All our yesterdays.

 

Yesterday was a sad day - Leonard Nimoy passed away at the age of 83.

The character of Spock as portrayed by Nimoy is arguably one of the most iconic and recognized science fiction characters. He’s the first mainstream alien, he represents an enviable philosophy of logic and thought, but was always seen as a character with hidden depths and passions - after all, it isn’t that Vulcans lack emotion, but rather that they control them. 

But it seems so unfortunate to define Nimoy’s life and career by a single character, although that seemed to be his fate for many many years. Nimoy discussed his ambiguous relationship with his green-blooded alter ego in two books: I Am Not Spock in 1975, and I Am Spock twenty years later in 1995.

As the second title would seem to indicate, time heals all wounds, and as time passed Nimoy came to terms with his inescapable link to this single role from his professional portfolio, embraced it, laughed about it, and ultimately accepted it as a part of who he was.

Regardless, rather than say goodbye to Spock, let us say farewell to Leonard Nimoy:  actor, photographer, artist, musician, director, writer, husband, father, and human being.

- Sid

The God-Emperor's new clothes.

I was raping Frank Herbert, raping, like this!  But with love, with love.

Alejandro Jodorowsky, Jodorowosky’s Dune

I’ve just finished watching Jodorowsky’s Dune, a documentary dealing with the legendary failed attempt by Alejandro Jodorowsky to make a film version of Frank Herbert’s classic science fiction novel in 1975. 

Jodoworsky’s production of Dune is a bit like the Holy Grail of science fiction film making, a mystical, almost mythical event that is surrounded by mystery and legend.  For years, bits and pieces of the pre-production work have been floating around: sketches, paintings, storyboards, costume designs, casting and location choices.  This documentary provides a clear view of the process whereby Jodorowsky made his decisions, and offers fascinating insights into one of the most unique and creative film making minds of the 20th century.

However, simply because something is a documentary, that doesn’t mean that it’s unbiased. The greater part of Jodorowsky’s Dune features Jodorowsky speaking about the project, with additional commentary by the producer for the film, Michel Seydoux, conceptual artists H.R. Giger and Chris Foss, and film directors Richard Stanley and Nicholas Winding Refn.  They are unanimous in their praise of the project, describing it as being literally ahead of its time and a great lost opportunity.

What the documentary does not feature is any sort of input from people speaking about the less positive aspects of the production.

Jodorowsky’s script is a million miles away from Frank Herbert’s novel, by everyone’s admission - including Jodorowsky’s. Herbert’s Dune is a brilliant combination of politics, sociology, ecology and religion, but it is firmly grounded in its own reality. Jodorowsky envisioned it as a mystical journey with completely different background, narrative, and climax, which might have been an incredible viewing experience, but which might as well have had a different title as far as its connection to the original.  In fact, Jodorowsky would go on to collaborate with one of the design team, French fantasy artist Jean Giraud, to create a graphic story entitled The Incal which would utilize exactly the same plot elements that appear in his Dune script.

Pre-production was littered with odd examples of excess and indulgence. Jodorowsky speaks blithely of enlisting Orson Welles to play the malevolent Baron Harkonnen by agreeing to hire the head chef from the restaurant where Welles was eating and having him cook for Welles every single day.  Dali, who was to play the Padishah Emperor, was to have been paid $100,000 per minute of his performance, and also demanded a personal helicopter and a flaming giraffe.

Other sources state that when Frank Herbert travelled to Europe in 1976, two million dollars had already been spent on the pre-production planning without even having a contract.  When the script and the lavish production concept book were finally circulated in Hollywood, the studios were polite but definite in their uniform rejection of the entire idea as impractical and unproducible, especially with Jodorowsky at the helm of the project. 

Ultimately, I found that Jodorowsky’s Dune was rather like an inversion of the classic fable from Aesop about the fox and the grapes - instead in this case the grapes would have been the most incredible grapes ever tasted, grapes that would have redefined what grapes meant to the world, grapes that would have altered the perception of a generation of grape-eaters - if only it had been possible to obtain them!

Or it's entirely possible that the grapes - and the movie - would ultimately have proven to be sour after all.

- Sid

"Everybody wants to rule the world."

I’ve just finished re-reading Out on Blue Six, by Ian McDonald, which presents us with McDonald’s take on 1984:  the Benevolent Society, in which everyone is happy – or else.  People are assigned to the job which will make them happiest, matched with their perfectly compatible life companion, and placed into the caste which best suits their psychological makeup.  Causing pain, physical OR emotional, is a crime – a paincrime – which in standard Orwellian fashion is policed by the Ministry of Love.

However, as with most dystopias, the Benevolent Society is flawed. The job which is guaranteed to make you happy may not be the job you have wanted with all your heart for as long as you can remember, something which may challenge and frustrate you, but which fulfills your dreams.  Perfect compatibility does not equal love.  Children are separated from parents in the interests of caste divisions, never to see each other again.  And a society without any kind of pain is a society without empathy, without sacrifice, without progress.

