Monsters

Six years ago, a NASA space probe returned to Earth, carrying with it alien life. When it crash landed in northern Mexico, and alien life forms spread throughout the country, prompting United States and Mexican authorities to quarantine the region to contain their spread. When a photographer is asked to bring his employer's daughter back to the United States, they have to travel through the infected zone to reach safety. The film is a stunning, beautiful, and understated movie that surprised me all the way through to the credits.

Recently released to DVD, Monsters is a film that I've been wanting to see for a little while now: it was on a limited circuit in theaters, and on demand, and it wasn't until its recent release that I've been able to see it. The wait was certainly worth it: Monsters is easily one of the best science fiction films to have been released in 2010, and easily ranks amongst some of my favorite films in the genre, such as Moon, District 9 and Alien.

What's even more surprising here is that Monsters, directed by Gareth Edwards, was an exceptionally cheap film to make, coming in around $500,000, cheaper than Moon at $5 million and District 9 at $29 million, by a long shot. Like some of its fellow low-budget counterparts, the strength here doesn't lie with known stars or even elaborate sets, but is exemplified by its story and themes, elements that most likely couldn't have shone through to the extent that they did in any other way.

Like Alien or even Jaws, Monsters does more with less - a lot less - The aliens that we see are only seen at rare points in the film. Watching promotional trailers for this, it's easy to see how this type of film could have been seen as a monster flick - the plot certainly allows for something along those lines (and it could be an option at some point, certainly) - but this film isn't really about the aliens that have landed: this film is, at its heart a love story with a political message within it. Low budgets certainly don't equal quality film and storylines, but Monsters hits both the quality visual appearance, and quality storyline to make this something special. Furthermore, this is a science fiction film where the film isn't driven by the strange science fiction things in the foreground, but a human story within speculative fiction constraints that sets the boundaries for how the story plays out.

The idea of the United States constructing a wall to hold out aliens has a clear and pointed political message behind it, particularly relating to immigration from Mexico into the US. Much like District 9 was about immigration, the message comes off as a little heavy-handed at points, the filmmaker making it clear what he thinks about the situation. Immigration is a multifaceted issue, coming across as a threat to be contained, or something with an unseen or hidden beauty that requires the right timing and placement to be seen.

When it comes to the other element of the story the relationship between Andrew, a photojournalist and Samantha, the daughter of his editor, the film gets a little more clunky. There's something to be said for an offbeat nature to Andrew's character as someone who's cynical and fairly unlikable, but the film does very little to expand the characters or provide them with any measure of depth. The story is elementary: boy and girl meet, boy likes girl, girl is engaged and eventually likes him. That being said, the story works for what it is, and while it's uneven, it doesn't tank the movie like it should have.

Filmwise, the movie is gorgeous. I can't help but wonder if Edwards (who directed the film and worked as the cinematographer) has experience as a photographer, because there's a keen eye towards the visual element of the film, with the focus blurring and focusing appropriately, with the camera lingering on the right scenes, and generally not feeling as if the film is driven by the director, but along for the ride as the two characters wander up through Mexico. My only complaint is that when nightfall comes, it's just a bit too dark, with it hard to see what's going on. Coupled with Jon Hopkin's mesmerizing soundtrack, the film is quiet but vibrant at the same time.

Monsters is an excellent film with a quality eye behind the camera, with wonderful colors and composition, with a simple, yet powerful story that ties it all together. It's a quiet, understated and interesting film, one of the best of 2010, and an excellent example of the genre itself.

The Dervish House

Last year, I picked up Ian McDonald's fantastic science fiction novel River of Gods and loved his take on an India of the future. With his latest book, The Dervish House, McDonald relocates to Turkey of 2027. Rarely do I come across a book that absolutely floors me, and where River of Gods really impressed me, The Dervish House completely bowled me over with its interconnecting storylines, fantastic prose and wonderful characters.

Set in Istanbul, the book starts off with a literal bang as a suicide bomber blows her head off. The only casualty, the bomber seems to have failed, and the attack starts off a week that sees a heat wave over the city. There are five separate story lines to keep track of throughout the book: Can, a young boy with a heart condition who's treatment leaves him deafened and sequestered away at home, Georgios Ferentinou, a retired professor of experimental economics, who sees danger in the growing nanotechnology revolution, Ayşe, an arts dealer set off on a quest to find a legendary Mellified Man, Yasar Ceylan, a businessman working to build a start-up nanotech firm that has the potential to revolutionize civilization and Necdet, a former drug addict who sees a woman blow her head off and begins having strange visions around him. Together, these stories interlock over the course of a week.

The principle innovation here in McDonald's world is nanotechnology (where in River of Gods, it was Artificial Intelligences), and while this is clearly a futuristic world, it remains firmly grounded in what's likely one of the more realistic science fiction stories that I've read thus far: the rules are still the same. Throughout, McDonald covers a lot of territory: grey goo scenarios, market manipulation, fundamentalism and mysteries. Istanbul, it would seem, is the perfect location for such a story, with an ancient history behind it, helping to set up a juxtaposition between the future and the past.

In particular, I was blown away by the vivid nature of the book. Like his other book, I had to take my time with this, getting into the right mindset, and absorbing the story as it came along. The payoff is incredible: entire sections come across fully realized, and I couldn't help but wonder what a film adaptation would look like (and I would absolutely love to see this film translated into a motion picture someday). While it’s dense and occasionally wanders (there are a couple of plot points that help to support, but only just) the book is rich in detail and in its prose. There are only a couple of books out there that I've loved for the same reasons: Suzanne Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell comes to mind, as does J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, and Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. Comparing these books is a non-starter (I’m not saying that this is better or worse than any of those), but coming away from this story left me with a similar impression: I got quite a bit out of this book, on all levels.

Of all the stories that the book goes through, the two that hit me the most was Can and Ayşe’s own story arcs. Can, armed with a modular robotic toy that can take several shapes (Bird, Snake, Rat and Monkey), fancies himself as a Boy Detective, and from the safety of his home, he attempts to piece together the bombing that his witnessed through his robot, uncovering clues and going after Necdet after the man is kidnapped. This storyline shone above all, and Can is possibly catapulted himself to become one of my favorite fictional characters – masterfully crafted and characterized, McDonald does everything right with his storyline, capturing the enthusiasm, optimism and creativity of a young boy with an impressive imagination.

Ayşe’s storyline is also an impressive one, as she’s tasked with tracking down a Mellified Man – a mummy preserved in honey, used for healing – This is a real legend, but it’s unclear as to whether there’s actually any basis in truth for it. Ayşe takes us throughout the city and through parts of its history on her search, reminding me a little of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, at points, abit one where the characters work off the books and with fewer Nazis.

The other storylines are all important, on a number of locations, but none struck me quite the same way as the aforementioned do. But, as a whole, the weave together an interesting book that is rooted in reality, and gets a lot of things dead on in conceptualization, particularly when it comes to fundamentalism and terrorism. McDonald appears to realize that the conflict between fundamentalism and a liberal society are political issues that will continue onwards far into the future, but also understands the downsides of terrorism: killing people typically turns people against one’s cause, and the world presented here seems a bit more peaceful with that realization, although the goals might still be in the same place. One of the plots involves the distribution of Nano-agents to a larger population through gas pipelines, agents that will effectively turn people into fundamentalists. It’s a frightening scenario, one that brings up some questions: can faith be imbued in someone artificially? The book doesn't quite go on to use that more than a plot point, but its existence that is just hinted on is interesting, and McDonald steers clear of delving too much into the theoretical, leaving that up to the readers and the character’s own speculations.

At the end of the book, I was reluctant to put it away on the shelf: The Dervish House was easily one of the best books that I’ve read in the past year, up there with last year’s favorite reads: The City and The City by China Mieville, and Horns by Joe Hill. If I’d finished a month earlier, it would have been a grand way to round out 2010. Instead, it’s set an incredibly high bar for 2011 - not a bad way to start the year.

The Decemberists' The King is Dead

"Beneath this bold and brilliant sun!," sings Colin Meloy in the opening track of The Decemberist's latest album, The King is Dead. It's a surprisingly upbeat and bright feel for what typically comes from the group. Their last couple of releases, such as The Crane Wife, had dead Civil War soldiers, heartbroken lovers and mass murderers throughout the tracks, while The Hazards of Love was a gloriously dark affair throughout, with a sound to match. The King Is Dead, however, has a far more upbeat and sunny disposition.

The King is Dead is a fantastic collection of tracks from the group, one that breaks out of some of the more intense elements of their recent work, which saw complicated stories and themes throughout, and gives them a chance to scatter a little and enjoy themselves. This is a fun album, from the opening track Don't Carry It All to Rox In The Box to the fantastic Down By The Water and This Is Why We Fight. Tracks such as June Hymn and Dear Avery both have their own nostalgic, '70s feel to them that reminds me the most of Gordon Lightfoot and other folk-singers from the same point in time.

The end result is a different album than I'm largely used to from the group, reminding me the most of their collection of singles, Always The Bridesmaid from a couple years ago, to Picaresque from 2005. But, where the group had a really eclectic sound from their earliest albums, they've taken the tone and feel of their later efforts and combined this with what's truely made the group a great one: their focus on the songs, lyrics and style. Their strange sound that they started with was one that I've never been a huge fan of, and it was really only with 'The Crane Wife' that I was able to get into their music and enjoy the stronger parts of what they've released, and most of everything since then.

Albums such as The Crane Wife and The Hazards of Love both blew me away with their overarching storytelling (The Hazards of Love moreso), but The King is Dead comes as a welcome change in style, at least for now. The newer sound is excellent, and the group feels like it is exploring some of their deeper roots and are working on material that they weren't able to do for a while. It's refreshing, as is the sound and tone of the entire album, and it's an album that I'll be listening to for months as spring comes to Vermont. I can't think of a better album to drive to when the temperatures begin to rise and summer returns.

Brave New Worlds

John Joseph Adams has distinguished himself in the past with outstanding speculative fiction anthologies, from Wastelands to The Living Dead and others. His latest volume, Brave New Worlds, is perhaps one of the finest sets of short fiction that I've ever read, with a stunning table of contents and authors to tell their stories of oppression.

