Sorry superhero fanatics out there but I am not one of you, much as I like much of the storytelling that happens in that space.
I often enjoy many of the movies but I am not, by any stretch, any kind of super fan.
What I do love, and with a passion, are Pixar films which have delighted with their wit, wisdom and superlative visual wonder since Toy Story hit screens back in 1995.
So the fact that YouTube creator SJPLAY have seen fit, and what a stroke of inspiration it was, to combine Pixar and Marvel fills me with great delight, as well investing the Avengers: Infinity War trailer with all kinds of animated goodness.
It’s a beautiful piece of work, the perfect combination of blockbuster and cinematic intimacy, with added Mr and Mrs Potatohead.
Alternate histories are an interesting fiction genre.
Emboldened by the endless openendedness of “What if?”, they surge forward along an entirely new part of the time/space continuum, merrily playing Sliding Doors with history, asking us to imagine how different the world would be if one crucial aspect at one pivotal moment had been just a little bit different.
It’s a fascinating exercise, one that shines a revealing light on history, humanity and society at a particular point in time, and Nisi Shawl, known for her fantasy and sci-fi short stories, has taken the genre with all its endless possibilities and run with it, giving us in the process the mostly sublime delights of Everfair.
Running from the late nineteenth century into the twentieth century just past the cessation of World War One, Everfair wonders, in its all steampunk glory, what the history of colonialism in Africa might have been if someone, or more precisely, a dedicated group of someones, had dared to stand up to the ceaseless tide of repression, death and exploitation that marked the age.
Particularly what might have happened to Congo, the fecund lush centre of Africa that at the time of the novel’s opening is in the grip of the brutal greed and madness of King Leopold II who perpetrated what came to be known by contemporaries of the time as the “Congo Horrors”, massacring millions in pursuit of purely financial gain.
This was no project of the Belgian state; rather Leopold’s stake in the Congo was private, a manifestly capital undertaking that primarily sought to exploit the regions richness in resources such as rubber which was harvested wild at the expense of countless millions of lives.
“The reverend lieutenant explained his program and the fire flickered, died to embers. Letter-writing and petitions to Parliament was what he asked of them. A movement along the lines of Abolitionism. Which had been well and good in its time. But Jackie had a better idea.” (P.30)
As you might expect with a project with no judicial oversight and little to no accountability, abuses were rife, with entire villages razed to the ground by a paramilitary army, the Force Publique, should anyone so much as stand in the way of Leopold II’s rapacious exploitation of land that had, for all intents and purposes been stolen from its people, regardless of the legal niceties employed to paper over the wholly unpalatable reality.
Everfair steps into the chamber of horrors, musing with robust historical accuracy and a penetrating on the colonial politics and culture of the time, what might have happened if a group of somewhat more enlightened people – Shawl is careful not to turn these people into saints, who are riven with their own shortcomings and failings – including adherents of the Fabian Society in England (it gave rise to the Labour Party) and African-American missionaries had taken control of much of this land and stood against the evil of Leopold II’s ugly hold on the region.
As an exploration of a “What if?” scenario, Everfair is peerless, taking a deep dive into what the setting up of a state dedicated to equality, fair labour laws, democracy and freedom might have looked like.
With steampunk sensibilities fully engaged, the novel documents the growth and then decline of Everfair over a period spanning 30 years (1889-1919), eschewing the genre’s usual predilection for wrapping this period in a cosy glow of hagiography-tinged nostalgia and challenging assumptions of what noble and enlightened actually looks like on the ground, especially to the indigenous people led by King Mwenda and Queen Josina, who initially cooperate with the well-meaning interlopers before demanding, quite rightly, that their sovereignty be heeded for once.
It’s this clash of idealism and reality that proves most fascinating.
As people like Fabian Society founders Jackie Owen and Daisy Albin, playwright Matty Jamison, French nurse Lisette Toutournier, Macao escaper labourer Tink and American missionary Martha Hunter surge into the region, determined from entirely different vantage points, to stop Leopold’s craven brutality in its track and establish a just and free society, we witness just how hard it is to create something perfect when the people seeking to do the creating are as flawed as the rest of us.
Well-meaning and idealistic yes, but flawed and as each time-stamped chapter races forward, we are taken on a wholly unique look at the history of colonialism where its excesses are blunted, its abuses stymied and progress, both technological and societal, is allowed a free hand.
