During a business trip to Las Vegas last week I managed to catch a showing of Spamalot. It was hilarious and worth every penny.
If you haven't seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail (and I can't imagine anyone reading this who hasn't), then you won't have nearly as much fun watching Spamalot as someone like me, who has the film nearly memorized. Half the good feeling I got from watching Spamalot was seeing all the classic skits replayed on stage, and enjoying the cheers in the audience when the black knight strode onto the stage, for example, or when Arthur and co. rolled out the wooden badger. Many in the audience recited the lines right along.
Spamalot does differ from Holy Grail in several ways. There's far more musical numbers--no surprise given that it's a musical--and there's also greatly expanded roles by a couple minor characters, including the Lady of the Lake and Herbert, the gay singing prince. Spamalot is also a send-up of Hollywood musicals in general, with a particularly funny lancing of Hollywood love songs ("The Song that Goes Like This").
But the audience is also treated to most of the best parts from the movie, including the French knights, the black knight, the "bring out your dead" scene, Launcelot slaying half the wedding party, Tim the Enchanter, the peasant who argues with Arthur's right to kingship ("Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony"), and of course the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog. A couple omitted items I missed included the Knights of Nee/shrubbery scene (the Knights of Nee were in Spamalot, but there was no shrubbery, alas), and the two guards/"make sure he doesn't leave" scene was also left out. Ah well.
I also enjoyed the scenery and stage props--they rolled out a large-sized castle on stage for the scene with the French knights, and actually fired a large stuffed cow over the wall, for example. There was also a very funny effect when the rabbit beheads Bors--his head rolls around on stage and red streamers spill out of the neck. Playing the role of King Arthur was John O'Hurley of Seinfield fame (J. Peterman), and he was excellent.
If you get a chance to see it, I highly recommend Spamalot.
"Wonder had gone away, and he had forgotten that all life is only a set of pictures in the brain, among which there is no difference betwixt those born of real things and those born of inward dreamings, and no cause to value the one above the other." --H.P. Lovecraft, The Silver Key
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Exploring the wondrous myth of King Arthur
I’m not a monarchist, but on some level I find the prospect of being ruled by a kind and just king comforting. Living the life of a noble knight in which your mission is to be obedient to his word and protect the weak from tyranny is pretty appealing, frankly.
This wishful thinking is, of course, flawed, as its based on a childishly idealized portrayal of authentic medieval monarchies. In order for an actual monarchy to succeed, the king (or queen) must be the human ideal, a paragon of strength, wisdom, justness, and grace--in other words, someone who never was, and probably never will be. With an imperfect man on the throne, we'd see poor policy, unfair laws, or at worst a cruel dictatorship. Real history is rife with examples of corrupt kingdoms.
Nevertheless, this quest for perfection on earth is part of the reason why I find the Arthurian legend in all its forms so powerful and compelling. The other reason of course is that the best of these tales--Thomas Malory's Le Morte Darthur, the film Excalibur, T.H. White's The Once and Future King--are amazing works of art which not only tell a great story, but convey deeper meaning about mankind, the roots of passion and conflict, social and spiritual ideals, and more. These, the best Arthurian stories, are worthy of study and repeated readings/viewings.
I've often wondered whether Le Morte Darthur is at some level an elaborate criticism of monarchies--after all, if ruin afflicts the kingdom of even the near-perfect Arthur, and was fated so from the start, then when can a monarchy ever succeed? But perhaps Malory's intent was to present in his work an honest portrayal of a king who is flawed because he's just a man, after all, but is nevertheless the shining ideal for past and future civilizations. After all, he is the once and future king, and according to Malory will return again at some time of dire need, presumably:
Hic Iacet Arthurus, Rex Quondam Rexque Futurus (Here lies Arthur, The Once and Future King)
Over the years the myth of King Arthur has taken on as many different forms as it has tellers. Each author, director, musician, and artist has his or her own version the Knights of the Round Table and Camelot, a shining, golden kingdom that illuminated a dark period in human history.
I've listed here my own criteria for tales of King Arthur. These elements should make their way into the story in some form:
Arthur (of course), a semi-divine king, a lawbringer, selfless, whose only fault is his love for his knights, which blinds him to Launcelot's indescretions with Guinevere.
