The new Harry Potter movie comes out in just two weeks, and I’m pretty sure I won’t bother seeing it in the theater. The movies have never captured the feel of the books (save for maybe the third movie). Nevertheless, I am a fan, and the videogame version of the sixth book in the series came out the other day. Having some extra bucks left over on my GameStop card, I decided to pick it up.

I liked the last game in the series, which let me roam all over Hogwarts. Had the game been in any other fictional universe, I probably would have been bored out of my mind. But it was Harry Potter, so I liked it. A little. Much can be said for the new game, which is not as good, in my opinion, as the last, but entertaining enough for the seven dollars I paid for it.

You’d think that the game would be able to explore parts of the book that the movie couldn’t, due to time constraints. And this did happen in earlier games in the series. But now the games are not videogames based on the book, but based on the movie. And I can already see some places where the movie jazzed up the book in ways that are … well, let’s just say they are very, very bad. Bad enough that I don’t want to see the movie now. It’s strange getting this preview of the movie’s failings in videogame form, but it’s not the first time it’s happened, and likely won’t be the last.

So the game is the book’s narrative twice removed. Butchered first by the movie, the game takes the butchering one step further. Not only do we get the crappy screenplay version of the plot, but we get it with lousy voice actors and with character models that look like a cross between robots and zombies. But I get to wander around Hogwarts again, which is really all I want.

I’m still fascinated by the crappy stories game players are forced to sit through. Even the so-called “good” videogame stories are complete crap. I think back to Mass Effect, lauded by many as having one of the best stories of 2007. Of course, anyone familiar with SF could see that massive portions of the story were lifted from the later seasons of Star Trek: Enterprise. ENTERPRISE! Of all shows to crib from, they pick the (arguably) worst of the Star Trek series, and some of the most contrived subplots. Ick. Or the stories for Halo 3, or Metal Gear Solid: Guns of the Patriots. The stories are attrocious, despite the fact that (unlike movies) they have up to 20 hours to play with in terms of storytelling, and unlike books have the power of great visuals.

Both benefits are completely squandered. It’s unfortunate that some of SF’s best storytellers couldn’t help write some decent game scripts. Or, as I’ve said before, decent film scripts. Sure, the genre is different, and has different demands, but I’d like to see someone give it a serious try. The best game stories are about as coherent and thought-provoking as Transformers 2 (my review of which was posted just the other day). That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but we should be demanding better.

The worst thing is that most gamers don’t even realize that these stories are complete crap. Let’s be honest here: Harry Potter’s sixth book is fantastic. It’s a great story, and has moments of amazing adventure and genuine emotion. And I’d love to see those things on the screen, but it just isn’t going to happen. If I enjoy the movie, it’s because I’m superimposing my love for the book onto the movie. If I love the game (or just like it), it’s because I’m doing the same. But it shouldn’t be that way, should it?

tags: Books, gaming, harry potter, movies, science fiction
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I watched the opening minutes of the BBC’s show Merlin this morning, which is now running on NBC. I have a love-hate relationship with the BBC. I don’t much like the British television take on fantasy and SF, and Merlin is a good example of why.

I almost always eyeroll at least once in the opening moments. Why? Because they almost always choose to spell out things that are already obvious, as if we the viewers are complete idiots. So, the opening of the show is thus: in this fantasy version of medieval England, King Uther Pendragon has banned all forms of enchantment. There is apparently a good reason for this, as magic was the source of chaos and lawlessness twenty years in the past. But the era of chaos is gone. Nevertheless, the King continues the practice of executing those guilty of enchantment and magic. A young man is paraded through the square and his head is chopped off. Got it? Subtext perfectly clear.

But that’s not enough for the writers. In parades the mother of the boy just executed (and she’s an obvious hag of a witch). She then rants about the King’s intolerance and hatred of magic-folk, threatens death to the King’s son (Arthur, if you didn’t already know), and yadda yadda, then disappears in a flash of magic and wind.

Commence eyeroll.