“The king hadn’t anticipated that. Who was there to oppose him? The Europeans and Americans were distracted by their plague … Everfair’s whites and Christians would have fought in protest of their exile, but lacking foreign support, they shouldn’t have any choice in the matter–if General Wilson hadn’t so surprisingly taken up the Christians’ cause.” (P. 348)
It’s impressive stuff, and Shawl does a masterful job of worldbuilding, of conjuring up what-ifs, and maybes from the imaginative ether and given them richness and vitality and truth.
The only flaw in this wholly unique perspective is the fact that so much time and effort is given to exploring what might have happened, both good and bad, flawed and not, and the consequences of these actions, that the characters get a little lost in the mix.
It’s a pity that we don’t spend more time with them because they are a fascinatingly diverse bunch (sexually, religiously, idealistically), people who aim for the stars and land far closer to earth but who at least give the idea of putting flesh on their noble conjecturing a worthwhile shot.
Everfair is very much an ideas-driven narrative rather than character-driven, although we are given some insight into the private lives of these people, with a result that while the journey we are taken is engrossing, thought-provoking and alive with alternate possibilities, it often fails to connect emotionally.
On balance though, Everfair is gorgeously rich in ideas, history, humanity and the delicious prospect of what might happen if only the better angels of our nature were given a more prominent seat at the table, a luxuriously in-depth, compelling, enlightened and beautifully written take on a dark chapter in colonial history that could have played out so much differently.
Ah Firefly, I still mourn your prematurely-ended run, your brief 13-episode run of intra-galactic adventure and derringdo flickering out and foundering far before any of us were ready for it.
Thankfully while TV may be done, with you, the rest of the pop culture-o-sphere is not, with a movie (Serenity), countless comic books, and an online game with the original cast reprising their roles, ensuring that they won’t take the sky from you, or the sense of this wonderful show being alive and very much with us.
Adding to this list of ghosts of Firefly past and present, there are now plans afoot for series of books, which as Bleeding Cool points out, may underwhelm some fans who want a TV show revival and nothing else …
“Okay, look, yes, a series of books isn’t as good as good as purchasing the TV rights with a crowdfunding campaign, gifting them to Nathan Fillion, and getting the cast back together for a long-awaited second season …”
But, and yes Bleeding Cool also threw in a helpful “but” before sentence end, it’s much better than nothing and gives us a chance, particularly those of us for whom books are living, breathing entities unto themselves, to subsume ourselves in imaginative adventures of the mind, full of narrative splendour and possibility.
It’s an especially enticing prospect when Firefly creator, Joss Whedon, is overseeing the books which will all be part of official franchise canon.
And indeed, the book synopses, published on Entertainment Weekly show we’re in for some great adventuring …
Firefly: Big Damn Hero by Nancy Holder (Oct. 2018)
Captain Malcolm Reynolds finds himself in a dangerous situation after being kidnapped by a bunch of embittered veteran Browncoats.
Firefly: The Magnificent Nine by James Lovegrove (March 2019)
Jayne receives a distress call from his ex Temperance McCloud that leads the Serenity crew to danger on a desert moon.
Firefly: Generations by Tim Lebbon (Oct. 2019)
The discovery of the location of one of the legendary Ark ships that brought humans from Earth to the ’Verse promises staggering salvage potential, but at what cost? River Tam thinks she might know …
Now all we have to do is be patient and wait … hmmm, are they published yet? … *waiting* … now? Sigh …
Figuring out life is challenging for the best of us, and if we’re really honest with ourselves, we can often find ourselves defeated in the attempt.
But that comes much later (or if you’re lucky not at all), and when you’re young like Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson (Saoirse Ronan), there is still an expectation that you will be successful in crafting exactly the kind of life you envisage.
It’s certainly how the earnestly optimistic student approaches her life in Greta Gerwig’s directorial debut Lady Bird, the title taken from the name Christine has chosen for herself and which she insists everyone use, including her mum and dad, Marion and Larry (Laurie Metcalf and Tracy Letts respectively) and the staff and students at the Catholic school she attends on a scholarship.
At first glance, this act of defiant self-defining seems like a small gesture and is often dismissed as such by the adults around her; but for Lady Bird, it’s a powerful statement of her individuality and sense of self, part of her aspirational attempts to move beyond the small world, as she sees it, of her life in Sacramento, California.
These aspirations are hampered to a considerable degree by the parlous financial state of Lady Bird’s family who have failed, despite endless hard work and tenacity, to seize their small slice of the American Dream.