Brave New Worlds is a complete turnaround from Wastelands, an anthology that looks at humanity after the demise of civilization. Here, the focus is on societies where government has not only remained, but strengthened to the point where the people themselves become the enemies of the state. It's an incredibly frightening future, and one that feels far more relevant to today's world than most works. The argument between Republicanism and Federalism is a familiar one to anybody who has tuned into the news over the past couple of years.

Indeed, this anthology came to me at a time of personal political crisis. The past couple of years have been ones of discussion, learning and thinking about the differences in political parties, and what these sorts of things mean at the end of day and down the road. The idea of an overly strong state that impinges upon the rights of its citizens is something that is undesirable to me, and what our country represents. Numerous actions taken by the government have had a speculative-fiction feel to it, such as the detainees in Guantanamo Bay and the kill order against a radical cleric overseas, to the authority of the Transportation Security Administration following some terrorist attacks. It is a frightening future, but one that also needs to be balanced against the idea of a libertarian world where little order or government control exists to keep people from killing or harming one another. As such, Brave New Worlds is scary much in the same way that Wastelands (of what I've read and heard of it) was scary: it exists at the other extreme end of the political spectrum.

There are a good number of fantastic stories here. The anthology starts off with Shirley Jackson's classic story The Lottery and continues to tell a great number of tales such as S.K. Gilbow's Red Card, where people are assigned by their state randomly to kill lawbreakers, Ten With A Flag by Joseph Paul Haines that sees citizens given rankings based on their potential and Geriatric Ward by Orson Scott Card, which sees people who have vastly accelerated life spans. One of my absolute favorites is Jordan's Waterhammer by Joe Mastroianni, a tale of miners valued only as tools. Many of the stories here were fairly new to me: I'd either heard of them by reputation or read them once long ago, while there were also a fair number of stories that I have read before, such as Carrie Vaughn's Amaryllis (published on Adam's online science fiction magazine Lightspeed), Philip K. Dick's Minority Report and Paolo Bacigalupi's disturbing Pop Squad. There are few of the stories that I didn't get into, such as The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin and O Happy Day! by Geoff Ryman, simply not suiting my own tastes for any number of reasons, but these were few and far between.

What impressed me even more than the excellent lineup of stories and authors was that the anthology didn't feel repetitive. There are plenty of short stories and novellas that fall into the dystopian category, but one could have easily told story after story of an intrepid citizen standing up and fighting the power, so to speak. That certainly happens, in their own ways, but there's a broad spectrum of stories to be told. Jordan's Waterhammer is a story that I expected to see more often in the anthology, but stories such as Amaryllis, The Things that Make Me Weak and Strange Get Engineered Away (Cory Doctorow) and the funny Civilization by Vylar Kaftan (a choose your own adventure style story) shows a diversity in the story types, but also the morals and themes behind the stories. While Brave New Worlds is scary, it goes out of its way to demonstrate the numerous ways in which fascism can manifest itself in society, in any location.

One of my favorite stories here was Philip K. Dick’s Minority Report, which I first read in the theater waiting for the movie to begin. Of all the dystopian stories that I can think of, the story and the film both demonstrate the core themes for any type of dystopian story: which is the greater evil, protecting the people from themselves, or allowing them to come to greater harm?

One particularly striking story that helped define the anthology was Tobias Buckell's story, Resistance, on an asteroid colony that adopted techno-democracy, where everybody can vote on every decision. When the time required to vote becomes to much, their voting habits are taken over by a computer, which in turn creates a leader for them, based on their desires. The story demonstrated to me that in all cases, governance is the product of we the people. Society can certainly back the wrong people, as history has seen from time to time, with figures such as Hitler, Stalin or Mussolini, but rather than a universal evil, supporters remain, for whatever reason: fear, threads, naïveté or blind obedience. Despite the uproar online over the TSA screening procedures enacted around the holiday period, a majority of Americans supported them.

Brave New Worlds isn't a book that's appealing because I see some imminent threat of a governmental implosion or change (although some might view it that way), it is appealing because it recognizes and points out that fascism is a continual threat to society from a particular political philosophy of a strong state, while the opposite philosophy spells danger in much the same way - presumably what Wastelands will tell a reader. The threat is present within us all, through our overreactions and our indifference to the world around us, and for that, I think Brave New Worlds presents us with a stunning cautionary group of stories that shows the limits of what people will tolerate. As it stands, it remains an exceedingly relevant and poignant book that should be an essential addition to any speculative fiction fan's personal library.

The best Music of 2010

I've largely fallen out of the music blogging stuff that I once was heavily engaged in. Too much writing, not nearly enough reward, and it got to a point where it interfered with other projects that I've wanted to do, and the things that I write about when it comes to music are fewer and further between. I've not stopped listening to music, however, and there's been a number of really good albums released this year. Here's what I liked the most.

Kirby Krackle, E for Everyone

Kirby Krackle was a discovery that I made earlier this year via a musician friend of mine, John Anealio, and it's easy to bill these guys as some of the best all around Geek rockers out there. With their prior self-titled album, they've got an excellent backlog of songs that run the line from comic books (There's a lot here - Iron Man, Green Lantern, Wolverine, Great Lakes Avengers and more) to zombies (what self-respecting geek musician doesn't have a song about zombies?) to things like conventions and geek romance.

E for Everyone is an album that hits all the basic, rich chords, combined with lyrics that I find impossible not to sing along with loudly in the car. The set is a fun one, and I hope to hear more from them at some point in the near future.

Ray LaMontagne, God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise

Ray LaMontagne is a long favorite of mine from college, and his latest album hasn't disappointed as he's changed up his style over the past couple of years. This latest outing is one that carries with it a particular country style with some of the songs, and looks to the virtues of a simpler, uncomplicated existence. The best song on the album is easily Beg Steal Or Borrow with its steady beat, perfect sound and breezy feel that makes me perk up a bit whenever I hear it on the radio.

LaMontagne has kept up with a good habit of not repeating his successes, nor does he change so drastically that his new music is something totally unexpected. God Willin' is an album that retains the best of his past, and changes as needed, and almost always for the better. While the album hasn't quite topped Gossip in the Grain, it's an excellent work by an excellent musician.

Goodtimes Goodtimes, Goodtimes Goodtimes

Franc, of Goodtimes Goodtimes, has been on a roll lately. He's just released a second music video from this album for 'Magic Hour' (Fortune Seller Song is the other, both excellent). Glue, the first album from Goodtimes Goodtimes, was a favorite of mine, but it absolutely pales in comparison to this self-titled album that's just been released. It's almost as if a filter has been removed and Franc's been unleashed. The music is polished, rich and textured, and the songs are superb. Each song on this album is excellent, strong and together, allow for a great album.

Grace Potter & The Nocturnals, Grace Potter And The Nocturnals

Grace Potter & The Nocturnals starts off with a bang with their reworked version of Paris (Ooh La La). It's a blast of energy that Grace has been known for on stage, and it's a good thing to see retained in their latest (and largest to date), self-titled album. The album's not their best: there's a certain flavor that seems to have been lost from their original work, but the band has retained their fantastic songwriting skills, new sounds and still a great energy and vibe that work with Grace's voice wonderfully.

Anais Mitchell feat. Justin Vernon, Ani DiFranco, Greg Brown, The Haden Triplets and Ben Knox Miller, Hadestown

I've described this album as a indie-folk retelling of the myth of Orpheus set in a post-apocalyptic fiefdom. Yep. It's also completely fantastic, an upgraded version of a production that Anais Mitchell worked on a couple of years ago. Hadestown is a rocking good time: it's akin to a stage soundtrack, with various (well known) singers taking on different characters. Justin Vernon (aka, Bon Iver) takes part, and we follow a great story of romance, betrayal, greed and revenge. Musically, this album is diverse, rich and fascinating, and every time I listen to the tracks, I'm intensely reminded of Cherie Priest's novel Boneshaker, with it's dark atmosphere, twisted characters and foreboding surroundings.

Jed Whedon and the Willing, History of Forgotten Things

Whedon is a name that all geeks should know. Not only the name of Joss (who did Firefly, Dollhouse and Buffy) or Zack (Screenwriter for Fringe, Deadwood, and Dr. Horrible), but Jed, for his work on not only Dr. Horrible, but for his fantastic History of Forgotten Things, which is easily one of my top favorites of the year. This well composed alternative-pop album is one that is both smooth and ethereal. There's a real SF/F feel to the album as well: Drones was used in the show Dollhouse (as well as Remains, a single that he's released), as well as Last Man and Ancestors. Is this music that we'll see more of in the future? I hope so.

Holy Fiction, Hours from It

Hours From It is a product of the west, and it feels like it. This was an unexpected album from Holy Fiction, and one that I completely fell in love with after a single listen. It's been on a regular rotation while I take long car rides, and it's perfect for blasting down the roads of Vermont. Each song has a fantastic beat and sound that's been based off of that, one that's not too overpowering. Songs like Exit demonstrate the real shifts capable from the musicians, and where Iron Eyes gives me a nostalgic feel for cross-country trips that I've taken in the past. The album's single downside is its length: it's far too short, and I'm chomping at the bit for more.

Carbon Leaf, How The West Was Vol. 1

One of my all-time favorite bands is Carbon Leaf, and as they've left the major record label Vanguard, they've begun to rework how they release music and tour around the country. I'm sad to have missed them this year, but I'm hopeful that I'll see them again in the state at some point in the future. How the West Was... Vol. 1 is the first of their new strategy to record and release music as an independent group. This short effort is a fun one with songs that I've wanted to hear on a record for a while, such as Native America. The album feels very much like a classic Carbon Leaf record, and it feels far more like an honest look at their songwriting, without the polish and production that's typically required of a major record. Their older stuff is great, and this is a great addition to it.

Hans Zimmer, Inception (Music from the Motion Picture)

This list isn't limited to bands. As such, Hans Zimmer's Inception soundtrack deserves some high praise. I loved the movie, and it's easily one of the best Science Fiction films that I've seen in a very long time, and that comes in no small part as a result of the soundtrack. The music compliments the film nicely, with a number of tracks, such as Half Remembered Dream, We Built Our Own World and Old Souls resonating with the emotional parts of the film, while Dream Is Collapsing, and Mombasa ratcheting up the tension where needed. The album's something I've listened to dozens of times, and it's a constant companion when I'm writing.