Must reads
This wishful thinking is, of course, flawed, as its based on a childishly idealized portrayal of authentic medieval monarchies. In order for an actual monarchy to succeed, the king (or queen) must be the human ideal, a paragon of strength, wisdom, justness, and grace--in other words, someone who never was, and probably never will be. With an imperfect man on the throne, we'd see poor policy, unfair laws, or at worst a cruel dictatorship. Real history is rife with examples of corrupt kingdoms.
Nevertheless, this quest for perfection on earth is part of the reason why I find the Arthurian legend in all its forms so powerful and compelling. The other reason of course is that the best of these tales--Thomas Malory's Le Morte Darthur, the film Excalibur, T.H. White's The Once and Future King--are amazing works of art which not only tell a great story, but convey deeper meaning about mankind, the roots of passion and conflict, social and spiritual ideals, and more. These, the best Arthurian stories, are worthy of study and repeated readings/viewings.
I've often wondered whether Le Morte Darthur is at some level an elaborate criticism of monarchies--after all, if ruin afflicts the kingdom of even the near-perfect Arthur, and was fated so from the start, then when can a monarchy ever succeed? But perhaps Malory's intent was to present in his work an honest portrayal of a king who is flawed because he's just a man, after all, but is nevertheless the shining ideal for past and future civilizations. After all, he is the once and future king, and according to Malory will return again at some time of dire need, presumably:
Hic Iacet Arthurus, Rex Quondam Rexque Futurus (Here lies Arthur, The Once and Future King)
Over the years the myth of King Arthur has taken on as many different forms as it has tellers. Each author, director, musician, and artist has his or her own version the Knights of the Round Table and Camelot, a shining, golden kingdom that illuminated a dark period in human history.
I've listed here my own criteria for tales of King Arthur. These elements should make their way into the story in some form:
Arthur (of course), a semi-divine king, a lawbringer, selfless, whose only fault is his love for his knights, which blinds him to Launcelot's indescretions with Guinevere.
Launcelot, the best knight and the stuff of legends, but flawed by his passion for Guinevere.
Guinevere/Launcelot betrayal. The story should in some way depict the love triangle, which played a part in the downfall of Camelot.
Foundation of Arthur’s kingdom/round table/chivalry/code of law. The foundation of right over might, representing a codification of order and peace and light as a bulwark against the chaos and tyranny of the Dark Ages.
- Merlin, who adopts Arthur and who represents the old guard of paganism and faerie giving way to Christianity.
- The Quest for the Holy Grail, the literal search for religion and Christ's cup at the last supper, but also the symbolic quest for a spiritual ideal, an internal search to elevate the soul beyond earthly ambitions. The myth of the Fisher King.
- Mordred, the ill-begotten son of Arthur and his half-sister Morgause. He delivers the fatal blow to his father on the battlefield, and prior, when his betrayal strikes a grievous blow to Arthur's heart.
- Camlann, the final battle, which must include Arthur’s wounding by Mordred, and his spiriting by boat to the mystical island of Avalon.
- Excalibur, which confers a divine right upon Arthur when he draws it from the stone, and is cast into the sea at the tale’s end. Like Arthur it too will be found and return in some shadowy, indetermine future time, a powerful weapon with the singular, paradoxical ability to unite.
- Camelot, the idealized kingdom of gold and silver spires.
- Anachronistic elements. While I like the idea of the 5th century “historic” Arthur, as best portrayed by Bernard Cornwell in his terrific Warlord Trilogy, I enjoy more the full plate armor, 14th and 15th century, classic version of the knights of the round table.
- Mythical beasts. If you like your Arthur with anachronisms, I figure that you might as well go full-bore and throw in serpents and giants and dragons, too.
- Galahad, the paragon of virtue who succeeds in finding the grail and ascending to heaven. Other versions have Percival finding the Grail.
- Morgan le Fay, the evil enchantress and foe of Arthur.
- Sir Gawain, one of Arthur's bravest and perhaps his most loyal knight, whose desire to revenge himself on Lancelot for the murder of his (mostly) wicked brothers helps lead to the downfall of Camelot.
Must reads
- Any version of Thomas Malory, the wellspring from which the tales flow (yes, I know there are older French sources, as well as Monmouths' History of the Kings of Britain, but these works contain scattered bits of the myth. Malory created the first complete narrative of the Arthur legend. I have a copy of Malory: The Complete Works, as edited by Eugene Vinaver, which retains the old English. But any version of Malory is acceptable.