Lady Bird’s brother Miguel (Jordan Rodrigues) and his girlfriend Shelly (Marielle Scott) are living at home and working in a supermarket, despite degrees from UC Berkeley, her father stands to lose his job at any time, and and her mother is working double shifts as a nurse.
They’re not even close to living the dream, and to some extent, Lady Bird internally blames that on lack of effort, believing that you can do what you like, such as get into East Coast Ivy Colleges, if you simply try hard enough.
It’s not that simple of course, as her mum makes it clear in one particularly fractious scene where she pointedly outlines to her daughter just how far she is where she thought she’d be in life.
But despite the darker, rain-less side of the American Dream being lived out around her all day every day, save for when she is at school in a tonier part of town which is talked about in hushed tones of envy and longing by Lady Bird and best friend Julie (Beanie Feldstein, who is absolutely superb in the role), she holds fast to the idea that anything is possible.
Her expression of her optimistic tenacity often comes across as hard-nosed arrogance and rudeness, especially in the midst of her love/hate/love relationship with her equally-determined mother – they clash, notes her father, precisely because they are so similar – but Gerwig, who wrote the script and set it in her hometown, and Ronan’s sparkling performance, invest the titular character with thoroughly relatable every-personness that makes the film inherently affecting and deeply accessible.
Lady Bird is as bullish and pushy as she is because she knows how much opposes her dreams of getting to somewhere “more cultured” like the East Coast and yet she is also gloriously naive about how hard it is to realise your “best self” – yes she uses this term at one point, during one of the many passive-aggressive mother-daughter scenes in the film – and in fact, the best version of her life.
Watching her grapple with this as she joins a theatre group at school with Julie, meets Danny (Lucas Hedges), with whom she falls in love ’til some uncomfortable secrets emerge, and then moves onto precocious rich kid Kyle (Timothée Chalamet) and befriends popular girl Jenna (Odeya Rush), is illuminating because you see in Lady Bird the same journey we all go on.
That trip from thinking everything is ours to grab when we want it on our terms to realising there are multiple variables at work that will make that hard, though not impossible to achieve, is laid in quiet, nuanced glory, with Lady Bird learning that people are not always who you assume them to be.
Lady Bird is replete with a great many life lessons but refreshingly, despite the film taking place in her last year in high school, they do not take place through the usual high school movie narrative prism.
Nor are they great melodramatic road to Damascus moments that reek of manipulative grandstanding that telegraphs great epiphanies and messages from a great height or distance.
Lady Bird, which is not as quirky as the trailer suggests but is very real and grounded and contemplatively thoughtful, not to mention witty with delicious comic timing punctuating the tenser, darker moments, is content to quietly tell its story, to let its protagonist stumble, rise and fall back again and have her moments of life-defining realisations occur in small, out of the way scenes that nevertheless carry great import.
Take the scene towards the end of the film when Lady Bird realises her new cool friends, all affected ennui and faux philosophical earnestness, are everything she is not, rather than everything she think she wants, and she goes back to Julie, begs for her forgiveness and off to the prom where the two best friends reestablish a bond that is never really broken.
The scene, which is funny, sad and just a little defiant, is emblematic of the film as a whole which does an expansively rich and insightfully-touching job of communicating how knowing what you want and getting it, especially at the start of your life where you’re still appropriating the social awareness building blocks needed to make it happen, can feel like they’re separated by an unbridgeable chasm.
It is, of course, navigable as Lady Bird begins to discover post-high school, a little chastened but still hopeful, but comes with all kinds of compromises good and bad, and a growing sense that things can be a very good thing indeed, just not what you expect them to be when you first set out on this grand adventure called life.
Life is too short, way too short, to waste it on artists and songs that say nothing of any consequence.
That’s not say that every song you listen should be a philosophical treatise set to music – having some mindless, go-with-the-groove fun can be good for the soul – but immersing yourself in pop music that doesn’t just sound amazing but speaks something to the great mystery of life too adds to the quality of your life.
These five impressively-diverse artists do just that, bringing forth richness both musically and lyrically, the perfect combination of music and thought that will please anyone who wants their life soundtrack to be as substantial as it is hook-laden.
It’s all in the name they say, and if that’s true and it often appears to be, then Car Seat Headrest have the whole memorable naming gig tied up.
Hailing from Leesburg Virginia back in the day and now happily ensconsed in the vibrant music scane of Seattle, Washington, Car Seat Headrest are not defined by their catchy name alone.
