers would gladly take up the offer to reprint the Kane stories, at least). Straub theorizes that Wagner’s lack of novel output is partially to blame, as short stories are a hard sell these days unless your name happens to be Stephen King.

You should support these types of efforts with your dollars. Per the producers all the money made streaming the film will help produce a limited edition DVD/Blu-ray copy with some additional scenes. Show your appreciation and go watch The Last Wolf.

The Last Wolf is out

I'm really looking forward to this new documentary on Karl Edward Wagner. "The Last Wolf" has been some time in the making by Brian M. McKnight and Brandon Lunsford and is now available for purchase on Vimeo. 

Check out the trailer here: https://vimeo.com/thelastwolf?fbclid=IwAR0LMZ3jQrQadN8VqYkl3gz9lM6Gu0z85-ORq75ImWntTHEC6uHfQZJ61Xc

There is a huge dearth of critical and biographical material on Wagner and I hope this film helps to rectify that.

An ode to Dazed and Confused, and days gone by

When cars were cars... 

Whoo-man, I just watched Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused (1993) last night, and experienced an intense bout of euphoria, nostalgia, and escape from present circumstances. What a great film—a film about kids doing nothing, but nevertheless manages to be about something very important. It captures the ethos of the 70s, but more than that, it captures the spirit of being a teenager on the cusp of responsibility, but not yet—critically, not yet, and with their senior year still to come can still revel the pleasures of companionship in aimlessness, the joy of a summer night with a cold beer.

There is no politics in this film—thank you Richard Linklater. No heavy-handed moral message or sermonizing. There is the quarterback whose coaches are pressuring him to sign a behavioral pledge, essentially asking him to sacrifice a piece of himself to the team. The kid refuses—it seems he will still play his senior year, but he’ll do it for himself, and his friends, and their bond, and not the dictates of the coach and what he stands for—conformity, sober, serious, responsible adulthood. Which now that I’ve experienced two+ decades of it, isn’t always a noble goal or the best of all aims. We exchange paychecks and respectable homes and careers for servitude and mortgages and loans. We lose our ability to be in the moment like these kids are, as our life becomes a series of worries about promotions, our boss, raising our children and their struggles, watching parents age.

There is something in Dazed and Confused that’s hard to put your finger on. It’s a vibe, it’s a feeling of being in the present in a warm night in Austin, Texas, with a trunk of cold beer. There is a lot of beer in this film, and lots of weed. I was never a weed guy but man did I enjoy (and still enjoy) beer. Kids ordering kegs of beer. Underage kids buying beer in liquor stores. Kids pulling up in cars with trunks full of beer, going to baseball games with open beers. Beer is the tool that completes the passage into liberation.

I can’t ever return to those days. But I can revisit the emotional reality of those days. Dazed and Confused can get me there in a heartbeat, as soon as “Sweet Emotion” and that orange 1970 Pontiac GTO makes that slow roll into the parking lot (damn, cars were SO MUCH BETTER back then—that’s not even debatable). I didn’t have quite the same experiences as these kids, but I had many that were very close—out of control parties when my parents went on vacation, buying beer underage, ramming trash barrels with my car, playing football, ogling girls. What I did share exactly in common was the joy of just driving around doing nothing with my friends. Popping a cassette tape in the stereo and hitting the streets and feeling like anything was possible. Parking in some secluded area and rocking out into the night, windows rolled down, cigarette smoke. I did all that, and it’s a part of my life that I look back on with incredible fondness. And I’m grateful that Dazed and Confused can still get me there, instantly and effortlessly there, in its 102 minute run time.

"That's what I like about them high school
 girls"... McConaughey's finest role.

I remember, vividly, when getting concert tickets to my favorite bands—KISS, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, RUSH—was the most important “job” of my summer. And so for me the end of the film, with the kids grinning ear-to-ear, laughing, enjoying each other’s company, as they roll down the highway to “Slow Ride” (the ride is the destination—don’t you see?) with the hugely important task of scoring Aerosmith tickets, and summer just beginning, is impeccably well-done. And a perfect note to end on—anticipatory, but also reveling in the now. The ride will continue, that slow ride with nowhere important to go.