- The Once and Future King , T.H. White. The best modern treatment of Malory available. It's simultaneously very readable and focuses on the philosophical and moral underpinnings of the tale.
- The Warlord Chronicles, Bernard Cornwell. Great three-part series which portrays the "historic" Arthur (who is believed to have existed in some form in the 5th century). Brutal and realistic to the period.
- Pendragon/The Great Pendragon Campaign, Greg Stafford. A meticulously researched role playing game by Greg Stafford. Unlike Dungeons and Dragons, which contains a mish-mash of elements from fantasy literature, Pendragon's game engine is designed specifically to recreate the spirit and events of Malory. It's a great read besides.
- Excalibur. By far the best version of the myth ever put to screen. This is unlikely to ever be surpassed.
- Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Now a cliche, but it remains one of the funniest movies ever made and a great send-up of the tale of Arthur.
- The soundtrack to Excalibur, as performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Terrific score that includes tracks borrowed from Richard Wagner's Ring cycle.
- Mordred's Song, Blind Guardian. Powerful, epic treatment of Mordred that captures the pathos of the villain of the Arthur myth and renders him sympathetic ("No one can heal me, nothing can save me, no one can heal me; I've gone beyond the truth, it's just another lie; wash away the blood on my hands, my father's blood, in agony we're unified")
Monday, May 5, 2008
Hrolf Kraki's Saga: A viking warlord in King Arthur's court
Though life is lost, one thing will outlive us: memory sinks not beneath the mould.
Till the Weird of the World stands, unforgotten, high under heaven, the hero's name.
--The Bjarkamaal
It is a glaring weakness of mine as a lover of fantasy literature that I haven't read deeply of the Norse sagas. For example, sitting on my shelf right now and staring at me like a thick challenge is The Sagas of Icelanders, a massive tome in the Penguin Classics line which has remained on my "to read" list for far too long. It's a shame because, in the few instances in which I've encountered the Sagas, either in translation or adaptation, I've enjoyed the heck out of them.
Hrolf Kraki's Saga by Poul Anderson falls into the latter camp. It's a terrific little novel (260 pages in paperback) that moves with the speed of lightning and hits with the impact of Thor's hammer. As I said in a past post about Anderson (see my review of The Broken Sword), he's an author that seems to be largely forgotten these days, and when his name is mentioned it's usually for his prolific career as a science fiction writer, or for Three Hearts and Three Lions. But Anderson loved the Viking Sagas too. While arguably a better book, The Broken Sword is Anderson's creation; Hrolf Kraki's Saga is a retelling of the life and times of an actual Danish king. From the foreward by Lin Carter:
He was a real man, he really lived; he was the greatest of the Kings of the Danes and his court was glittering and fabulous, like that of Arthur at Camelot; there gathered the foremost heroes and warriors, the champions of their age--Bjarki, who held the charmed longsword Lovi; Svipdag, the slayer of berserkers; young Hjalti, who owned the magic sword Goldhilt.
But the old myths and tales of Hrolf Kraki are scattered and piecemeal. Anderson brings them all together in Hrolf Kraki's Saga (he calls it a 'reconstruction'), spinning a wonderful, epic tale in the process. It's a tale that's not for the faint of heart, as Anderson admits in his own foreward:
Hrolf Kraki's Saga by Poul Anderson falls into the latter camp. It's a terrific little novel (260 pages in paperback) that moves with the speed of lightning and hits with the impact of Thor's hammer. As I said in a past post about Anderson (see my review of The Broken Sword), he's an author that seems to be largely forgotten these days, and when his name is mentioned it's usually for his prolific career as a science fiction writer, or for Three Hearts and Three Lions. But Anderson loved the Viking Sagas too. While arguably a better book, The Broken Sword is Anderson's creation; Hrolf Kraki's Saga is a retelling of the life and times of an actual Danish king. From the foreward by Lin Carter:
He was a real man, he really lived; he was the greatest of the Kings of the Danes and his court was glittering and fabulous, like that of Arthur at Camelot; there gathered the foremost heroes and warriors, the champions of their age--Bjarki, who held the charmed longsword Lovi; Svipdag, the slayer of berserkers; young Hjalti, who owned the magic sword Goldhilt.