Seriously, did she need to spell it all out? There are all sorts of problems with this. First, any talk of “intolerance and hatred” in a medieval context (even a fictional medieval context) is enough to trigger the anachronism trigger in me. Hell, I don’t like it when it’s done in modern contexts. I rolled my eyes at the episode in Firefly (God forbid I criticize the Joss Whedon masterpiece) when Simon Tam does the same thing when his sister is about to be burned as a witch. The simple fact is that we don’t need to be told this. In the case of Merilin I’m already perfectly well aware of the subtext thanks to the fine acting of Anthony Head. I don’t need to be told outright.

I have the same problem with the recent revival of Doctor Who, where there is this deep-seated need to come right out and say the obvious. It was also true (in spades) of the BBC’s Robin Hood, which simply could not contain its desire to expound on contemporary politics, despite the fact that it ripped us all right out of the narrative. The sad part is that they don’t need to do this. The subtext is usually obvious. Like a good joke, it’s ruined if you have to explain it.

But I’ll stick with Merlin a bit, mostly because I like Anthony Head, but also because the story is one of my favorites. Yes, there are already clear signs that they’re butchering it wholesale, but whatever. The whole history of the Arthurian legends is of one generation after the next changing it, often for the worse, sometimes for the better. Butchering it is part of the tradition. So butcher away. Go ahead. But let the actors do the work, and make sure the writers put away their sledgehammers. They don’t need them.

tags: television
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There is a huge gap between the scientific accuracy of SF novels vs. television and movies. Sometimes I can suspend disbelief long enough to let it slip (like the recent Star Trek’s reliance on “red matter” to create artificial singularities). Other times I just get irritated because the lack of accuracy (or any attempt at accuracy) is because the writers are too damned lazy to get it right.

SF Signal went around and asked a bunch of SF authors, bloggers and real scientists who they thought the worst offenders were, and who they thought got the science mostly right.

I thought their responses were pretty interesting. Star Trek gets taken to task pretty often (particularly The Next Generation), while other movies like Gattaca and 2001: A Space Odyssey get the thumbs up. I did notice that the more cerebral and less action-oriented the SF films were, the more likely they were to get things right.

Not all the comments are on the mark, though. Some complained of the over-the-top tech in some movies, like XXX, with its see-through-walls binoculars. I don’t think we’re meant to take those things seriously, so I can’t complain too much about them.

I guess my problem comes when shows desperately want you to take them seriously, but then start with the silly talk. That’s how Star Trek: The Next Generation always was for me. Very irritating. Some of the comments mention Fringe but again I have to disagree: as soon as it became obvious they were going with the alternate universe subtext, I kinda gave them a pass. Although I admit, the kooky science (not really “fringe” science, but outright sillines) did put me off to the show. But I learned to live with it, and find the show at least moderately entertaining.

Part of the appeal of SF, though, is doing things that can’t be done, or showing people what it might be like to do things that can’t be done. Things don’t need to be perfect. Sure, Star Wars’ battle scenes (even those in the original movie) were downright impossible and made no sense. But that’s not what the movie was about. It just looked damn cool. That was the point. So I’m willing to go pretty far for an adventure movie, but only so far.

tags: Books, movies, science fiction, television
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I love reading blogs, but there are just way too many of them. I’ve tried a number of RSS readers, and none of them do what I’d like them to do. They’re all too cumbersome. Over the last year, my blog reading has plummeted to the point where I really only ever vistit a handful regularly. And you know what that means: I’ve forgotten where a lot of the ones I used to read are. In particular, the blogs of a number of SF/Fantasy writers.

But now I’ve found a website that aggregates them all. Best yet, a brief snippet is available just by hovering over the post. Very nice. Blogs by John Scalzi, Elizabeth Bear, Robert Sawyer, Toby Buckell, William Gibson, and just about everyone else who writes SF/Fantasy and has a blog is on there.

Very cool.

tags: Books, media, science fiction
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So a few weeks ago I tried reading William Forstchen’s apocalyptic novel One Second After, which portrays the United States after an EMP (electromagnetic pulse) attack destroys our technological infrastructure. I say I tried to read it, because about halfway through I got bored. Very bored.