Ferraby Lionheart, The Jack Of Hearts

This album by Ferraby Lionheart is one that I'm somewhat split on. Some of the songs are ones that I'm not all that fond of. But the other half of the album is one that is just absolutely stunning: tracks such as Harry & Bess are ones that retain a nostalgic beat that feels like it wouldn't be out of place in the 1950s, and when the chorus kicks in, it's absolutely one of the best songs that I've ever listened to. There's other good ones here too: Arkansas and Sweet Tanzini retain a great Lionheart sound, and on the whole, it's a good, solid follow up to his first album.

Laura Veirs, July Flame

This album was one that I first heard about while driving home from Pennsylvania. Laura Veirs was an artist that I'd heard of, but hadn't listened to extensively - I'd actually seen her in person, opening for The Decemberists. I remember being unimpressed. July Flame, however, is a very good reintroduction to her, and I've found that this is a fantastic indie-rock album. Viers has a great voice and some great songwriting skills here, and July Flame is a quirky, fun listen.

Fictionist, Lasting Echo

Lasting Echo feels like something out of the 1970s, from the front cover of the album to the science fiction nature that some of the songs take on. This was a fun album to listen to, and moreover, it feels ... cool. Fictionist's songs are laid back, interesting and free: the song Human Wings exemplifies this, while Blue Eyed Universe is a neat little song that has taken to space with its music video. The sounds here are well balanced between the vocals and guitar work, which lends itself very well to my ears.

Mumford and Sons, Sigh No More

Recommendations from friends are the best sorts: my friend Laura pointed out Mumford and Sons to me, and it's clear that this album is going to land them on the map. With a short tour of sold out dates, the proof is in the pudding that they'll be growing a bit. Songs like The Cave, Roll Away Your Stone and White Blank Page bring in the energy that works well with their vocals. These guys sound like they're off to a great start. Can't wait to see how they turn out a couple albums from now. In the meantime, Sigh No More will have to do.

Josh Ritter, So Runs The World Away

Josh Ritter's latest album is a stunning piece of work, with some of my absolute favorite songs by him to date. The tone is set with Curtains, an instrumental, before launching into a set of songs that are rife with stories of mummies, killers, explorers and train rides. Ritter's songs are absolutely fantastic, with a rich blend of instrumental wonder and lyrical delights through out. My favorite songs off of this album are easily The Curse, about a mummy who returns to life, and a Southern Pacifica, for its smooth, train travelling song, Rattling Locks, with its harsh edges and Folk Bloodbath, the story of a, well, folk bloodbath. I'm desperately hoping that the band will be back in the area at some point soon - their live act is even better.

The Apples In Stereo, Travellers In Space And Time

For a bit of fun, listen to Travellers in Time and Space, an album that I came across while looking up songs for my geek music playlist. The Apples in Stereo have a slick synth-pop sound and feel that is bubbling with energy and enthusiasm. Songs like Dream About The Future, Strange Solar System and C.P.U. all feel very geeky with their titles and subject matter, and feel full of movement and bright sound that is both over the top and a bit like Electric Light Orchestra.

Cary Brothers, Under Control

Cary Brothers wrote one of my all time favorite albums: Who You Are, which I discovered in college. While Under Control doesn't quite live up to the same heights for me, it's still a very good album. Brothers has refined his sound during the break, and we're left with a lot of the great parts of his older work, along with an even better sound. Ghost Town, Break Off The Bough and Someday rank as my favorites off of this track, and there's a nice blend of fast/fun and softer/serious songs across the eleven tracks. I can't wait to see what he comes up with next.

This year felt like a good year for music, and at points, I feel like I've not listened to as much new music as I have in the past. Half of the albums that I listened to this year were from bands that I've liked enough to listen to again, while another half were new discoveries, recommendations and stumbled upon records that I'd never heard of before. I'm happy with that, and if you're looking for something to listen to that's reasonably new, these albums are all ones that I highly recommend.

Dreadnought, Cherie Priest

It’s hard to mention the term Steampunk without also mentioning Cherie Priest’s Clockwork Century series, an alternate history of the United States, featuring all of the bells and whistles that comes with the territory. The first novel, Boneshaker, was well received, as was the short novella, Clementine, set shortly after the events of the first book, while the latest entry in the series (there are two more planned), Dreadnought, picks up the story across the country and helps to flesh out Priest’s strange alternate world. An interesting follow-up to Boneshaker, Dreadnought never quite reaches the same heights that its predecessor reached, nor does it quite feel as unique. As such, Priest brings out new elements to the Civil War only hinted at in the previous books, and tells a fun story, one that is sure to be popular with the steampunk crowd.

Following Mercy Lynch, a nurse stationed in a confederate war hospital in Virginia, Dreadnought is set in the heart of the lengthened American Civil War. Lynch is summoned away by her father, Jeremiah Swakhammer, (careful readers will remember the name from Boneshaker). What happens next is a journey for Lynch that she could never have expected. An alternate title for this book could easily have been Airships, Barges and Locomotives, for her journey across the country covers not only ground, but the staples of the steampunk movement. Along the way, a number of storylines begin to form and collide as the war effort goes forward. A Texas Ranger is on the hunt for a missing Mexican army, while a Union scientist harbors a hidden and deadly cargo onboard the Dreadnought, a Union train bound for the west on a mysterious mission. As Lynch finds herself at the center of the conflict, we’re treated to a spectacle of action and movement as she makes her way across the continent to her dying father.

At points, Dreadnought is very good, particularly once things get moving west, when the titular Dreadnought becomes the main setting and as story elements begin to collide. Each storyline has their own main elements running forward and Priest has constructed a fascinating tale of the war without being set in the war, further telling the story of two sides that fail to quit fighting.

At the same time, however, Dreadnought proved to be a frustrating read as exposition took over in the beginning and end, and as the story seemed to merely drift along the rail road tracks to each major scene, with a host of forgettable characters to fill in the blanks. Where Boneshaker left me unable to put the book down, Dreadnought seems to be the sophomore slump (being the second full novel in the series, not the author’s second novel or story within The Clockwork Century) in the series.

Part of this might stem from the very nature of the book, spread out over a vast continent, with almost too much to look at: there’s a short, tantalizing section on the actions of the Civil War, then onto the fragmented nature of the country, then the native Americans, mad scientists, Texas Rangers and zombies. As a result, the main action takes its time to gather momentum. But, when it does, the book (forgive me) picks up steam and becomes an engrossing read that lives up to the best elements of its predecessors before ending quietly with a quick link to Boneshaker that serves well as an epilogue.

Steampunk has hit some major counter arguments lately from a couple of authors, making some pointed arguments that The Clockwork Century, nor Dreadnought are able to adequately answer. The main point that kept running through my mind during all of the stories was how the Civil War would be approached, and after reading through Dreadnought, it seems that there’s a certain level of the Southern inevitable cause that seems to have survived since the 1870s when it first originated: the South was destined to lose, but it fought the better fight. Thrust into the heat of the Civil War, the book goes in this direction, and as a historian, it’s a little frustrating to see such a revisionist vision come out. (This isn’t to say that Mrs. Priest is a diehard revisionist: just that her book seems to go in that direction)

Whatever the historical feelings are when it comes to this story, Charles Stross brings up a very good point with his own rant about Steampunk: namely that the genre seems far too rosy and nostalgic for the staples of Steampunk: the corsets, the goggles, brass and strange trappings that characterize the movement. Here, the south seems to have largely given up an element of bloody racism, lone women are free to run around the country largely without incident, and there’s really no feeling of the absolute brutality and dark nature that characterized this era of history. While Stross’s arguments miss elements of how history played out in the United States, there are still some relevant points. I would rather have this rather fantastic, romanticized past rather than the actual one, but when compared to our true past, this version feels somewhat hollow.

Keeping in mind that this is an element of historical fiction, aimed towards entertainment, these arguments are somewhat petty in and of themselves: there is no expectation of historical accuracy, especially when there is talk of a zombie army running around Utah, eating the Mormons who have settled there, but it feels like there is an incredible opportunity missed by not setting a story that looks to something besides a romantic version of the past. The reasons for not doing so are pretty clear: when marketing a product that you want to sell, you don’t really want to highlight all of the nasty or dirty elements, much as Apple doesn’t want to highlight the group of Foxxconn workers who committed suicide while building the ever popular iProducts that have become so common play. However, by ignoring these elements, Priest’s vision of steampunk is far more polished and perfect, which calls attention to itself.  But, that’s okay.

Steampunk is a genre that I’ve sought to avoid as much as possible, but Priest’s alternative vision in Dreadnought, no matter how polished, is a fun and exciting story that stands up well within her series, and it gives me no small amount of hope that even with a flood of material, there are still some authors who strive to tell a good story, rather than simply jumping on the bandwagon to make a quick buck off of an audience who’s looking the right way at the right time. Dreadnought is a good book – not a great one – that holds no pretense as to what it is supposed to be, and doesn’t overstep its bounds. For that reason alone, it’s worth picking up and reading. Steampunk itself might be a flawed creation, but so long as Priest stands at the front, I have an amount of faith that there will still be some good stories to be told within it.

The Walking Dead

The striking thing that I noticed about The Walking Dead's first episode, 'Days Gone By' is the stark, minimal feel to a post-Zombie world. There's no music, just the footsteps, birdcalls and buzzing of flies that hang in the air as the action moves forward. The TV show, which has thus far broken all viewer records for the host channel AMC, seemed like an almost guaranteed hit for the channel. The reasons for the success extend beyond the inclusion of zombies, but because the show is something that resonates with a modern audience.

Zombies have been on the rise in recent years: major film productions have been popular, such as 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, (And of course, the George Romero films that have come out) in addition to books such as Cherie Priest’s Boneshaker, World War Z (And The Zombie Survival Guide, both by Max Brooks) John Joseph Adam's Zombie anthologies, and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, by Seth Grahame-Smith (and Jane Austin), with The Walking Dead remaining popular in print form, and now jumping mediums to the small screen, where it seems like it’s well suited for television.