But the old myths and tales of Hrolf Kraki are scattered and piecemeal. Anderson brings them all together in Hrolf Kraki's Saga (he calls it a 'reconstruction'), spinning a wonderful, epic tale in the process. It's a tale that's not for the faint of heart, as Anderson admits in his own foreward:
Here is no Lord of the Rings, work of a civilized, Christian author--though probably it was one of Tolkien's many wellsprings. Hrolf Kraki lived in the midnight of the Dark Ages. Slaughter, slavery, robbery, rape, torture, heathen rites bloody or obscene, were parts of daily life ... Love, loyalty, honesty beyond the most niggling technicalities, were only for one's kindred, chieftain, and closest friends. The rest of mankind were foemen or prey. And often anger or treachery broke what bonds there had been.
Yet Hrolf Kraki transcends this time by carving out a shining kingdom reminiscent of Camelot, "a moment of sunshine during a storm which raged for centuries," according to Anderson, driving back the darkness and bringing a rough order to a savage, dark world. The basic story is as follows:
Kraki is the son of King Helgi and Yrsa. His father is slain by the treachery of King Adhils of the Swedes, whose lust for Yrsa leads to foul murder and Yrsa's capture. Kraki inherits the throne and gathers great heroes to his side, including Svipdag, the one-eyed slayer of berserkers, and Bjarki, the son of a shape-changer, who retains some of his father Bjorn's bear-like size and strength (hmm... name sounds familiar).
Together, the group reunite the Danish kingdom a-la the Knights of the Round Table, avenge themselves on Adhils, and begin a seven-year reign of peace and prosperity of such greatness that its legend survives the ages.
Of course, this is Icelandic Saga and no gold can stay. Ultimately all is undone by Skuld, Hrolf Kraki's jealous sister, who convinces her husband Hjorvardh to rise up against Hrolf Kraki. He brings with him an army of cutthroats and mercenaries, strengthened by trolls and demons summoned by Skuld, a practitioner of the black arts, and starts a final battle against Hrolf Kraki and his men Ragnarok-esque in proportion.
If this doesn't sound awesome, your blood must run cold.
I won't spoil any more, but will end by offering a simple encouragement to find a copy of Hrolf Kraki's Saga and read it. You can blow through it in two nights and it will leave you thirsting for more of the Northern myths. As for me, The Sagas of Icelanders is calling...
Saturday, May 3, 2008
"The Unnatural City" finds a place in The Cimmerian
The latest issue of The Cimmerian (Vol. 5, No. 2, you can find a complete listing of the contents on The Cimmerian Web site ), contains an article I wrote, "The Unnatural City." It's my attempt at analyzing a Robert E. Howard short story, "Red Nails," easily one of my top five favorite Howard stories of all time.
For those unfamiliar with the story, here's a brief outline: Conan and Valeria of the Red Brotherhood enter the ancient, forgotten city of Xuchotl (actually--and in true Howardian form--they are more or less chased inside by a dragon). While at first the city appears deserted, soon they discover that the final stages of a centuries-old blood feud is playing out to its grim end. Adventure ensues as Conan and Valeria are thrust into the middle of the two warring tribes, and into this incendiary mix Howard tosses a crawling monster from the crypts, a mad sorcerer, and dark magic. The story culminates with a murderous orgy of violence in the labyrinthine halls of the city. Pretty cool stuff.
I chose the word "labyrinthine" because that's the feeling I received while reading Howard's descriptions of Xuchotl. As his readers know, Howard despised civilized man, whom he felt became soft and degraded due to living a life bereft of battle and survival and honest labor. Howard's antipathy was also directed toward that symbol of civilized man, the modern city, our own concrete jungles. Howard's fullest depiction of the city occurs in "Red Nails" and led to the inspiration for my essay. For the record, I'm no fan of city life, either, and seem to get lost every time I drive into Boston.
Thanks to editor Leo Grin for his patient work hammering my essay into publishable form and providing some helpful references to Howard's letters. I hope subscribers of The Cimmerian find it interesting, and perhaps take from it some food for thought the next time they wander the halls of Xuchotl in their mind's eye.
Edit: If you haven't been to The Cimmerian in a while, check out this great post on J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion by blogger Steve Tompkins. Interesting, well-written, and well-researched posts like these are why I always find time to swing by that worthy website.