Songs like “Nervous Young Inhumans” which was originally released back in 2011 via Bandcamp and has now been refurbished and reborn for a label-reissue of Twin Fantasy, of which the artist behind the group (which comprises Will Toledo; Ethan Ives; Andrew Katz; Seth Dalby) Will Toledo had this to say:
“[Twin Fantasy] was never a finished work … it wasn’t until last year that I figured out how to finish it.” (Exclaim)
In its new guise, the song is a driving jangling piece of catchy guitar-infused synth pop that echoes with Toledo’s idiosyncratically resonant voice, proof that while necessity is oft spoke as the mother on invention, reinvention can happen just because, gifting us music we know and love in a whole otehr pleasing form.
As a band devoted to defying expectations and calling out assumptions and flawed perception, Young Fathers, a biracial rap group (Alloysious Massaquoi, Kayus Bankole, ‘G’ Hastings) from Edinburgh have infused their wholly unique music with that same lyrical sensibility.
It’s most apparent on “In My View”, the second single from upcoming album Cocoa Sugar, which, as Pitchfork explains, calls out perceptions that aren’t quite right:
“Downtempo and monochromatic, the song is a hybrid, half-sung and half-spoken, as disembodied voices creak and echo. ‘In my view/Nothing’s ever given away/I believe/To advance then you must pay,’ Alloysious Massaquoi sings as drums scutter beneath whirring synth notes. ‘I wanna be king until I am/A man is just a man, I understand,’ ‘G’ Hastings adds. An overarching theme comes into focus: Everything isn’t what it’s made out to be.”
While it’s true “In My View” is not the most uptempo of tracks, it is richly-immersive, a beautiful tripping piece of music that challenges, and makes you think, making this piece of catchy pop one of those rare gems that pleases both mind and soul.
Singer/vocalist Ariel Beesley, who hails from the San Fernando Valley, California, is one those rare souls that excels at more than one thing.
A musician before she was a model, Ariel grew up with a eclectically-mixed palette that ranged from Frank Sinatra to The Cure, and began playing the guitar when she was 14, a precursor to writing her own songs.
All that perternatural ability has found a home in songs like “Slower Than Usual” that draw on a giddy driving ’80s feel that suggests The Go-Gos and makes excellent use of her dusky, evocative vocals that drip with laid-back passion and energy.
It’s one of those songs that sounds like something you’ve heard before and then doesn’t, marking her as someone who take in an influence, play with it and make it her owbn to consistently winning effect.
A psych rock band based in Malmö, Sweden, which once played host to Eurovision, Black Lighht White Light, founded by Danish-born Martin Ejlertsen who works with a number of friends to create the band’s sound which they describe, rather winningly on their Facebook page as “catchy melodies swirled in fuzzy guitars, distorted tremolo, chiming reverb, groovy bass lines and pounding beats in a Spectorish 60s universe with a modern Scandinavian twist.”
Now who could resist that kind of utterly distinct musical concoction?
Very few people and tracks like “Teenage Dream” keep capturing peoples’ attention, channelling all kinds of delicious sounds as beautifully described by Nordic Music Review:
“‘Teenage Dream’ is simple a belting track, led by a bold melodic keyboard driven theme, supported by fuzzy guitars, and the whole track is dripping with swirling psychedelia, but through it all Martin Ejlertsen’s vocals offer a soft melancholy quality that makes it really listenable. There are so many great influences from music across the last 50 years, but it still works perfectly today.”
The song somehow manages to be both energetic and ethereal all at once, a richly-rewarding piece of pop that dances and weaves around you, immerses you in such a way that remaining deep with its appealing folds for as long as possible comes across as a thoroughly compelling idea every time you listen to it.
While the artwork might suggest meditative moments in a medieval chruch somewhere, “Fire” by Swedish electro-pop duo, Club 8 (Karolina Komstedt, Poprace and Johan Angergård, Acid House Kings, Poprace) dares to take you somewhere entirely different.
Motoring along in a chilled midtempo vibe, the song, suffused by Karolina’s magically-removed voice that glides through the minor key-buffed melody with silken-smooth beauty, is one those engagingly lo-fi efforts that has presence despite it laidback dynamic.
It’s all very subtle and elegant and gorgeously outside the pellmell of most electronica, a welcome respite that bristles with emotionally-evocative vibrancy and an assuring sense of endless chilled perfection.
