Books
19.
Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett
Even before news about Pratchett's illness was made public, I had come to cherish each new Discworld book that was released. I have my favorites (Small Gods > Watch books > Von Lipwig books > Death books > Wee Free Men books > Witches books > Rincewind/Wizards books), but they're the only books that I'll buy hardcover, first edition as they come out these days. Grouped differently, my rankings probably change. I like the Von Lipwig books, but if you grouped them with The Truth and Monstrous Regiment as the "Industrial Revolution" series, I would probably rank them lower than the Death books. If you group Small Gods, my favorite Discworld book, with Pyramids, I'd probably rank them below the Watch books. And I suppose the Wee Free Men/Aching books should be considered part of the Witches series, but I don't think they would move very much in my hierarchy of Discworld books.
That's why Snuff hurt so badly. It was a Watch book starring Sam Vimes, and he's arguably my favorite character. But it was a chore to read; there were moments I wanted to put it down and consider whether I had outgrown the Discworld books or if Pratchett's illness had affected his writing to the point that we should part ways so I could leave the memories alone.
I am nothing if not a creature of habit, so I bought Raising Steam with the hope that Snuff was just an aberration and not a first sign. I was relieved by a quarter through the book, well pleased by midway, and very happy by the end. As always, Pratchett asked us to imagine a finer world and examine what "progress" should mean for the wider society.
Pratchett's books have always been infused with a sense of optimism and compassion. Given the choice, most people in Pratchett's works will make the right one. Our protagonists embody pragmatism, innovation, and acceptance; Vetinari, Lu-Tze, and Mustrum Ridicully could all have shut down the steam engine at the core of Raising Steam, but they see the value of "progress." There's a strain of delightful technological utopianism in Raising Steam; I had dark thoughts of massive troop movements that the steam locomotive made possible and the greatly increased war casualties that would result, but the Discworld now is too interconnected for that kind of large scale armed conflict.
To his credit, Pratchett didn't leave the question of assimilation and identity untouched, though he presented the conservative argument about maintaining cultural identity in the face of assimilation weakly. There's a hint of privilege in Pratchett's approach, an assumption that filing away the edges of being a troll, a dwarf, or a golem to adopt the larger identity of an Ankh-Morporkian citizen is the optimal way of life. He wrote, "Trolls in Ankh-Morpork were rarely talked about these days because, amazingly, people barely thought of them as trolls anymore, just as, well, large people. Much the same, although different. And then there was the position of dwarfs, the Ankh-Morpork dwarfs. Dwarfish? Yes, but now on their own terms." Pratchett lays out a story about how a human man and a dwarf woman were going to marry each other, but they weren't concerned about the biological differences because there were plenty of orphans to adopt. It's liberal, and it's commendable in the abstract, but it seems strangely dismissive of the differences in culture that shouldn't be put aside as if they mean nothing.
But that didn't bug me as much as Moist Von Lipwig insisting that his golem horse act like flesh and blood horses in order to satisfy his own guilt about working the golem horse hard or his need to fit the golem horse into how he needs a horse to behave in order to conform to his sense of normalcy and reality.
The story in Raising Steam runs at a fast clip, and it's delightful to see so many characters make cameo appearances throughout the story. Raising Steam might have the largest scope of the Discworld books, in terms of spiritual and physical geography and the number of characters who are impacted by the development of the steam engine. More importantly, it's funny. Unfortunately, the plot seems to be at a loss to how to connect point A to point B, and the denouement seems to come at a rush in the last 30-50 pages, but I felt that it was a fine return to form after Snuff.
Movies
33.
Searching for Sugar Man
VH1 usually re-airs its old
Top 100 Greatest One-Hit Wonders shows when it's desperate for programming, and to those shows' producers' credit, they usually try to show what happened to the artists after their singular hits. The same curiosity about lost history, mysteries, and urban legends drives
Searching for Sugar Man, which was a visually interesting, if somewhat slight documentary. (That it beat
5 Broken Cameras,
The Gatekeepers,
How to Survive a Plague, and
The Invisible War for the Academy Award for Best Documentary seems surprising, given the seriousness of the other documentaries' topics compared to the lightness of
Searching for Sugar Man's thesis.) I don't think it successfully addresses the question at the center of mystery though.