For those unfamiliar with the story, here's a brief outline: Conan and Valeria of the Red Brotherhood enter the ancient, forgotten city of Xuchotl (actually--and in true Howardian form--they are more or less chased inside by a dragon). While at first the city appears deserted, soon they discover that the final stages of a centuries-old blood feud is playing out to its grim end. Adventure ensues as Conan and Valeria are thrust into the middle of the two warring tribes, and into this incendiary mix Howard tosses a crawling monster from the crypts, a mad sorcerer, and dark magic. The story culminates with a murderous orgy of violence in the labyrinthine halls of the city. Pretty cool stuff.
I chose the word "labyrinthine" because that's the feeling I received while reading Howard's descriptions of Xuchotl. As his readers know, Howard despised civilized man, whom he felt became soft and degraded due to living a life bereft of battle and survival and honest labor. Howard's antipathy was also directed toward that symbol of civilized man, the modern city, our own concrete jungles. Howard's fullest depiction of the city occurs in "Red Nails" and led to the inspiration for my essay. For the record, I'm no fan of city life, either, and seem to get lost every time I drive into Boston.
Thanks to editor Leo Grin for his patient work hammering my essay into publishable form and providing some helpful references to Howard's letters. I hope subscribers of The Cimmerian find it interesting, and perhaps take from it some food for thought the next time they wander the halls of Xuchotl in their mind's eye.
Edit: If you haven't been to The Cimmerian in a while, check out this great post on J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion by blogger Steve Tompkins. Interesting, well-written, and well-researched posts like these are why I always find time to swing by that worthy website.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
McKellen, Serkis sign on to reprise roles in The Hobbit
Hooray! In case you haven't seen the official announcement, this from Eonline today (read the full story here):
Later on the article cites the return of Andy Serkis (Gollum) as well. Good news all around, as McKellen arguably played the most convincing role in all of LOTR (although Sean Bean as Boromir was great, and I'm partial to Sean Astin as Sam as well).
Sir Ian McKellen is going there and back again.
The acclaimed British thespian, who, as the wizard Gandalf the Grey, helped shepherd Frodo Baggins through a perilous journey in Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings trilogy, has announced he will reprise his Academy Award-nominated role for the hugely anticipated Hobbit prequels.
"Yes, it's true," McKellen told Britain's Empire movie magazine. "It's not a part that you turn down. I love playing Gandalf."
The twin films will be based on J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, which of course he published before his epic Lord of the Rings cycle.
Later on the article cites the return of Andy Serkis (Gollum) as well. Good news all around, as McKellen arguably played the most convincing role in all of LOTR (although Sean Bean as Boromir was great, and I'm partial to Sean Astin as Sam as well).
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Fight On! has plenty of old-school spirit
The very first article in Fight On!--"A fanzine for the old-school renaissance"--details a method for quickly and randomly generating colorful details for fleshing out dwarf PCs. It's a fun little article and a pretty good indication of the contents to come, and refreshingly, there's no mechanics or feats to be found.
Fight On! is a new quarterly print magazine published and edited by Ignatius Umlaut. You have to order it through lulu.com , an on-line self-publishing outfit. It checks in at a slim 30 pages, but I can honestly say it feels like there's a lot of content between its covers. It costs $6.00 plus shipping and it took about a week to arrive in the mail after I ordered it--not bad for processing, printing, and shipping.
Although Fight On! caters to original three-book D&D (OD&D) players, its applicable to any of the older versions of the game. I would imagine that 3E players could also find lots of inspiration and ideas here as well. I myself never actually played OD&D, having cut my teeth on the excellent Tom Moldvay basic edition and later AD&D 1E, but I experienced an easy familiarity (and a strong bout of nostalgia) as soon I started reading.
Overall I found Fight On! to be a useful, fun publication. Although some articles falter a bit, throughout it remained very true to old-school campaigning in heart and spirit. The articles have imagination and depth to them, and it's easy to see why--they are taken from the contributors' own detailed campaign worlds, many of which are mentioned by name. The writing style of many of the articles has a Gygaxian ring, incorporating vivid descriptions and language and a Dungeon Master's air of authority and whimsy. For example, in "The Devil's in the Details," the author points out that players should add character to their PCs by using moderate bits of flavor, but no lengthy, complex backstories, lest the "weight of history collapse her into a scripted doom." I miss this style of writing in the 3E manuals, which are far too text-booky and staid for my tastes.