If you’re looking for music that will consume and calm you all at once, then Club 8 have the goods, a constantly-reinventive duo who understands you can be powerful while understated, dazzling while kicking back from the madding crowd.
NOW THIS IS MUSIC EXTRA EXTRA!
Kurtis Jackson has created the most relaxing short film ever with footage of his friend Alex snowboarding down a snow-covered forested hill to the elegant beauty of Claude Debussy’s “Clair de Lune”. It is beautiful and you will fall into a reverie … oh yes, you will … (Laughing Squid)
Lost in Space is a Netflix Original dramatic and modern reimagining of the classic 1960’s science fiction series. Set 30 years in the future, colonization in space is now a reality, and the Robinson family is among those tested and selected to make a new life for themselves in a better world. But when the new colonists find themselves abruptly torn off course en route to their new home they must forge new alliances and work together to survive in a dangerous alien environment, light-years from their original destination.
Stranded along with the Robinsons are two outsiders who find themselves thrown together by circumstance and a mutual knack for deception. The unsettlingly charismatic Dr. Smith (Parker Posey) is a master manipulator with an inscrutable end game. And the roguish, but inadvertently charming Don West (Ignacio Serricchio) is a highly-skilled, blue collar contractor, who had no intention of joining the colony, let alone crash landing on a lost planet. (synopsis via Coming Soon)
One of the great constants of my life has been a willingness to eschew the mire of unthinking nostalgia and to be open to someone taking a property I grew up with and reimagining and reinventing it.
Sometimes this creatively adventuresome attitude pays substantial dividends – think Battlestar Galactica, the DC Comics take on classic Hanna-Barbera characters – and sometimes it most spectacularly does not – begone from my presence forever CHiPs and Bewitched films – but on balance it’s fun to see where modern sensibilities and storytelling nous can take something.
Lost in Space is the next up for some clever reinterpretation, and while this isn’t the first time someone has attempted this (1998’s movie is not as bad as some say but it’s not brilliant either), it’s the first time it’s been attempted on TV which is, of course, where Irwin Allen’s spacefaring creation got its start.
Premiering 13 April, the new Lost in Space retains the same characters, and if you watch the trailer right to the end, at least one of the same catchphrases (though very creepily interpreted) but looks to have its narrative gaze quite precisely on the current catastrophic dangers facing the planet, dangers that in the future could force us, should we survive that long, to launch into the stars seeking long-term salvation.
The teaser trailer is crisp, taut and pretty damn terrific and augurs well for the series to come.
A series, it must be said, that needs to invest in a damn good GPS tracking system (or not, I guess, if they want that whole lost premise thing to stick) …
Lost in Space goes way off course on Netflix on 13 April.
When news first emerged that DC Comics were going to re-interpret a sizable array of Hanna-Barbera’s most iconic stars such as The Flintstones andScooby Doo and give them a modern makeover, there some doubt expressed that this could be achieved with any sort of creative substance.
After all, delightful though they were to watch in cartoon series of old, and though they had many an entertaining quality, pretty much every single character was reasonably cardboard cutout-ish, possessed of a few key attributes but not much in the way of backstory or meaningful insight.
But as these new reinterpretations demonstrated, it is possible to bring the slapstick jokesters of old and give them a serious new sheen and even say something worthwhile and socially aware, and The Snagglepuss Chronicles are Exhibit A for how brilliantly well this has been done. (To be fair The Flintstones and Scooby Doo also have some serious Exhibit A-cred going on.)
In this brave new Snagglepuss world, there is far less camp tomfoolery and no “Exit Stage Left!” to speak of, and a whole lot of serious introspection about the way society demands everyone fit into the same narrow mold, and how if they fail to do so, all hell can break loose upon their heads.
In The Snagglepuss Chronicles, the character once voiced by the great Daws Butler to deliciously flamboyantly rambunctious effect, is a much-vaunted 1950s playwright, a southern Gothic doyen of the creative arts who dresses like a dapper Southern gentleman (he hails from rural Mississippi) whose play “My Heart Is a Kennel of Thieves” is wrapping up a famously long-run on Broadway, is friends with Dorothy Parker, she of the Alonquin Table and who is, marriage to Lila Lion to the contrary, secretly gay and in love with the Cuban exile Pablo.
His is a life simultaneously lived in the glare of public adoration and in the shadows, a doting husband to stage actress Lila to keep the social gatekeepers happy and morally assuaged, and a caring boyfriend who meets his true partner at Stonewall in The Village in New York and wherever prying eyes aren’t lurking.