It started off well enough, but once the book confronted me with the messy reality that would inevitably follow such an attack, I realized the book was quickly re-treading old ground. I’d been there before. Lots of times. And while I do find it interesting to read stories about people in impossible situations, I expect that authors will have something new to say. Forstchen’s book didn’t say anything that hadn’t been said before. Sure, the source of the crisis was relatively new (EMP, instead of nuclear war, pandemic, environmental collapse, whatever), but from then on it was pretty much the same as any other post-apocalyptic storyline.

But my real disappointment with the book was the crisis itself, which I didn’t find all that frightening. EMP destroys technology. Chaos ensues. Sure. Okay. But unlike other books where the crisis event remains a danger throughout (Don’t go out in the radiation! Don’t catch the virus! Don’t get eaten by hungry, mutant wolves representing the angry Gaia spirit!), in this book the EMP happens and then … nothing. The real danger comes from other people being jackasses. That’s fine, but I kinda missed the urgency and tension of an ongoing crisis that other similar works provide.

The book had other irritations that made it difficult for me to read. The author consistently uses “could of” instead of the correct “could have” or “could’ve.” In spoken language “could of” and “could have” are very nearly indistinguishable. On the page, though, “could of”  simply doesn’t work. I could have (*ahem*) put up with it once or twice, but the author uses it so much that it was really starting to irritate me. The author is obviously trying to maintain that North Carolina feel to the whole thing, but it was unnecessary. The characters were a bit flat and uninteresting, and I often felt like the author was trying to manipulate me into feeling something for the characters rather than letting me like or dislike the characters on my own.

So I couldn’t quite finish it. And it’s not a long book, either. Maybe I’ll finish it up this weekend, but it will be a long, hard slog.

tags: Books, science fiction
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Here’s a list I stumbled on listing seven SF books that are, in that blogger’s opinion, unfilmable. The list includes some classics like The Stars My Destination (which I vaguely remember reading years ago), and A Canticle for Leibowitz, as well as some of my own favorites such as Neil Gaiman’s Sandman graphic novels and Dan Simmon’s Hyperion.

But here’s my problem with this (and all) lists like this: nearly all books are unfilmable. Not if you want to stay true to the source material and do it justice. I’ll admit that the Lord of the Rings trilogy did as best as could be done in bringing the books to the big screen. But don’t mistake best as could be done with good. The movies mangled most of the subplots, destroyed a few beloved secondary characters, and lost most of the central theme of the books. So, no, they weren’t good translations of the book to the screen. But they were good movies, which is all I really wanted.

So I guess this depends on what you mean by “filmable.” I don’t like movies made from books, in general. Books are very different beasts than screenplays, and it’s best to keep the two separate, in my opinion. Movies are inherently brief, and derive their depth from what actors bring to it. Books are about words. Movies are about images. The two very rarely overlap.

That doesn’t mean that some books aren’t inherently filmable. Some writers are good at that. Stephen King and Michael Crichton come immediately to mind as writers whose style is very cinematic. Of course, both have experience writing things for the screen, so big surprise there.

Rather than compile a list of books which are unfilmable, I think it is more productive to compile a list of books which are, more or less, filmable. Shorter, punchier books whose action would translate well to the screen. Who in their right mind would want to see Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow on the big screen? It would be a waste. On the other hand (and I’ve said this before) a book like John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War would translate fantastically to the screen. Of course, I’d prefer a six- to eight-hour made-for-TV (preferably Showtime or some other uncensored cable network) miniseries with high production values. Now that would kick ass, and allow the themes of the book to emerge.

But at two, maybe two-and-a-half hours? No. No book is truly filmable at that point. Only if you accept that the movie version is, for all intents and purposes, a completely separate work could that ever be acceptable. If the movie tries to be the book, it won’t work. It must be its own thing. And at that point, it really ceases to be a film of the book, doesn’t it?

I could probably name all the filmable SF books on the fingers of … ok, both hands. And I’m being generous.