One notable change is that, presumably for copyright's sake, Fight On! does not use obvious D&Disms. Therefore, levels become "ranks," hit points "wounds," armor class "defense class," and so on. I found this slightly jarring at first read but barely noticed it thereafter.
The contents include:
Fight On! is a new quarterly print magazine published and edited by Ignatius Umlaut. You have to order it through lulu.com , an on-line self-publishing outfit. It checks in at a slim 30 pages, but I can honestly say it feels like there's a lot of content between its covers. It costs $6.00 plus shipping and it took about a week to arrive in the mail after I ordered it--not bad for processing, printing, and shipping.
Although Fight On! caters to original three-book D&D (OD&D) players, its applicable to any of the older versions of the game. I would imagine that 3E players could also find lots of inspiration and ideas here as well. I myself never actually played OD&D, having cut my teeth on the excellent Tom Moldvay basic edition and later AD&D 1E, but I experienced an easy familiarity (and a strong bout of nostalgia) as soon I started reading.
Overall I found Fight On! to be a useful, fun publication. Although some articles falter a bit, throughout it remained very true to old-school campaigning in heart and spirit. The articles have imagination and depth to them, and it's easy to see why--they are taken from the contributors' own detailed campaign worlds, many of which are mentioned by name. The writing style of many of the articles has a Gygaxian ring, incorporating vivid descriptions and language and a Dungeon Master's air of authority and whimsy. For example, in "The Devil's in the Details," the author points out that players should add character to their PCs by using moderate bits of flavor, but no lengthy, complex backstories, lest the "weight of history collapse her into a scripted doom." I miss this style of writing in the 3E manuals, which are far too text-booky and staid for my tastes.
One notable change is that, presumably for copyright's sake, Fight On! does not use obvious D&Disms. Therefore, levels become "ranks," hit points "wounds," armor class "defense class," and so on. I found this slightly jarring at first read but barely noticed it thereafter.
The contents include:
- Dedication to Gary Gygax. A most appropriate way to kick off the publication.
- The Devil's in the Details. Adding detail to dwarven PCs. Includes tables (a staple of old-school RPGs) from which players can generate personality traits, unique equipment, and background details.
- The Swanmay. A new character class, the swan maiden. While this is a bit too high-fantasy for my tastes, I enjoyed the free-wheeling writing style of this article. Example: "I don't begrudge people who want to try an interesting character with a few extra abilities, but if balance is an issue for you or your players you might consider levying a 10% penalty to rank advancement." A perfect example of rules as suggestions, not a straightjacket.
- Flexible Sorcery. Probably my favorite article in Fight On!, this describes ways to make mages feel more magical, including spontaneous magic (granting mages the ability to summon small spells at will, more for flavor and creativity); counterspelling (a method for negating an opposing magic user's spell as your action); and magical duels (a fun, easy-to-use system for resolving mano-y-mano wizard duels). Includes another fun table that the loser has to roll on, with the results ranging from smoke pouring out of the losing wizard's ears to encasement in amber or outright annihilation. How cool is that? This piece was accompanied by a fun wizard-duel cartoon reminiscent of some of artwork in the 1E Dungeon Master's Guide.
- The Ruined Monastery. A fun little drop-and-play dungeon crawl that seems like a fun afternoon of gaming.
- The Tomb Complex of Ymmu M'Kursa. I didn't know what to make of this. It's a description of a tomb with tons of flavor and horror and weird touches, including deathtraps and sci-fi elements, but it's presented without any adventure hooks or level suggestions. This is old D&D at its most extreme--a simple location description at your disposal.
- Setting up your Sandbox. A great DMing advice article for novice/intermediate DM's about running a free-wheeling, player driven campaign. Ends with a great line that gets to the heart of old-school RPGing: "The stuff of pure gaming joy isn't always what you might encounter in a well-written novel." Amen.
- Puissant Priestly Powers. New spell-like abilities for clerics. Some cool ideas but some of these effects seem a bit unbalanced (yikes--the dreaded balance word).
- Enchanted Holy Symbols. Great little sidebar about magical holy symbols.