It’s a fraught existence in some respects but Snagglepuss has long ago made his peace with it; well as much peace as you can make with a dual existence that never allows you to lay down your guard.
How much of a balancing act this double-life is is brought home to Snagglepuss when his Southern novelist friend Huckleberry Hound arrives in town – against all expectations writer Mark Russell weaves in Huckleberry, Squiddly Diddly and Augie Doggie to impressive effect – recounting how he has been found to leave his marriage, child and entire life behind when his wife discovered his relationship with another man.
This revelation, which seems to do little to unsettle Snagglepuss’s cheeky, highly-literate bravado, throws the dilemma many men in 1950s America faced – be true to themselves and be ruined or flit between the light and shadows and hope notices you moving between the two.
The consequences as Huckleberry Hound demonstrates, and which Russell depicts with great sensitivity and insight, can be near cataclysmic, the end of all things as society, or that section of it that polices morality for dubious reasons, exacts its price for unacceptable transgressions.
The greater threat, and yes hard as it is to believe, there is a deadlier force at work, comes from the House Committee on Un-American Activities, Senator Joe McCarthy’s oppressively virulent crusade to keep America safe from the undemocratic tyranny of the much-ballyhooed communist hordes.
Of course, the supreme irony is that a crusade designed to supposedly protect democracy actually ended up running cruel and merciless roughshod over it, with many innocent people dragged through the personal and professional mud on some sort of demented crusade.
Snagglepuss’s friend, playwright Lillian Hellman is one such person, who describes her treatment this way in a conversation post-appearance with Snagglepuss:
“Were they terribly rough on you, dear?” “No, they were just shabby. Shabby little men in a shabby little room. They just want to make you shabby too.”
That conversation out on the terrace, cigarettes in hand, beautifully typifies Russell’s elegant style, which never comes close to being manipulatively polemic or rantingly clumsy.
Rather he allows his characters to simply live their lives, with their opponents and oppressors effectively hanging themselves on their own petards with their own actions and words.
It’s a masterful piece of storytelling that, coupled with exquisitely rich, colourful and evocative art by Mike Feehan, delivers up a stinging rebuke to the small minds and cold, judgmental hearts who position themselves as the arbiters of morality, ethics and human decency.
That they are obviously nothing of the sort becomes graphically clear in the first two sublime-good and confrontingly-nuanced issues of The Snagglepuss Chronicles with the decency and authenticity of the likes of the titular protagonist and a wide array of friends such as Huckleberry Hound, standing in stark contrast to the base shabbiness of McCarthy and his tawdry ilk.
Snaggelpuss, of course, wants nothing to do with Gigi Allen, Special Counsel to the House Committee on Un-American Activities when she calls him, at the Alonquin Table no less, to act as a propaganda mouthpiece for McCarthy’s attempts to remake America in his blighted, small “s” style.
He nails it with his pithy, take-down of what it is Allen and her accomplices in democracy-sabotaging are attempting to do:
“I think what you want is not my help but my capitulation.
“I think you don’t give two feathers about how some playwright from Mississippi might affect the outcome of World War Three. You’re not enlisting my help against the Soviets. You’re enlisting the Soviets to help you control what we say and do.
You are asking me for my pen and that I cannot give … it’s all I have.”
With that one speech, which occurs close the end of issue #2 and as you might expects ends nothing, Russell nails his and Snagglepuss’s colours firmly to the mast, setting up some thrilling and no doubt potently incisive issues ahead.
Think there might be some thematic corollaries between the re-imagined Snagglepuss and our troubled modern reality? You would be right and this video does a beautiful job of explaining it …
On a dystopian planet in the far reaches of the cosmos, an evil sentient mechanical entity known as the Mechno-Hive has enslaved the organic races as their labor force. By controlling an ancient and mysterious crystaline power source known as the Axiom, they exert their tyrannical will on the entire planet.
The fate and future of the planet, and it’s occupants lies in the hands of a young hero named Rake. It falls to Rake to learn to control the ultimate power of the Axiom for good, and bring peace to the world he calls home. (synopsis via Kickstarter)
It really doesn’t matter who you are, there’s something intensely appealing, almost magically inspiring about underdogs taking on dictatiorial rulers (well, unless you’re a monster tyrant occupying a position of unassailable power; then maybe not so much).
Star Wars made merry use, and still does, of the idea, as have countless other books, movies and TV shows, and now The Axiom Chronicles is joining the rebellious fray in all its transportive animated glory.