1917 film review

Hell on Earth (but well done Hell).

1917 had been in my “to watch” queue for a long time (aka, floating around in the back of my mind), and last night I watched it with my older daughter, a self-described “film buff” who wanted to see what the hype was all about.

Two word review: Excellent film. It’s an intensely personal/soldier’s journey type of story, and also manages to convey the larger tragedy of the Great War. Outstanding costumes and set pieces, and deserving of its Academy Award for Best Cinematography. 1917 captures the enormous complexity/rat maze of the trenches in the latter stages of the war. It effectively juxtaposes the beautiful and relatively undisturbed green countryside of France existing behind the lines with the grotesque nightmare of no man’s land—massive shell holes collecting unimaginably polluted yellow water, ringed with corpses in various stages of decay, skulls and upthrust hands and filth. A little bit of Mordor.

Speaking of JRRT, a scene in which a young soldier (played by George MacKay) stumbles out of a corpse strewn river, on the verge of breaking, but is revived by the sound of Elf-like singing in the nearby woods, seems to me a bit of an homage to the professor.

It’s an engaging journey wrapped up in under two hours and I think it makes a great companion piece with Peter Jackson’s colorized documentary They Shall Not Grow Old (2018).

War films and the great stories build up a reserve of perspective on current situations. COVID-19 is scary. I’m worried about two parents in their 70s, one with a host of chronic illnesses including COPD, and my daughter who is still working part-time in a 62+ retirement community and putting herself at an elevated level of risk.

But when you think about men going over the top at the sound of the shrill brass whistle, with nothing but a cloth uniform between them and a machine gun bullet or shrapnel, present events are put into perspective.

Star Wars, nostalgia, and the insanity of fandom appeasement

(Warning: Spoilers if you have not seen the new Star Wars film. And rant coming).

Over the Christmas break I made a trip to the movie theater with my family to watch Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker. I had seen the prior entries in the new trilogy, and found them to be entertaining, fun, and occasionally moving, if somewhat predictable/formulaic action films.

I expected nothing less out of the third and got about what I was looking for: A reasonably satisfying conclusion to the arc that sees Rey (Daisy Ridley) go from homeless desert scavenger to self-actualized being and member of the Skywalker family, through making her own choice. This wasn’t done with particular grace or subtlety or complexity, and it was amid the usual wash of edge-of your-seat space battles and alien spectacle, but for what it was—a character narrative bolted on an action film that appeals to children, which is what the Star Wars franchise is and always has been—it worked, at least for me.

Then I watched Youtube to catch a few reviews. Big mistake.

I’m always curious to hear about others’ opinions of media I enjoy. In this case I wish I hadn’t. What I found was great swaths of 40-year-old man children in their basement complaining that the new Star Wars films did not meet their expectations.

That last bit is the key to why the fandom is pissed off: Unmet expectations. I might add, unrealistic expectations. I love A New Hope, and still feel a swelling in my chest when I hear the theme song kick in, or when Luke is staring into the sunset of Tatooine and into his future. But if I’m being honest, it’s also clunky and childlike. The acting is fairly wooden. I love the characters and the underlying mythic elements, the hints of the force and the scattered bits of references to the Old Republic and the Jedi Knights. But director George Lucas has admitted on several occasions that he was creating a film meant to be enjoyed by children. It worked. In 1983 I was 10, and thought Return of the Jedi was the best thing I’d ever seen, Ewoks and all. If I’m being fully honest my perception of the original trilogy is awash in nostalgia and my objectivity is severely compromised as a result.

Nostalgia is an amazing emotion, and part of the human condition. But nostalgia is the longing for something that you cannot recover. We’re never going to recover “Star Wars” as we knew it because we’re no longer kids ourselves. And the man-children and fandom at large have not come to grips with this fact.