- Nature's Nasty Node. A mid-level adventure. I wasn't wowed by the adventure but there's some nice ideas to mine in here, including the Node itself, a corrupted dryad pool.
- The Space Wizards. A high-level campaign seed that was a bit too crazy for my tastes (space wizards, end of the world scenario, etc).
- Creepies & Crawlies. This article fell a bit flat for me, unfortunately. The monsters are nothing to write home about and I didn't find its tounge-in-cheek style all that funny. Oh well.
- In the Time of the Broken Kingdom. A very nice closing editorial by the editor that looks back with fondness on the old days, and discusses the future of old school gaming and its possibilities with optimism.
- Aftifacts, Adjuncts, and Oddments. A page of magic items. Wyrmdread--a sword forged in the elf-dragon wars--was particularly cool.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Uh-oh: del Toro hates heroic fantasy?
The bloom appears to be already off the rose of newly-signed The Hobbit director Guillermo del Toro--and the ink on his New Line Cinema contract isn't even dry. Del Toro, who has gained commercial fame and critical acceptance for films like Hellboy and Pan's Labyrinth, and who seemed like a good fit for the project--although I haven't seen any of his films--apparently does not like nor has ever cared for J.R.R. Tolkien or classic fantasy, according to this Salon article. Here's the excerpt, taken from an interview between Salon and del Toro back in 2006:
I couldn't help thinking of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis in this film [Pan's Labyrinth]. Were you a fan of those books?
I was never into heroic fantasy. At all. I don't like little guys and dragons, hairy feet, hobbits -- I've never been into that at all. I don't like sword and sorcery, I hate all that stuff.
C.S. Lewis was another thing. I really enjoyed him as a kid, but he's too Catholic for me. It's not something as an adult I can feel comfortable relating to.
Needless to say this does not bode well for The Hobbit. My first reaction was, "That sucks, but maybe he'll just stick to a by-the-numbers adaptation of a nice script by LOTR screenwriters Philippa Boyens/Fran Walsh/Peter Jackson." But that hope quickly dissipated. A director has to be invested, body and soul, in a film for it to work. Especially a project like The Hobbit and its sequel, which according to published reports will take a hefty four years to complete from writing to filming. That's a lot of time to spend with a film whose source you don't much care for.
Perhaps del Toro will channel his dislike into his own vision of Middle Earth and create something unique and artistic with The Hobbit. But even if it succeeds artistically, it won't be Tolkien. And if it isn't Tolkien, or something reasonably close, I won't be happy. Say what you will about Peter Jackson's LOTR (and it has its share of detractors), but it hewed pretty closely to the books. Where it did deviate in plot or character, it remained true in spirit and intention. I can't see how someone who "[doesn't] like little guys and dragons, hairy feet, and hobbits" can direct The Hobbit with any passion, let alone faithfulness to the source material. Am I missing something here?
I couldn't help thinking of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis in this film [Pan's Labyrinth]. Were you a fan of those books?
I was never into heroic fantasy. At all. I don't like little guys and dragons, hairy feet, hobbits -- I've never been into that at all. I don't like sword and sorcery, I hate all that stuff.
C.S. Lewis was another thing. I really enjoyed him as a kid, but he's too Catholic for me. It's not something as an adult I can feel comfortable relating to.
Needless to say this does not bode well for The Hobbit. My first reaction was, "That sucks, but maybe he'll just stick to a by-the-numbers adaptation of a nice script by LOTR screenwriters Philippa Boyens/Fran Walsh/Peter Jackson." But that hope quickly dissipated. A director has to be invested, body and soul, in a film for it to work. Especially a project like The Hobbit and its sequel, which according to published reports will take a hefty four years to complete from writing to filming. That's a lot of time to spend with a film whose source you don't much care for.
Perhaps del Toro will channel his dislike into his own vision of Middle Earth and create something unique and artistic with The Hobbit. But even if it succeeds artistically, it won't be Tolkien. And if it isn't Tolkien, or something reasonably close, I won't be happy. Say what you will about Peter Jackson's LOTR (and it has its share of detractors), but it hewed pretty closely to the books. Where it did deviate in plot or character, it remained true in spirit and intention. I can't see how someone who "[doesn't] like little guys and dragons, hairy feet, and hobbits" can direct The Hobbit with any passion, let alone faithfulness to the source material. Am I missing something here?
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