The film posits that the most important question about Sixto Rodriguez is whether he actually killed himself on stage and where he is now, but it doesn't probe the question of why he stopped performing and recording far enough. We are left to infer that Rodriguez, once he was dropped from his label, gave up on the idea of becoming a professional recording artist and became a construction worker and minor Detroit social and political activist for the rest of his life. But it doesn't actually show us Rodriguez's own explanation for why he stopped performing and recording for so long; we can only infer based on what his daughter tells the documentarians. It's possible that they asked Rodriguez and found his answers boring for screen, but it's still an odd choice.
34.
Brother
I was thinking about Bong Joon-ho's (
Barking Dogs Never Bite,
Memories of Murder,
The Host,
Mother) upcoming film
Snowpiercer, which is his first film in English and wondering whether he would have more success than Kim Jee-woo (
The Quiet Family,
The Foul King,
A Tale of Two Sisters,
The Good, The Bad, The Weird,
I Saw The Devil) had with the Arnold Schwarzenegger feature
The Last Stand or Park Chan-wook (
Joint Security Area,
Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance,
Oldboy,
Sympathy for Lady Vengeance,
Thirst) had with
Stoker (which
I had mostly enjoyed). Then I started thinking about how John Woo was the cautionary example of an Asian director who couldn't translate to Hollywood tastes (
Hard Target,
Broken Arrow,
Face/Off,
Mission: Impossible II,
Windtalkers,
Paycheck) along with Ringo Lam (
Maximum Risk,
Simon Sez,
Replicant) and Tsui Hark (
Double Team,
Knock Off). (Maybe Woo, Lam, and Hark all had trouble because they all worked with Jean Claude Van Damme, for some reason.)
All of this ties in with
Brother, Takeshi Kitano's first (and likely only) film for Hollywood, which he has basically disowned due to executive meddling and his troubles with the MPAA over the film's content. Kitano has apparently sworn to never direct another film in the United States. I wish I could say that it was a shame, but I don't see why everyone has to make films in Hollywood in order to be seen as successful.
I had a whole big post about how Brother seemed like a weak echo of Kitano's other films, like Sonatine, but it turns out that
Dan Edwards already catalogued almost all of my criticisms of the film in 2001, so I'll just direct you to read that.
35.
Oblivion
It's all dirt. As vast as the cinematic landscape in Oblivion is, it's all dirt. A destroyed stadium where Tom Cruise delivered a cringe-worthy monologue about the final Super Bowl? Dirt. The Empire State Building? Dirt. The caves where the Scavs seek refuge? Dirt. The dirt corrupts Cruise's Jack Harper; the dirtier his uniform gets, the more he learns about the truth of the world, and the harder it is for him to stay with his communications officer Victoria, played by Andrea Riseborough, in the gleaming, glass-windowed tower standing high above the dirt.
You can see the homages from a mile away. Morgan Freeman plays his best Laurence Fishburne as Morpheus. The Tet are probably a close cousin of the aliens from
Independence Day. The film's first big twist comes straight from
I Am Legend, the second big from
Moon. The recovered wife from
Solaris.
The film treats Victoria's and Jack's everyday life to be much more interesting than it actually is. We're invited to give our attention to the film during these moments with plays subtle (Vika seems a bit suspiciously robotic, and why does the Tet go offline) and not so subtle (here, have some explosions, and maybe some bare backs and nudity carefully covered by shadows and steam as if this were a comic, which isn't far from the writer/director's graphic novel that serves as the film's source material).
When the film's first big twist was revealed, it felt like a cheat, as if the evidence that the film had presented to us had the film playing unfairly.
I'd say more about Olga Kurylenko's performance except there's not much of a performance here at all. The film literally gives her nothing to do; it places a gun in her hand at one point, but her moment of glory is robbed. Her character's ultimate destiny is to be a single mother. And what does she mean when she says that Andrew Wyeth's
Christina's World reminds her of home? It was as cringe-worthy as Cruise's monologue about the final Super Bowl.
The film wasn't as dull as dirt (and dirt is fairly interesting), but I wish the film gotten itself a little dirtier with its characterization.