As an adaptation goes, The Walking Dead is off to a decent start. Rather than giving into the impulse to make a show that was high on action and rapid pacing, the show’s creators have gone in the opposite direction: Days Gone By, much like the comic, is paced slowly, and the end result is a fairly slow episode: in any other context, I would have found the show fairly boring – there’s plenty of suspense, but one major element (the whereabouts and wellbeing of Grime’s family) is revealed fairly early on. The first major encounter with a mass of the undead doesn’t happen until the end of the episode, in a particularly frightening scene as Grimes and his horse are surrounded.

As it stands, The Walking Dead is possibly one of the better takes on the zombie genre thus far: the message and point of the show isn’t about the undead themselves, but the world around the survivors. Zombies stories have been rife with allegory, and both print and motion picture versions do exactly that.

A standout moment in Sunday’s episode saw some discussion as to how people hadn’t prepared for the events that transpired. Given the political climate present in the country at the moment, it’s not a hard leap to imagine. Zombie fiction tends to lend itself well to a libertarian dream of a more down to earth rule of law, without the worries of infrastructure and government, living on one’s own wits and instructs. Then there’s the guns.

The decline of the U.S. economy is something that has been at the forefront of political and economic news for almost two years, and I can’t help but wonder if shows such as Jericho (cancelled after a season and revived, only to be cancelled again) would have better succeeded if it had aired just a couple of years later. Other shows that have reflected the political feelings of the day have done well critically, such as SyFy’s Battlestar Galactica, HBO’s True Blood or Fox’s 24. While this isn’t a singular contributing factor, relevancy is something that a public audience will relate and respond to.

Here, amongst the shambling zombies, there’s a good set of themes that the series seems to have picked up on and incorporated into its storylines. In addition to the rise in popularity of the zombies themselves, The Walking Dead has an exceptionally bright future. Indeed, it’s already been renewed for a second season to follow up the first six episodes that compose the first season.

While the zombie bandwagon has been an easy thing to jump on - the popularity is only going to peak from this point on - The Walking Dead is a good example of both an adaptation and of the use of zombies. The original comic book seems to have translated very well, with creators understanding the overall picture and changes needed for the small screen. Like any bandwagon, there have been a number of stories, films and comics that have included zombies to some extent, with widely varying levels of quality. The focus, for some of the best stories, it seems, should be not on the zombies themselves, but on the people that they effect. While I've tried to avoid fanboying the craze, the show offers a quality story, rather than gimmicks to help it succeed.

Beyond the successes of a zombie show (the first that I’m aware of), the introduction of a well executed and received genre show is a very good thing, especially in the middle of a television season that has been lacking. The Walking Dead is looking to be a compelling and interesting drama. Thus far, it looks like it’s lining up to do just that.

Sherlock

Sherlock Holmes seems to be all the rage at the moment. A major studio film has been released, an anthology by John Joseph Adams, The Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes has been published, and one of Fox's top shows, House, MD, has a number of connections to Arthur Conan Doyle's famed detective and sidekick. There's a new version out, one that's possibly the best version that I've yet to see: Steven Moffat's Sherlock.

Set in contemporary London, the story of Sherlock Holmes has been reset to exist in the modern day. The titular Sherlock Holmes (brilliantly acted by Benedict Cumberbatch) is a self described sociopath, and a consultant for the London police. He's joined by John Watson (also brilliantly acted by Martin Freeman - who's also portraying Bilbo Baggins in the upcoming adaptation of The Hobbit), an Afghanistan war veteran who rooms with the troubled detective. The series, composed of three hour and a half long episodes, are amongst some of the best that I've yet to see in television. Where Hugh Laurie's House has allowed for a good update of the character, Cumberbatch's returns straight to the subject matter of crime and puzzles. Fortunately, there is a second series planned, although with Freeman's work on The Hobbit in a year, it would be interesting to see if there's an impact.

The first episode, 'A Study in Pink' sees the meeting of Watson and Holmes amongst a rash of suicides in London as several people are found dead after taking a poisoned pill. As the two get used to one another, Holmes deduces that a single person is responsible for the murders, and works to track down their elusive prey. The second episode, 'The Blind Banker', sees a break in at a major bank, where nothing has been taken, but with a symbol spray painted to the wall of a secured office. As the two investigate, they move further into a world of international organized crime and Chinese gangsters. The last episode, 'The Great Game', sees Holmes locked in a psychological battle with his nemesis, Moriarty, with a series of challenges and crimes to solve in an ever shorter time period.

It's worth noting once again that Benedict Cumberbatch owns Sherlock Holmes. His portrayal of the character is spot on, with more similarities to the modern adaptations of Laurie and Downey's own takes on the character, where he's psychologically tuned, observant, and socially clueless. Cumberbatch nails every element of his character, even if he looks more like Neil Gaiman in my own mind than what I've envisioned Holmes to be.

It's curious that Holmes has popped up in a number of places lately. The stories have been incredibly popular throughout their publication history - Holmes is the most adapted character, ever - but it seems like he's popped up in a number of high profile areas lately. Sherlock did incredibly well on the BBC; a second series has been commissioned (and after the ending of Series 1, it's needed!), while the film has spawned a sequel, which is due out in the next year or so. At the same time, House, MD, is well into its seventh year. Personally, I'm hoping that we'll see a House hallucination of the famed detective at some point.

I think Holmes works well with any time period that he exists in. Doubtlessly, we'll see future adaptations of the character (I wonder how many science fiction stories have included him thus far), because the things that make him tick are really timeless. It's not the technology, the settings or backgrounds of Holmes, but the awareness of observation and superior cognition that he displays that fits everywhere. Add in a good look at the character and recognizing that it's not the hat and pipe that defines him, but the social ticks (the modern motion picture versions attribute Aspergers to the character, at least in part) that are more recognized in the modern day. Here, we see Holmes work well with cellular phones, city maps, computers and the like to solve his crimes.

Moffat's Sherlock is one that's destined for recognition, and I hope that it'll become as recognizable as some of the other classic versions. It's a fantastic drama, and the next series will be well anticipated. It’s exceedingly well thought out, acted and shot, and represents the best of what television can do with a familiar character.

Ray LaMontagne and the Pariah Dogs: God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise

Ray LaMontagne is one of the exemplary singer-songwriters of the last decade, with albums such as Trouble, 'Till the Sun Turns Black and Gossip in the Grain, where he's continually stunned me with a number of songs, ones that have shook me to the core, while massive changes between albums has kept the music fresh, interesting and invigorating throughout. Throughout the albums, however, LaMontagne has kept steady feel and with his works, especially when it comes to the lyrics themselves.

God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise retains a lot of the best sounds of LaMontagne, but he once again stretches into very new territory. Opening with Repo Man, there's a harsh, accusatory sound to this, and it sets off a series of songs that are fairly dark, compared to some of the other songs in their repertoire. There's a real shift, which gives an entirely new dynamic to the sound and feel to LaMontagne. There are some standout songs, such as Beg, Steal and Borrow, which ranks amongst the best songs that the singer has put out with a steady country beat driving the song forward. This Love Is Over is another song that feels different: less moody, but more thoughtful as LaMontagne, accompanied by guitar, sails over the lyrics.

Old Before Your Time is possibly one of the songs that really helps to define this album as a whole. Fused with LaMontagne's great sound, there is a subtle country punk to the entire album, one that feels far more at home in rural country than in the urbanized ones (this image might help, as there's a song title New York City's Killing Me, which talks about the depressing and impersonal nature of the city: I just got to get me somewhere, / Somewhere that I can feel free, /Get me out of New York City, son, / New York City's killin' me.)

Indeed, a lot of the feel of this album seems split between where someone is and where they want to be in life, which is a fairly constant idea throughout life, with people separated from everything. Armed with the Pariah Dogs, LaMontagne sets up with a country and indie-rock feel that at points feels juxtaposed between styles. The result is a fantastic mix-up of sound and style that represents some of LaMontagne's best work to date.

Andvari's Ring, Arthur Peterson

Earlier this year, I came across a spectacular find in the local Northfield Bookstore. While browsing, I came across an old book from 1916, titled Andvari's Ring, by Arthur Peterson, outfitted with a deep green cover, no dust jacket and gold lettering. Popping the cover open, it appears to have been a rejected copy from Norwich University's Kreitzberg Library, just up the street. Looking over the first couple of pages, I discovered that the book was a translation of a Norse epic poem, the legend of Sigurd and Gudrún, which I had another translation of, by author J.R.R. Tolkien. The book looked absolutely fascinating, and I picked it up, reading it piecemeal over the last couple of months. The result was a read that absolutely blew me away, not only for its story, but because it was a root story that has since influenced numerous others since its inception, providing a considerable amount of insight into modern popular culture.

The myth is an interesting one, and I can't see why the Norse mythology and Vikings haven't become more popular in modern culture, especially as publishers and production companies have looked towards a lot of older material to churn to the masses. The story is a fun one, with quite a lot of violence, quite a lot of speculative fiction source material and a number of surprising connections to other myths and historical figures around the world: Attila the Hun makes an appearance, as does Claudius, Cleopatra, and some of the underlying myths that informed King Arthur's Sword in the Stone to J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. The influences in Tolkien’s works are clear, which should come as no surprise, given the author’s deep level of influence in mythology, which appears in his professional and fictional works.

What impressed me greatly was the role that these sorts of ground zero myths have for modern culture: looking at a number of modern stories, such as the ones above, it's clear that there's quite a lot of borrowing and common ground between stories. As my girlfriend and I marathoned Stargate SG-1 over the course of this fall, there was a heavy dip into Arthurian legend that supplemented some of the Norse undertones with a couple of storylines, while J.R.R. Tolkien's estate has recently released a new translation, titled Sigurd and Gudrún. Despite some of these influences, there's been no major capitalization on this sort of storyline, for better or for worse. Such attention focuses the general public on a subject that doesn't necessarily get the attention that it might deserve, for better or for worse.

This particular copy, coming up on its century mark, feels and looks like a book. It has a small amount of heft for something its size, with an unassuming cover, rather than a photo shopped gimmick that's been informed by marketing and research teams. It's lasted the test of time, and I think for that reason, it attracted my attention as something worth reading.