Leave the books alone. Let them be what they are. The big screen demands its own unique stories tailor made for that medium. So, rather than telling filmmakers to destroy great works of SF by putting them on the big screen, perhaps it would be better for some visually-oriented filmmaker to team up with the hottest SF writers and create new works for the big screen. Adaptations are always exercises in compromise. I like my SF uncompromising, please.

tags: Books, media, movies, science fiction
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I very rarely talk guitar here, but I figured I might as well. Over on my facebook page today, I noted (happily) that I had just gotten my Taylor guitar back from the shop (truss rod adjustment, new bone nut and saddle to replace the tusq that Taylor puts in all their models). So I get an email asking what model Taylor I have: an 814ce. Then another question: why not a Martin D28?

That’s a tough question to answer. They’re often compared, as they both are built the same way: same types of bracing, same wood types, and same price range. In fact, back in 2003 when I purchased my Taylor, I played a Martin D28 as a comparison. It should be noted that I went in looking for a less expensive model than I went out of the store with, so when I played the 814 and the D28, I had no real intention of buying either.

I played both, but never seriously considered the Martin. Why not? I hated how it felt. It sounded great, but not substantially better than the 814. People keep telling me that the Martin has better low end, but if it does, I don’t hear it. What sold me on the Taylor was playability. The guitar felt wonderful to play. I really did not like the higher action on the Martin. At all. And yes, I know I could have had it adjusted, but Taylor’s specs are pretty close to what I want by default.

Tone-wise, the 814 had the same complexity of tone that the Martin had. Then, of course, I went to the lower-priced models and simply couldn’t justify it. I wanted a guitar that would last me essentially the rest of my life. So I invested in the 814 and haven’t regretted it since. I didn’t try the D28 out very long: just a few minutes. My first impression was bad, and so I didn’t go back. Maybe if I had spent more time with it I would have a different impression.

That said, guitar choice is very subjective, and not just with tone. Comfort is more important than tone in my opinion, and my Taylor is very comfortable. I’m sure others will prefer something different.

tags: music, whatever
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Here’s an article that claims that shorter seasons may be good for science fiction on TV:

Shortened seasons allow for lower production costs, greater freedom for actors to be involved in other projects, and most importantly a tight focus for the writers. Lost has proven with its 16 episode seasons that storylines become tighter and the pacing has a better drive with fewer episodes. While it can seem disappointing for the viewer initially, in the end the pay off is worth it.

I tend to agree. While it would be nice to have SF shows that could survive in the ratings with the standard 22-episode season, it just doesn’t look possible. But I think this is true of most non-proceedural shows on TV. Sure, CSI and Bones and whatever, can come up with 22 stories in a season because they’re largely without an overarching story. There are threads, of course, but no central mystery. (They tried that last year on Bones and the story got trashed due to the writers’ strike). Tightly scripted shows like Lost and Dollhouse and Chuck could certainly cover a lot of narrative ground in 13 episodes.

More than that, shows often show benefits from the threat of cancellation: that was very true of Chuck this year, at least in the second half of the season. Forcing shows to wrap up some (if not all) storylines conserves the show’s momentum. I definitely think this is easier with 13 episodes than 22. With 22, there is an almost undeniable temptation to produce throwaway, one-off episodes that may be fine, but detract from the larger narrative of the story. Writers may love these episodes where they can get away from the grind of the main storyline, but viewers tend to be impatient to get back to the nitty gritty.

Not all shows need the full season, just like not all movies need to be exactly two hours long. Some flexibility is probably best. I think most SF shows should be more like miniseries, with a limited number of episodes that get the job done and have a very clear trajectory. It would probably save money and boost ratings.

tags: Uncategorized
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Quite the stunner. Quite the stunner. Now all those anti-Fox critics on Whedon fan-boards will have to shut up, not that their ire for Fox hasn’t been mostly deserved. Perhaps this is partly the result of some at Fox regretting the pre-emptive cancellation of Joss Whedon’s Firefly, which I’m sure the network execs are kicking themselves over since it’s become one of the most popular (and influential) sci-fi shows of the 2000s. Fox is almost certainly also considering the strong non-traditional viewing venues where Dollhouse is doing surprisingly well: Hulu, iTunes, and DVR. It’s still an open question how the networks will take advantage of those venues for revenue, but it looks like Fox is going to give it a shot.