Theirs is an epic, against-the-odds, one its creators, Edison Creative will inspire you enough to join their Kickstarter campaign which is seeking funds to complete production on this imaginative sci-fi Western.
The Axiom Chronicles, the brainchild of Dillon Wheelock, is a passion project for the busy design studio based in Omaha, Nebraska, and so they need our help to make it a reality.
One glimpse of that trailer and you can’t help but play a part – the animation is sensational, the storyline gripping and the emotional impact off the scale.
Go join The Axiom Chronicles and keep the rebellion, and some pretty impressive creativity, alive.
SPOILERS AHEAD … AND THE BEGINNING OF A GRAND ADVENTURE … AND NAZIS WHO ARE NOBODY’S IDEA OF A GOOD TIME …
Many a wise person has remarked that some secrets are best left buried where they lie.
Now, you might think this attitude is sadly lacking in chutzpah and a willingness to boldly confront unpalatable or uncomfortable truths, but the reality is that dredging up the past comes with all kinds of messy, unforeseen complications.
Like the reappearance of age-old enemies.
And no, I’m not referring to old Aunt Joan and a predilection for sabotaging the best-laid plans of fellow family members.
In Stargate Origins, the first franchise series since Universe finished its abortive run after two seasons in 2011, the truth of this axiom is made abundantly clear when in 1929 humanity digs up a long-buried round metal circle whose purpose is manifestly hidden.
The human in question is one Professor Paul Langford (Connor Trinneer), an archaeologist who finds this curious object in the sands of Egypt in scenes first evoked in the first Stargate movie back in 1994 and who spends 10 years, along with his feisty daughter Catherine (Ellie Gall), trying to work out what on earth you use something this big, this metal (everything else from the period is made of stone) and this richly-decorated for.
No one can discern its use or meaning and so funding runs dry, stymieing any further investigation, and unbeknownst to the Langsfords or the rest of humanity, saving us from a renewal of alien subjugation which as the movie and Stargate SG1 demonstrated, is not the kind of thing you really want to revive.
The thing is, and of course there has to be a bad guy who knows everything the good guys don’t, the Nazis, in true Indiana Jones fashion – let’s be fair and admit that so pervasive is the legacy of cinema’s most swashbuckling and adventured-loving of archaeologists that avoiding being a little derivative is damn near impossible – have kind of figured it all out, having a hieroglyph that explains everything and yes, even a dialling device tucked away back in Berlin.
Dr. Wilhelm Brücke (Aylam Orian), a high-ranking Nazi officer and occultist, accompanied by soldierly goons and his filmmaker lover Eva Reinhardt (Sarah Navratil) has it all figured out and in the matter of a few hours one night gets the Stargate up-and-running, takes everyone to Abydos – except for Catherine who must get through later with her British soldier beau Captain James Beal (Philip Alexander) and his colleague Wasif (Shvan Aladdin) – and meets, ta-dah!, the Goa’uld in the form of Aset (Salome Azizi).
The Goa’uld are naturally warm, accommodating and thoroughly pleased to see everyone … haha kidding; in fact, without so much as by-your-leave, Amet kills one of the Nazis and makes it clear that whatever Brücke thought he was getting from his journey through the stargate, it’s not going to be on his terms.
Not even a little bit.
So begins humanity’s first modern trip through the stargate, the first since the ancient people of Egypt rebelled against their cruel alien masters and buried the gate to stop them coming through.
The interesting part about the gate being activated in Origins is that we are given the quite distinct impression in the originalStargate movie that Langford and her father never managed to activate the gate with Catherine noting to Daniel Jackson that “this is as far as we have ever been able to get”.
Now normally fiddling with canon is a great big no-no – witness the way in which Disney did a big clearing out of Star Wars canon as part of the recent re-launch of the series – but I am guessing narrative convenience won out over canon adherence in this instance since a prequel like Origins is crying out for an activated stargate, if only to fuel the Indiana Jones look and feel of the series.
You could well argue that Langford omits the fact that she and her father, courtesy of the Nazis, managed to activate the stargate back at the start of World War Two since that may have been some sort of state secret.
Still given how top secret the stargate remains in the modern day, with presumably all the information on past endeavours to start it up, it’s a wonder they’re not aware of the 1939 activation.
I am assuming that as the ten-part series goes on that we will be provided with some sort of explanation about why noone in 1994 knows about what happened 55 years earlier, and I am betting it will come to a big old neverending embargo of some kind.