Andvari's Ring feels like a real book, from the physical appearance to the text inside. There is precious little on the author or any other titles that he might have published, and reading this sort of early material on the legend, one that informed some of the cornerstone works of speculative fiction, helps to further my own interest in the genre. Reading the classics of any genre is important, but going further, into the roots of the subject, helps to put the elements into place, based on an author's knowledge and understanding of what then informed their work. Understanding these root influences grants a far better understanding, therefore, of the subject that's being read. While it might not help with the specific enjoyment of a derivative work, it does help when you begin to put things together as a larger whole.

Andvari's Ring helps to fulfill both functions: understanding and enjoyment, and for those two reasons alone, it's worth looking up. Google Books has a copy, here, and I'm sure that other copies exist throughout used bookstores and forgotten libraries.

Warfare for the Crowdsourcing Age: Adam Robert’s New Model Army

New Model Army, by Adam Roberts, takes an interesting look at the function of warfare and society with the question: What if a hierarchical military, such as ones set up along the lines of the British or U.S. Armies, and pitted it against an army that was fully democratic in its organization?

The concept is an interesting one, and the book as a whole is a perfect example of something that I've wanted to see in the subgenre: a world in which the military itself is examined, not only in the tactical side of things, but also in its ideology. Roberts puts forth an interesting idea that blends together the changing states of technology and warfare: militaries have adopted a new organizational structure: rather than the strict chain of command that defines the military lifestyle, they have brought together a large group of people, connected them through secure wikis and use the power of the crowd to fight. Tactical decisions are voted upon, and each soldier updates the battlefield map with the needed information: where they are, where the enemy is, and so forth.

The concept is one that is already in the earliest stages of implementation in the real-world battlefield, on a couple of levels. With the advances in technology, military leaders have been able to reduce the 'fog of war', the so-called elements of the battlefield, where commanders can't see what's happening, and are forced to rely on planning extensively. As the abilities of the military to watch the battlefield increases, from cameras mounted on soldiers to drones flying overhead, major changes have been seen, both in the leadership and organizational structure of the military, but also in how tactics are put forth.

Indeed, the connection between the ability to wage war and the relative ease to which technology is available has already begun some major changes. In 2008, insurgents entered the city of Mumbai, armed with cell phones and the internet, and were able to coordinate their attacks, using Google Earth to help plan the attack. Other examples of similar uses have been used across the various conflicts around the world. As the world becomes more connected, it's far easier to coordinate attacks with individuals across country borders and continents.

New Model Army, while it puts forward an interesting story on the military, there's a number of things that make the story a bit more implausible, technology advances aside. Currently, the United States and her allies are into their ninth year of waging a counter-insurgency battle in the Middle East, one that will likely leave lasting impressions on the organizations of all involved, and are lessons that would not be easily forgotten. As such, the New Model Armies (NMAs) are essentially a form of insurgency warfare that seem to plague the regular British military wherever they confront them, inflicting heavy losses and forcing surrenders at several battles. For a nation that's largely been involved with counterinsurgency warfare for longer than the US (if one can consider the problems in Ireland), it seems strange that they would be unable to counter said forces, not to mention not adopting some of the methods in and of themselves. The successes of the NMAs seem to come from the ineptitude of the British military. Political motivations or opinions notwithstanding, it are a situation that annoyed me as I read the book.

The British NMA, soldiers were instilled with a sense that a pure form of democracy, and carried such an air of superiority amongst them that I can't help but thing that their role was satirical, at least at points. It's not until into around two thirds of the book that the main character is confronted with any sort of counter-point to his philosophy that democracies are inherently better than any other form of self governance.

When it comes to military powers, democracy is something that really doesn't exist, and for good reason: the style of warfare that has evolved over the course of human history ultimately relies on a large presence of soldiers, acting in concert, to achieve a goal that's determined by someone higher up in the chain of command. The ability to work together as a unit is a key element for the battlefield, and discipline is drilled into soldiers early on. The evolution of uniforms and mass-produced weapons helped to support this. The outsider viewpoint of a the military as a close-knit group of people follow orders, are yelled at and depersonalized (The term G.I. means General Infantry), is somewhat accurate, but the full meaning and reasons behind this type of training needs to be taken into consideration. The role of the soldier is to fulfill national priorities: in this case, by force, and essentially, they are willing tools of what is determined needed to be done.

Looking at a group such as a New Model Army, it's hard to imagine that a force composed of individuals, with a bottom-up organizational method would be as successful in the real world: individuals might be disciplined, but military actions require the coordinated efforts of a group to accomplish their goals: hence the depersonalizing training to get people to not run away from being shot at. Similarly, in the NMA, people hold no rank, nor do they carry any sort of specialization, which in and of itself causes issues. Militaries are groups of specialists, whether it be in a certain weapons system, as medics or as leaders, and I don't believe that the simple availability of information through the cloud can replace an individual trained and specializing in something as important as lifesaving. (I know I wouldn't want a surgeon trained from Wikipedia in heart surgery). Militaries are likewise structured (when they work properly) with individuals skilled in leadership and planning are promoted, and are able to recognize, carry out and accomplish their goals.

Furthermore, military actions recruit more than just tactical (on the battlefield) planning to accomplish their goals: there is far more long term planning when it comes to carrying out national goals, which in turn, inform the tactical requirements of a battlefield. Once again, in a crowd sourcing environment, I don't see that this would be an effective style of fighting. People in a large group might have their own goals, methods of fighting that run counter to national goals. In the book, the NMA uses a nuclear 'bullet', a sized down nuclear warhead that surprises everyone. Similar actions exist in real life: groups such as Freedom Watch or the Minuteman Project, which advocates or utilize force outside of national interests and policy. Undoubtedly, said crowd groups would utilize similar behavior in their actions, especially in a war zone. A U.S. Officer who captures the story's main character makes such a point, noting that while his British NMA is a good example of where this sort of thing works, there's other groups that are essentially mobs.

Insurgencies around the world utilize social networking and crowd sourcing elements right now, and in all likelihood, there will be moves towards this future that Roberts has predicted. However, as they do so, their opponents will do what the militaries in this book haven't done: adapt to the new styles of fighting, and find ways to counter them, but also understand how and why such measures are being put into place.

While there are real issues with the style of fighting in the book, Roberts has done what I've really yet to see another Military Science Fiction writer do with the genre: look at how people fight, and how things might work. This is a military science fiction book that goes beyond the action; it goes straight to the heart of how militaries function, speculative in and of itself. I see the fighting that occurs in the book as an afterthought, used to support the real character elements that go into the story, and as such, New Model Army is an interesting, fascinating book that annoyed me thought out, but it frequently made me stop and think about how such a thing might actually work in reality. Because of this, this book stands out from a lot of other miltiary science fiction stories.

One thing is for sure though, if there is a rise in this sort of style of fighting, it will be a very bad thing for all of us.

Pattern Recognition, by William Gibson

After reading Ian McDonald's River of Gods recently, I was compelled to read another science fiction novel that took place around the planet, interacting with a number of other cultures. As William Gibson's latest novel, and the last of his 'Bigend' trilogy, Zero History was recently released, I picked up the first of the series, Pattern Recognition, published in 2003. I've had the book for a number of years, but had never picked it up, or even cracked it open. My first surprise, upon doing so, was to discover that the book had been signed by Mr. Gibson.

Pattern Recognition, from an author that helped define the notion (and term) cyberspace, as well as much of the cyberpunk genre, might seem as a sort of step back. The book takes place in contemporary times, in a post-9/11 setting, in England, Japan and Russia. Media consultant Cayce Pollard is hired by a company, Blue Ant, who is redesigning a logo for a Tokyo firm. Pollard, who has an adverse reaction to logos and marketing, and a curiosity with a series of videos that have surfaced on the internet, is hired by Blue Ant founder Hubertus Bigend, who wants her to find the maker of the clips, because of the potential gain that can be achieved by learning everything about them, and why they attract so much attention. This job is one that takes her across the world, from London to Tokyo to uncover a code that would help connect the videos to a firm in the United States, and to Russia as more leads come about. Her trip around the planet is one of discovery, as she moves from world to world following information.

While the book is set in contemporary times, it fits well with Gibson's notion that science fiction doesn't have to be part of the future. Instead, this book does what the best science fiction stories do: amidst the science fictional elements that surround the story, there is a central element that defines the book. In this case, this book is about networking, and the ability of technology to bring a diverse set of people together. In 2003, this stage of the internet hadn't quite happened yet: blogging was the big thing, and Facebook was still a year away, twitter three. Pollard's quest? To find what's arguably a viral video. In a large way, Gibson has recognized the rise of social media before it happened.

While the predictions of Pattern Recognition aren't quite as revolutionary as Gibson's were with Neuromancer, this book is far more relatable, relevant, and understands the heart of the internet. The story contains very few speculative elements: Pollard's allergy to advertising (in some cases) and some of the technological elements that are at this point outdated. Author Dennis Danvers noted it best in his review:

Science fiction, in effect, has become a narrative strategy, a way of approaching story, in which not only characters must be invented, but the world and its ways as well, without resorting to magic or the supernatural, where the fantasy folks work.

In a large way, Gibson has demonstrated that he's very good at figuring out how people will use various technologies, and in a way, the gap between Neuromancer and Pattern Recognition (and presumably, its sequels, Spook Country and Zero History.) isn't as far apart as when it first meets the eye. Pattern Recognition illustrates a reality that is cold, separated from humanity while being connected at almost all times through the internet. Gibson makes the point that the future isn't far away, it's right now, this very moment.

Indeed, Gibson is probably one of the few science fiction authors to see his works come to life - not only in the details as to what he's written, but in how the future has been realized. It's a bit of a given point, seeing how the book has been set, but between 2003 (when I entered college) and the present day (out of school and working for several years) the world has changed immensely, not just in the speeds and the availability of communications, but in how people understand and utilize the internet. This seems to have been anticipated, and while the real world is already leaving this story behind, it's clear that there are some lessons here that can be learned: we're all connected.