I’ve been content with Dollhouse. It’s good enough to hold my attention, and I like the morally conflicted subtext, but it was never going to be a popular show. A second season might give it the boost it needs, much like what happened with Joss’s other shows like Buffy and Angel, both of which were weak in their first season. Also, it will help that Fox is likely going to stay out of Joss’s way next season… He’s got 13 episodes to make it count.

In other good news, ABC is renewing Castle, featuring Firefly alum Nathan Fillion. I really like the show, and am happy to see it coming back. The only show left that I watch that is still up in the air is Chuck, which by all reports is likely to get renewed.

Yeah, I’m still a bit stunned about Dollhouse. I absolutely assumed it was going to be cancelled. Interesting.

tags: television
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Earlier this week I decided to install the release candidate for Windows 7, the next version of Microsoft’s OS that is (if reports from the company can be trusted) coming out before the end of the year.

I’m finding it to be … fine. Unlike some, I never had any significant problems with Vista, on which Windows 7 is based. I’m running it on a four-year-old machine (a single core Athlon 64, with only a gig-and-a-half of memory) and it’s running faster than Vista, even with all the bells and whistles turned on. Vista ran the same or slightly faster on my machine than XP, so I’m pretty happy just with that.

And I’ve been running it for five days without a crash. Vista never really crashed on me (honestly, I can only remember one or two crashes since I installed it) and I expected that the RC would crash at least periodically. But it seems very stable to me. Other than a recent spyware issue with Amy’s laptop (grrr) I haven’t had any significant issues with Vista (at least, issues that weren’t caused by my tinkering).

Things that are different: not much, really. I think most of the tune-ups are under the hood. But I’ll say I like the new menu bar at the bottom of the screen much better. I never much liked the long, thin bars of minimized windows. Now they’re square, showing large icons. Hovering shows a window preview. It’s nice, without getting in the way. More interesting is how the menus native to the OS have been streamlined. It took a few minutes to figure it out, but now that I’m used to it I get irritated when I go back to my laptop with Vista.

But my desktop computer has largely been relegated to being a media server, so I was very interested in seeing changes to the Windows Media Center. Much to my pleasure, the Media Center now streams divx and xvid natively to my xbox 360. Very nice. Except … Media Center is still clunky. Microsoft has upgraded its appearence slightly, but it’s still sluggish to load, seems to spend an inordinate amount of time loading thumbnails, and the menu isn’t nearly as responsive as I’d like. I zip around menus pretty quickly, and the interface always seemed just a little bit too slow for me. I’m going to give it some time, though. It’s possible that it will speed up once most of the thumbnails for videos have downloaded, and I haven’t visited all my folders yet.

I was a little disappointed to see that some of my HD files didn’t quite work. Some of my files use a different audio codec that the Media Center doesn’t support, so the video shows in HD (very nice), but they’re silent. Other HD files play fine, even in 5.1 surround, so I’m not sure which codec Media Center doesn’t support. Still, this is moving in the right direction. If the system came up more quickly, and the menus navigated more smoothly, I’d definitely prefer streaming through Media Center than through the Video Library menus (ick).

Setting up media sharing, by the way, was about two clicks. It wasn’t difficult in Vista, but a little cumbersome. Now it’s very easy.

Other things I like: the gadgets are free, now, and not stuck in the docking bar. A lot more functionality has been built into themes, and overall the graphics system seems snappier. It’s a subjective, thing, I know, but menus seem to come up more quickly and respond better.

Yes, I know, all my observations so far are cosmetic. I just haven’t had time to dig into it. So far, though, this is probably the OS Vista should have been. I’ll do more digging this weekend.

tags: technology
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