However the old and new canon come to an accommodation, Stargate Origins made merry with the stargate being turned on, with each 8-12 episode ending on a perfect cliffhanger, each mini-tale neatly segueing into the next, much like the movie shorts of old.
The only downside to these rollicking prequel episodes, which feature Langford as a woman very much able to look after herself thank you (and way braver than the men who assist but aren’t required to save her), is that the episodes are far too short.
Not in the sense that they are badly made or lacking in good, solid narrative construction- they are taut, beautifully-paced storytelling at its best – but simply far too brief when you used to luxuriating in 45 minutes episodes for SG-1, Atlantis and Universe.
It’s less an issue with the quality of the storytelling, of which there is none, and more, as a fan, that I simply want more stargate.
In 40 magical minutes it was all over, and while each episode segued damn near perfectly into the next, building tension and narrative momentum, and there are seven more episodes to look forward to, it just feel all too ephemeral and quick.
Still better 10 quick episodes than nothing at all, and we should be thankful that we are the beneficiaries of a part of the Stargate story only explored in passing in past movies and films.
On balance too what we are getting is a whole new Stargate movie and I look forward to watching as one full uninterrupted adventure when all 10 episodes have debuted.
To get the episodes beyond the initial three you do need to sign to Stargate Command (plus pay $31), the streaming service for the franchise, an annoyance given the plethora of streaming services currently on offer.
But given storytelling this good and immersively-realised, that adds to the Stargate franchise in some interesting and compelling ways, it’s worth the money especially with all the extra goodies thrown in too.
Stargate Origins is overall a gripping little narrative nugget that augurs for the return of this much-loved franchise to our screens – much smaller than they used to be! – and perhaps, if successful, and it has no reason not to be, a far more expansive addition to this galaxy-spanning, highly-imaginative and endlessly malleable series of adventures.
What lies ahead in the rest of the season? Why this, of course … don’t get excited it’s but a 40-second teaser; it does confirm, however, that some things are best left buried nice and deep … FOREVER …
An out of commission satellite picks up a lovelorn ballad on her radio antenna and descends to Earth to find the source of such sincere emotions. But on the way she is caught in the crossfire of a raging magical battle and is transformed into Satellite Girl, complete with Astro Boy-like rocket shoes and weapon-firing limbs. Meanwhile, the balladeer in question – a loser 20 something at a café open mic – meets the fate that befalls all broken-hearted lovers: he is turned into a farm animal. But love knows no bounds, and aided by the wise and powerful Merlin – a wizard who has been turned into a roll of toilet paper – our duo must evade the all-consuming incinerator monster, the wily pig witch, and other nefarious adversaries in an attempt to be together. From the brilliant and slightly twisted mind of writer/director Chang Hyung-yun, Satellite Girl and Milk Cow is a heartfelt and wildly entertaining commentary on the possibility for human connection in the crazy, mixed-up, post-modern world we live in. (synopsis via Flickering Myth)
In my own peculiarly offbeat world, there is nothing finer than a wholly original, off-the-charts quirky premise that looks like its been realised with just the right amount of poignancy and heart to give it the requisite amount of emotionally-resonant substance.
Hyeong-yoon Jang’s Satellite Girl and Milk Cow, quite possibly one the most sweetly absurdly love stories to ever come our way, is as fine as it gets in gorgeously bizarro land with a satellite-turned-girl and boy-turned-cow falling in love, and aided, as you would fully expect and support by a sentient roll of toilet paper.
If this all sounds too Beavis and Butthead wacky for your tastes, do yourself a favour and watch the trailer which confirms the oddity of the concept but also strongly suggest that this is one sweetly charming, heart-tugging film that you will in love with just as quickly and completely as the characters do with each other.
And we aren’t the only ones besotted with this beautiful tale.
Take David Jesteadt, the president of GKIDS’ who has won the right to distribute the film in North America (no word of an Aussie release at this time):
“It is safe to say that you are unlikely to have ever seen anything like this movie before-a truly original, fantasy anime sci-fi rom-com, just bursting with humor and heart. I’m hoping as many people as possible get the opportunity to see this remarkable film.”
Quite how much we fall head over heels remains to be seen but if this delightful trailer is any guide, it will be hard.
Satellite Girl and Milk Cow bring their idiosyncratically adorable love story will be finding its way to cinemas and home DVD release this northern Summer.