As a story, the execution leaves a book that makes me feel much like Chris Kelvin from Solaris: isolated, cold, somewhat depressed, and Gibson writes Pollard’s character as a fairly empty person, someone who is socially isolated, but at the same time connected to those people whom she shares mutual interests with. Pollard’s journey across the planet in search of a revolutionary form of marketing is an interesting one across a number of countries and subcultures that could only exist in the internet age. At journey’s end in Moscow, Pollard comes to meet the maker of the clips, and an interesting story of commercial viability vs. artistic creativity is brought full circle.

While it’s not as groundbreaking, Pattern Recognition succeeds by using science fiction as a mirror, demonstrating not only that we live in a futuristic world, it’s one that we’re only now fully realizing as we live it.

David J. Williams' Burning Skies

A couple of weeks ago, I finished David J. Williams' second book, The Burning Skies, and came away with about the same reaction that I had with his first novel, The Mirrored Heavens: I liked it, but at points, I completely lost sight of the overall picture of what was happening in the novel. The second book of his sleek Autumn Rain trilogy, The Burning Skies is a thrill ride right to the end, and for anyone who's into cyber-punk and military science fiction, this is probably the trilogy for you.

Coming hot off the heels of The Mirrored Heavens, The Burning Skies picks up a number of the storylines that were left hanging. Where the first book could have easily been a standalone novel, this one isn't, picking up and leaving off with loose ends that need to be tied up. The Autumn Rain had been though to have been destroyed in the first book, but it comes back with a vengeance, going for a power grab that sees a massive gunfight in an orbital facility where the Hand (The President) has holed up. The aims of the Rain isn't wanton destruction: they represent a whole host of post-humanity interests with the idea of bringing mankind into some sort of evolutionary advance by taking control of planetary networks.

The breakneck speed of this book is complimented by Williams' writing style, which takes a little getting used to. I found myself reading through the book very quickly once I got the hang of the tense and what was going on, and writing in the present tense, as he does, allows for an unprecedented view of the action that is going on in the book. With much of the book action, it makes for an interesting read. Williams' has noted that part of his background is in video games, and for gamers, this book will most likely feel very familiar: it's quite the adrenaline rush.

At other points, however, the breakneck speed hampers the storytelling: there's a lot of points where I found myself having to re-read a chapter or two to bring myself up to speed with why the action was happening, as I'd lose sight of the goals of the characters and the story as a whole.

What I really appreciate about this trilogy as a whole is Williams' attention to detail when it comes to geopolitical elements, which should be a proper backbone in any military science fiction novel. In a lot of ways, he's done his homework conceiving of the future that he wants his story set up in, and worked on a lot of background material that helps to establish a baseline, telling a story within that context, something that not every military science fiction novel does. The result is an interesting one: the theme here is the complexity of political power, even in the future.

This sort of background is essential, especially for a book that is as fast-paced and complicated as William's trilogy. Fortunately, between the books and his website, there is quite a bit of background reference material that's been put into place, with diagrams, explanations, character lists, and so forth. The first two books have set up a fun ride. Soon, it'll be onto the last novel, The Machinery of Heaven, which promises to be a read that's just as exciting as the first two.

Kirby Krackle and Nerd Rock

There is a growing music scene that I've been hearing more from lately, Nerd Rock. There's been several artists that I've really liked: 'Weird' Al Yankovich, They Might Be Giants, Jonathan Coulton, Paul and Storm, John Anealio, The Decemberists, amongst others. A new find of mine, Seattle-based duo Kirby Krackle, joins this genre with their two albums, their self-titled debut disc (Kirby Krackle, 2009) and their latest release, E for Everyone (2010).

E for Everyone is possibly one of the best examples of Nerd Rock, with a great alternative – rock sound that sounds incredibly polished and energetic, with songs about superheroes, comic books, video games and geek life. Within minutes of finding the band’s name on twitter, I was able to listen to a couple of their songs off of their website, and within minutes, I had both of their albums off of iTunes. Of all of the bands that I’ve listened to, they’re one of the more exciting, with a great sound and some fantastic lyrics.

The album starts off with Vault 101, about the video game Fallout 3, with a good kick, but the really good start comes with On and On, a song about Wolverine from X-Men, and his own struggle with immortality, thanks to his rapid healing. The rest of the album is a fairly diverse grouping of songs that is much better than their first album. Secret Identity is as it sounds (about a guy with a secret identity – it’s not specific to any one superhero), Roll Over feels like a party song that references just about every 1980s cartoon that I can think of, while Henchman follows a character trying to be a henchman for a super villain – asking some good questions: what are their hours, and what can they offer for health insurance? – Ring Capacity opens with a bright sound and looks to Green Lantern for inspiration. Can I Watch You? Is a funky song about Uatu and Take it from Me is about Mega Man. The last three songs on the album, Great Lakes Avengers, Dusty Cartridges and Long Boxes and Going Home are some of the best songs on the album, if not Nerd Rock in general. Great Lakes Avengers is plain fun: a character tries to join the X-Men, Justice League, Fantastic Four, Green Lantern Corps, (amongst others), while trying to avoid the eye of the Great Lakes Avengers, who are apparently a disaster, being some of the worst superheroes of all time. The album turns from lighthearted fun to more serious fair with the light ballad Dusty Cartridges and Long Boxes, a sweet story of a geek in love with a geeky girl. Going Home ends E for Everyone on a great note about the joy of attending a convention, describing it in the best way that I’ve heard: “We're on the road, we're going home/To the place where wild nerds roam/With pretty girls and dudes in capes/Going to cons is our escape.” The sound is chalk-full of energy and feels perfect for blasting over the speakers as one drives over to any given convention. For all of those thinking of attending the upcoming Celebration V or Dragon*Con, this will be a good one to start off with.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqtjJOsLGYs&feature=player_embedded]

Nerd Rock is something that I’ve been looking for, and as I’ve looked, there’s a good variety of material out there. The internet is a good medium for aspiring artists, and in a number of cases, there’s a lot of material that wouldn’t normally work its way through the music industry: as people are able to make music on their own, there seems to be a greater variety of music, which bodes well for the larger geek-community. Artists such as John Anealio and Jonathan Coulton both have had success with their own music, self-released, about various subjects in the speculative fiction genres. Kirby Krackle doesn’t seem to have the same exposure to the fan community, but has gone with their own route, essentially self-publishing their music and selling it through iTunes and their own website, gaining fame in their own circles.

The album succeeds on its own because it’s not a gimmick. Singer-songwriters in general are at their best when they’ve put together a song that they and their audience can get behind and relate to: that’s exactly what Kirby Krackle seems to have done with their two releases, and E for Everyone feels like a refinement over their first album. They’ve found exactly what they want to sing about, and people who will listen to, and they’ve taken off from there. This album exudes confidence, skill and some very good songwriting behind the sound.  The duo, Kyle Stevens and Jim Demonakos, have some serious geek credit with them: Demonakos founded Emerald City ComicCon and has penned a graphic novel and founded a chain of comic book shops in Washington, while Stevens has released six albums with other groups. More importantly though, it sounds like they’re having a good time on stage.

This sub-genre of Nerd Rock is a positive thing for fandom: music is a fantastic venue for telling stories on its own (and Kirby Krackle does this with a couple of songs: Henchmen, Great Lakes Avengers, Dusty Cartridges and Long Boxes and Going Home) but is also a good venue for humor, reflection, and something in the music world for fandom to relate to. The inclusion of science fiction and fantasy elements in songs isn’t a new thing: just look at some of Iron Maiden’s songs for music about Dune, Lord of the Rings, D-Day and quite a bit more, but new artists bring fresh air to fans. I’ve gotten a kick out of a number of songs about some of my favorite things, and a new venue for speculative fiction is a very good thing, because music tells stories differently than prose or video.

The bottom line is: Kirby Krackle is on a roll with E for Everyone, and they’re a band that I hope to hear a lot more from in the coming years. In the meantime, they’ve left me with a fantastic album to listen to over and over.

Soylent Green

My girlfriend and I have begun a sometimes-weekly thing, where we'll pick out an old science fiction film and watch it, a sort of date night in. A while ago, I solicited my Facebook networks for a list of such movies that I needed to watch; the list grew immensely, and ever since, I've been picking up a lot of these older films as I find them. I've found a couple thus far: Planet of the Apes, 2010: The Year We Make Contact, Alien(s), Omega Man, Logan's Run and recently, Soylent Green.

I had picked this film up, because it was on sale, but also because it has coined one of the absolute classic phrases in the genre: "Soylent Green is people!", screamed at the end of the film by the lead star, Charlston Heston, after he discovers the truth about the food that people have been eating all along. Most of these films, I've found, have been highly entertaining ones, watched simply for their status in the genre. But with Soylent Green, I found, there's a very relevant message in the film: when people and nature compete, mankind will do what it takes to win, even if by winning, mankind turns to somewhat drastic things in order to continue to survive.

Oddly, I was somewhat reminded of one of my favorite (and frequently mentioned) books, The Windup Girl, by Paolo Bacigalupi. Both works feature near-future societies, where human populations have overrun their natural food supplies, and in a large way, are dependent upon larger companies to feed the larger population. The Windup Girl does this in a sophisticated, modern manner, while Soylent Green demonstrates the food shortages in a particularly excellent scene when Heston's character, Thorn, confiscates a stash of food from a rich murder victim's apartment, bringing it home for his elderly friend Sol.

At the onset of the film, set in 2022, the Soylent Corporation is the leading manufacturer of processed food, and is the only thing between the starving, overcrowded New York City, and total chaos of a hungry mob. Introduced is Soylent Green, created from plankton, which is rationed out to the people in the streets. Investigating the murder of William Simonson, Thorne discovers (from a report in Simonson's home) that the oceans have become depleted, and that the man had been a prominent member of the food company. The murder trail leads to a horrible conclusion: unable to cope with a vanishing resource, the company began to take dead people, and processed them as the namesake foodstuff. Unable to cope with what the company had been doing, Simonson arranged his own death.

At the heart of the action and dystopia that is presented, the film is an excellent cautionary tale, one that has an exceptionally well thought-out world that is frighteningly realistic. Recently, Charles Stross wrote an interesting blog post about the number of people that it would take to maintain the current level of society. Where most of everything that we do is supported in high percentages, from the design of the cars that we drive to the medicine that keeps us alive. When it comes to food, he notes that in the 1900s, it took around twenty to thirty percent of the work force to provide food for the entire population. Now, however, it takes .5 to 1% of the population, with an additional couple or percentage points to distribute it all, to do the very same thing. Just go to your grocery store and look at what is available at  your arm's length to see the variety of food. The logistical elements that go into creating everything there is enormous, automated and the nightmare of every green-eco activist who advocates for a clean living. With the preservatives, chemicals and emissions from cows that go into the whole process, there's a major impact to the world around us that just isn't visible to the average consumer. This makes the entire process far more scary, and in my mind, brings us quite closer to the worlds that have been presented in these sorts of bio-punk stories.

As climate change occurs and becomes more noticeable, it's likely that the science fiction genre will begin to look far more closely at this sort of science and dystopian future as a means of creative origin. Already, it's fairly easy to point to Bacigalupi's fiction, but in other venues, such as Lightspeed Magazine, there's already been a story about a similar future, and as these stories will undoubtedly become true, it's entirely likely that a lot of these authors will see their stories come true, in some form.

I don't think that I'd like to see the overpopulated world of Soylent Green or of The Windup Girl. The huge numbers of people, competing for food, and at the mercy of the food corporations is a frightening vision of the future, but in some ways, it's already becoming reality.

To A God Unknown, John Steinbeck

One of the latest books that I've read recently is John Steinbeck's To A God Unknown, his second novel, and a recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature. The story, which looks to the Bible, ancient myths, paganism and several other influences, weaves together a story about belief and faith, mixing reality and fantasy in what I would really call a speculative fiction novel.

Set in the 1800s, the book follows the story of the Joseph Wayne, a Vermonter, who yearns to go out west, and receiving the blessing from his father, he does so, only to learn that his father has passed away shortly after he settles in California. At that moment, Wayne believes that his father's spirit and soul has become imbued with the giant oak tree next to the house, and in his own way, be worships the tree. His three brothers move out west to his farm, and for a time, the valley is teeming with life. The brothers come across a rock in a glade, with a stream coming out of it, and discover that it is a sacred place to the Indios. Soon thereafter, Benjy, their youngest, alcoholic brother, is killed in a scuffle by Juanito, one of the farmhands, who vanishes.

One brother, Burton, is a devout Christian, and becomes angry with his brother for his interactions with the oak tree, believing it to be of darker powers at work, which go against his own beliefs. He leaves the farm, but not before killing the tree. This has dire consequences for the valley, which begins to dry up as a drought sets in, which begins to kill the land. More accidents come. Joseph's wife, Elizabeth, falls to her death at the rock, and Joseph and Thomas decide to leave the farm, bringing their cattle to greener pastures. Joseph stays, and is rejoined by Juanito, who convinces Joseph to visit the local priest. When Joseph tries to get the priest to pray for the land, he refuses, and tells Joseph that he is sick, and offers his own help. Joseph returns to the glade to find that the stream coming out of the rock has dried up. When he decides to leave, he gets cut. Inspired, he climbs on top of the rock, cuts his wrists open, sacrificing himself, and soon after, it begins to rain.

I have long been a fan of John Steinbeck, ever since I first read his short novella, Of Mice and Men in Mrs. Page's English class at Harwood Union High School, and I moved on to a number of his other books - Cannery Row, Travels With Charley, The Pearl, The Red Pony, and The Grapes of Wrath - I've long loved the Americana element of his writing, and for me, he is one of the quintessential American writers, one who touches deeply on themes of the country. Recently, I've become interested in reading more of his books, and while browsing through the bookstore, I came across this book, and was interested because at a first glance, it fell squarely within the speculative fiction range, retelling elements of the Bible, older religions and myths to bring about an interesting story. There are a number of pure fantastic elements as well, right down to the last actions of the book, when Joseph dies, and his spirit renews the land from his soul and belief.

I've long believed that stories aren't really defined by their physical story elements - the characters, locations and items that they use - but by the ways in which the characters perceive their environment around them, and use the actions of the story to learn. To A God Unknown is about belief and faith of the strongest type: the intangible, the unknowable, and the impossible. Throughout the story, Joseph is a character that believes strongly in the land and its well being, and perceives of some higher power in ways that are not, to say the least, traditional, and raising the ire of his family and community members. Yet, while reading, Joseph's actions demonstrate that he has the most honest and raw form of belief: he believes in the land, and sees his actions rewarded in any number of ways, and punished in others. For me personally, this was an interesting book because I'm not sold on the concept of God, as proscribed by any number of religious institutions. My beliefs lie somewhere with Josephs: God, or any higher power that escapes definition, is something that is unknowable, intangible and mysterious.

The last pages of the book were by far one of the most important that I read, in almost anything, when Joseph goes to a priest, looking to help save the land. The priest refuses, saying that his job is to ensure the salvation of the human soul, not that of the land, setting up a major divide between the anarchical views that Joseph takes, as opposed to a major institution such as the Catholic Church. In a way, Joseph believes in the entirety of the universe, which felt far more basic and universal than the Church, which looks simply to one of God's (If there is one who created everything) creations for their own benefit. This has never, and still doesn't, sit well with me, and I prefer Joseph's more universal, general view on how the world runs. This falls with a number of other world views, and it's interesting to see this all presented in a novel such as it was. Steinbeck has created a wonderful, fantastic novel with To A God Unknown, and one that has left me thinking far more than I thought it would have.

Review: Hellboy 2

One of the best moments in Hellboy II: The Golden Army occurs when Hellboy and Abe Sapien walk up to a little old lady, burnishing a canary towards her, prompting her to open up a door to allow them into the Troll Market. The scene itself it laced with humor, a sense of weird paranormal happenings and quite a bit of fun. The scene ends when Hellboy punches the lady (who's really a troll), and the audience knows right then and there that the movie isn't a serious affair, but something that the director and cast clearly had quite a bit of fun with.

The film, which follows up 2004's Hellboy, is an adaptation of Mike Mignola's comic book by the same name. Like the first film, it plays off of some of the stories, but is creatively seperate from the books. In this regard, director Guillermo del Toro is possibly one of the best directors to take on the franchise, and brings his own vision to the screen.

I've been a fan of the comics, particularly because of Mignola's unique artwork and the rich gothic and paranormal elements to the issues that I've read. It's a very fun comic, and one that has a lot of depth and meaning to it. The first film was a decent adaptation of the films, but by far, Hellboy 2 feels more at home in the world that Hellboy and the BPRD team inhabits.

For all intents and purposes, Hellboy: The Golden Army could be Hellboy: BPRD, for most of the team from that particular line of comics is present: Liz Sherman, Abe Sapien and Johann Kraus, who investigate an event at an auction house, which brings them into a plot orchestrated by Prince Nuada, who seeks war against humanity. He intends to reactivate the 'Golden Army', a race of mechanical warriors that had been stood down before. Hellboy and BPRD travel around, from the Brooklyn Bridge to Ireland.

There's some truly great moments here in this story. The Troll Market hidden under the Brooklyn Bridge far surpasses any of the magical and fantastic that's been seen in Harry Potter or similar films, and recalls del Toro's prior film, Pan's Labyrinth, with it's subtle elements. Ever since watching that film, I've been enamored of his vision of the world, and he's really the perfect person to take Mignola's own work to the screen.

Visually, the film is quite a bit of fun, although at points, I felt that the story was a bit lacking. The narrative gets off the rails for some of the character moments, and at points, the film doesn't know what it really wants to be about: Hellboy's own relationship with Liz Sherman, his out of place nature with the world and his own destiny and the story at hand. Between the three, the story feels somewhat stretched, especially as some of the same ground has been covered already in the first Hellboy film.

The only other thing that really bothered me was Johann Klaus. He's a very interesting character from the BPRD side of the house, but in those comics, he's really a consultant, not the leader that we see in the film. His character, coupled with a suit that was just a little too dynamic (hissing vents, really?), fell largely flat, given my expectations from the comics. Still, this is an adaptation, and as such, I'm not expecting the entire thing to be exactly like the comics.

Still, the film is quite a bit of fun, and a worthy addition that leaves the story somewhat following what's happened in the comic books (to my knowledge - I'm not overly familiar with the entire storyline - something that I'm looking to correct.) It'll be interesting to see if a third film is followed up, because the first two really set up some elements towards that end. However, my preference remains with the comics and their unique art and stories.

Deus EX Machina: The Matrix is really just Tron

One of the films that I've watched lately that's become a real favorite of mine is 1982's TRON, which told what I feel is one of the better stories about artificial intelligence and the future of computers. The movie is a dated one, given how much computers have changed in the past thirty years, but I feel that it holds up extremely well, even in the modern computing age. Given the craze in Hollywood over the past decade for sequels, it comes as no surprise that a sequel for TRON will be released later this year. What is surprising is just how long it's taken (28 years!) to make a sequel. Except for one thing: the film has already been remade with another hit: The Matrix.

I saw The Matrix first, about a year or two after it was first released, and really enjoyed it. The combination of martial arts, cyberpunk and gothic themes blended together into a genuinely smart science fiction thriller worked extremely well, even extending into the sequels, which I thought were decent (although they certainly suffer from the 'More is Better' mentality that sequels are often saddled with), especially with some of the themes that were introduced in Reloaded and Revolutions.

When I watched TRON this past fall, I was astonished at some of the marked similarities between the two films. The Matrix is a film that plays homage to a number of films that influenced the Wachowski Brothers early on, and it's easy to assume that much of what is consistent in The Matrix is influenced from TRON. Some of these similarities are in the form of the visual nature of the film - the opening title sequences are nearly identical, as are some camera angles and scenes. Moreover, the story idea of a person entering a completely digital world is a major similarity between the two, and is certainly not something that's tied only to TRON. (William Gibson's fantastic thriller Neuromancer comes to mind) But in the visual arts, it's clear that there's quite a bit of TRON in The Matrix.

What made Steven Lisberger's film so interesting to me was the real depth to the story, and the religious connections that were placed there between the programs in the computer systems, and the mythical users who created them. Like any good story set in a speculative fiction universe, the story extrapolates from the fantastic and has several themes that are relatable to the audience watching the film. Here, there is a link between the cold and analytical electronics, with an element of the supernatural to the beliefs of the programs. Moreover, it changes the viewpoint of a program to something that's highly relatable, as people with fairly specific purposes within the innards of a computer, while the user, a creator of programs, is akin to a god in the machine.

The Matrix incorporates some of these elements in TRON, where Neo proves to be an exceptional person within the programming of the Matrix, someone who can ultimately conceptualize and realize the full extent of his abilities within the Matrix - he's able to alter the reality around him in order to accomplish extraordinary things. Neo is essentially superman within the computer, with a number of religious connotations surrounding him throughout the story.

With the coming Tron: Legacy film coming in December, the question has to be asked: is it necessary? In the follow-up Matrix films, we see that there's an environment that is very similar to the world that TRON presents, with programs acting on their own in their own little world. This seems to be where the next TRON is exploring, with a new world with better graphics (literally in both cases), but in a way, the Matrix films acted as a reboot to the 1982 film in their own way. The hope with film producers is that this new TRON film will become the start to a new franchise of films, with a trilogy and television series planned (at least that's the rumor). There's a number of ways that this story can go, and it will be very interesting to see just which direction can be taken with the future films and productions.

When it comes down to it, however, The Matrix is really a highly stylized, slightly different version of TRON. The protagonists in each film are largely the same: challenge a malevolent computer program and overlord within ambitions to control humanity. There are some differences here between the two, but for all intents and purposes, the Matrix has a similar enough story and had the same impact as its predecessor.

Hopefully, the upcoming TRON film will fare better than its counterparts in the Matrix trilogy, providing an interesting and thought provoking sequel to a film that really sparked that in the first place. Both the Matrix and TRON were excellent films that arguably changed the genre of science fiction film.

Stargate Universe Joins the Stargate Universe

The shared groan that my girlfriend and I shared as the end title card for the last episode of Stargate Universe’s first season, Incursion (Part 2), has become a familiar reaction to the ending of each episode of the series that we've been watching, and reminds me of the reaction that I've generally had for the season enders for Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis, as well as Battlestar Galactica. The ending to SGU's first season was shocking, frustrating, and ultimately, a fantastic end to a really strong season for the Stargate franchise's latest television entry.

The SyFy channel has a really annoying habit of leaving a viewer hanging, and it was something that largely characterized SG-1, with a small story arc that would be resolved within the first couple of episodes of the next season, and while it's annoying, it's a good way to make people really look forward to the upcoming season - already, I'm eagerly awaiting September, when new episodes return to the small screen. The finale demonstrated that the franchise, with its much darker nature, can continue to tell a good story, but also link back to the regular Stargate franchise and storylines that had been started earlier on, something that was a welcome surprise.

The start of Stargate Universe led me to believe that much of the storylines would be somewhat ignored, pushed to the side for some background context for the characters, but that was it. As the story has progressed since that first, fantastic pilot episode last October. The show has taken a couple of hits with its characters and some of the smaller elements, but overall, it has come out the other side in good form, telling some truly fantastic stories, and leaving the audience really wanting a bit more as the story of the crew of Destiny shows that there are some pretty cool things planned.

The surprising element that I've found over the course of the show was the connections to Earth, and the recent reintroduction of older storylines that had begun to creep in at the end of SG-1's run, namely, with the Lucian Alliance. While it's pretty clear that the show is going to remain on Destiny for now, and that much of what we've seen thus far will continue, the introduction of other storylines gives this show something a bit different than what we've seen in other shows, like Star Trek: Voyager and to a lesser extent, Stargate: Atlantis. The ongoing storylines that we've seen show that some of the groundwork that was set up in SG-1 will still apply, and unlike in Atlantis, where a whole new story arc had been put into place, with some of the prior story elements coming in only occasionally. Hopefully, this new approach will work better, resulting in a series that lasts for longer than Atlantis fared. SG-1 demonstrated the lasting appeal of the show, and thus far, nothing has been able to replicate that.

Universe also shows that the franchise can move beyond SG-1 by incorporating more mature and darker elements to it. SG-1 was a fairly lighthearted affair most of the time, but Universe can be downright grim, but it maintains much of the fantastic storytelling and characters that the Stargate franchise is known for. This makes quite a bit of sense, given the prior successes of Battlestar Galactica, and that as the surrounding times change, the context for the show changes as well. The original Stargate came out in 1997, preceded by a movie, with the United States facing off against an evil empire that wanted to enslave humanity, just seven or so years after the fall of the Soviet Union, where the United States faced off against a singular power that threatened its influence in the world.

Universe seems to mirror that change in politics, with the crew of the Destiny moving into an ambiguous world where the enemy is not clearly known. While I doubt that it is an example of the show's creators explicitly going out and looking at political science and social theory to help construct the show, it is a good example of how the show, and the entertainment arts are generally influenced by the world around them. I think that this is the key element that allows for something to become relevant, notable and ultimately successful, because an audience will respond to something that they themselves can understand and perceive.

The good thing in all of this is that the show has come around full circle, leaving a lot of the familiar elements of the prior shows, where it finds itself in the middle of larger storylines that had been in progress. Universe, which had tried to largely escape from the rest of the franchise's image, has come back, serious, determined and ready to take them on. The Goa'uld ships look better than they ever have, and the villians are just as evil and ready to kill people, but without the costumes and things that made the show a little more difficult to take seriously. In short, Universe is the grown up Stargate SG-1.

The good thing in all of this is that the show has come around full circle, leaving a lot of the familiar elements of the prior shows, where it finds itself in the middle of larger storylines that had been in progress. Universe, which had tried to largely escape from the rest of the franchise's image, has come back, serious, determined and ready to take them on. The Goa'uld ships look better than they ever have, and the villians are just as evil and ready to kill people, but without the costumes and things that made the show a little more difficult to take seriously. In short, Universe is the grown up Stargate SG-1.

As such, this was one of the strongest points of Battlestar Galactica, and with the follow up show, Caprica, and it remains a strong, if somewhat subdued element with the new show. As such, it is a good thing for the franchise, giving the show relevancy and some new ground to cover for the characters in the show. There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind: I’ll be tuning in for Season 2.

Strung Out on Heaven’s High: Ashes to Ashes Finale

Ashes to Ashes, the follow up show to 2006’s Life On Mars, ended on a high note, finishing out the series and presumably the entire franchise, answering some questions lingering from Sam Tyler’s experiences in 1973. At the same time, Ashes to Ashes has continued an interesting story, pushing the stories to the extremes of the medium, and providing a genuinely surreal experience for the viewer.

In 2006, Sam Tyler, a Manchester DCI, was hit by a car and awoke in 1973. Discovering the reasons for his abrupt time travel, he returned to the present, only to commit suicide and return to the land of Gene Hunt and his band of lawmen. Ashes to Ashes picked up the pieces shortly after Tyler’s death, with police officer Alex Drake receiving a bullet in the head, propelling her back to 1981, where she navigates the past once again to try and figure out just what is going on.

The show had a lot to live up to: Life on Mars, likewise named for a David Bowie song, provided one of the more interesting, exciting and thought-provoking show to hit the airwaves. A gripping look at changing values in a country that has changed dramatically, the show did exactly what good science fiction should do: present a story in different contexts. In this instance, it does it quite literally, but the original show introduced an element of surrealism to the storyline, something that Ashes to Ashes has continued.

A sense of the surreal has been a larger part of Alex Drake’s storyline. A police psychologist, she was an investigating officer when it came to Sam Tyler’s case, and throughout the show, recognizes that her surroundings aren’t real, whereas in the prior show, there was an element of uncertainty to Sam’s predicament, right to the very end. Life On Mar’s finale revealed that Sam had been killed, and Ashes to Ashes does a fantastic job carrying the momentum forward, delving further into the franchise’s mythology, characters and story.

One of the best points about the show was the return of Gene Hunt (Philip Glenister), Ray Carling (Dean Andrews) and Chris Skelton (Marshall Lancaster), and newcomers Alex Drake (Keeley Hawes) and Shaz Granger (Montserrat Lombard) who brought back a fantastic performance and new direction for the storyline. Rather than repeating the successes of its predecessor, which mainly focused on procedural elements (as well as Sam trying to return home), much more of the back story to the cast is brought in, and it’s clear that Gene Hunt has remained at the forefront of the action, metaphorically and literally.

While I’m not convinced that Ashes to Ashes had a better ending than Life on Mars, it was a good one, wrapping up where Life On Mars left off, and making it clear that Life On Mars was just one story in a much larger one. Gene is revealed to be something of a main figure in a purgatory for deceased police officers, helping them settles the major problems that they all faced before releasing them from that existence. The world of Gene Hunt is one of the restless dead, and he is their shepherd, acting out all of his own flaws and insecurities in the meantime.

In the run up to the finale, the surrealistic elements really come to their proper form, as Chris, Ray and Shaz begin to realize that their lives aren’t what they seem, and the points where they watch their own deaths is an interesting one, revealing much that’s been build up around the characters over the past three seasons.

I’m rather sad to see the show go away, and with the reveal at the end, it’s pretty clear that this franchise is largely at an end, something that I both applaud and lament. On one hand, it feels as though this sort of storyline really could have used a third series to better build up the suspense and tell some interesting stories. I would have loved to have seen a series set in the 1990s (which is coming up on the 20 year mark soonish), but at the same point, the BBC has had the foresight to really end the show before running it into the ground, something that American channels do only inadvertently when they can’t figure out how to market a television show to an audience. Life On Mars is a particularly hard one to sell, and here in the U.S., it failed to garner a second season, although they did do a decent job adapting the story – until the end.

The main problem with the Ashes to Ashes ending was that we already really knew what had happened to Sam: he’d died, and returned to the sort of dream world, and the revelation that Gene Hunt was a specter of coppers deceased really isn’t the surprise that it should have been, all things considered.

With that in mind, the final episode was far more intriguing than anything that I’ve really come across in U.S. mass media, and very rarely can something as interesting and surreal (Twin Peaks, Pushing Daisies, and LOST) as Life On Mars and Ashes To Ashes come onto our television screens. It’s a real shame, but at the same time, it’s good to treasure those shows as they do come across.