At the end of the novel, the godlike, all-powerful AIs that rule the world award complete control over the Benevolent Society to a ragtag band of artistic rebels, and they begin the slow process of returning some disorder and unpredictability to the world, making it better by making it worse.

So here’s your challenge for the day. I’m going to wave my magic wand, or anoint you, or pull your number out of a very large hat. You, YOU, are the unchallenged ruler of the world.  Your authority is complete, although it is not magical. You cannot repeal the law of gravity* or make time run backward. If you decide that you want a one-inch deep trench that stretches along the entire U.S. Canada border, resources must be assembled, funds allocated, people hired.  (Training is probably minimal, although you never know.)

What would you do?

Given the nature of, well, human nature, there will probably be some moments of excess, as per Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty.  But once those initial moments of self-indulgence were out of the way, imagine the possibilities!

The entire military budget of the United States could be reassigned to solving the problems of cancer and AIDS.  The massive political structures of the Western world, the congresses and parliaments, rationalized and reduced and the excess capital reassigned to free health care and free education.

However, here's the real question. As above, your legislative control is universal, but you can't perform magic.  How many of the conflicts and struggles currently plaguing the world are the result of cultural and religious differences that you couldn't just tell to go away?  Would a law against war actually stop wars?  Hmmm....maybe we do need to keep some of the soldiers....and there's the beginning of the end. Damn, it looked so promising there for a minute.

Oh well, we can always try again.

So here’s your challenge for the day.  I’m going to wave my magic wand, or anoint you, or pull your number out of a very large hat. You, YOU, are the unchallenged ruler of the world...

- Sid

*  There's an H.G. Wells short story entitled The Man Who Could Work Miracles which accurately addresses the difficulties of possessing ultimate power without a clear understanding of physics.  

"Stand back, I'm going to try science!"

I have just started dating a fabulous woman named Karli.  This post could easily be just about that, she is an extraordinary person* and I'm very happy and a little bit in shock, but I'll try to stay on topic.

We had our First Official Date** on Friday, and the venue was a surprise for me.  Karli had mysteriously asked if I liked science, and my reply was "Yes, of course."  And then I said, "But don't tell me anything else, I'd like to be surprised."

In the fullness of time, Friday arrived, and after dinner I found myself happily standing in line at Science World, located at the east end of False Creek.  In the ten years I've been living in Vancouver, I've never made my way to Science World - I'd seen hordes of small children surrounding the building when I've walked by, and that had left me with the impression that it was pretty much a kid's attraction.

Little did I know that, as with many similar attractions around the world, Science World presents an After Dark evening event on a regular basis, for which the age limit is 19+, and alcohol is served.

So, in we went, and spent the next three hours, drinks in hand, exploring the various interactive exhibits - hampered only slightly by the knee-level child-friendly setup for most of them.

Given that science fiction is at least half science***, I think it's common that a lot of SF fans keep in touch with scientific developments.  After all, things like the exploration of Mars by robots or landing probes on comets were science fiction topics twenty years ago, and it's gratifying to see how we are slowly moving toward the realization of that science fiction future, the one in which we begin to explore more and more of our solar system and perhaps even start living on other planets. 

But in some ways this is also a challenging time for the scientific community.  The cover story on this month's National Geographic sums it up:

 

How strange and unexpected is it that we can be standing here on the edge of the universe, just starting to reach out and touch it, explore it, learn about it, and there are people who are presumably educated and otherwise intelligent who are unable to accept the basic physical truths of that universe? 

But there's hope.  After all, when NASA first posted a live video feed from Mars, the volume of interest was so high that it repeatedly crashed their servers.  Retired Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield has 1.28 million followers on Twitter™.  And on Friday night, I shared Science World with a genial, happy group of people who thought it would be a fun thing to spend Friday night playing science games.

Thanks again, Karli, I had a wonderful time.

- Sid

* She is smart, clever, perceptive, and gorgeous - based on votes to date, at least, six people have voted gorgeous, one beautiful.  Okay, seven people, I'm going to vote gorgeous as well.

** Previous to Friday we were in beta testing.  User comments were favourable.

*** Well, by letter count, exactly half, but that's not really how it works.

Toadies, Sycophants, and Lickspittles.

There's a particular cliché that seems to have become a fixture in adventure movies: the villain's cringing, cowardly sidekick, who licks his master's boots while abusing all below him.  These cardboard characters tend to suffer from bad dental hygiene and blemished skin, often provide comedic relief, and generally come to a bad end. In The Mummy, it's Beni, with his ambiguous accent and fez; in The Two Towers, it's Grimà Wormtongue, who comes to a much worse end in the book; and In The Battle of the Five Armies, the final segment of The Hobbit film trilogy, this character is Alfrid, flunky to the Master of Laketown.

Alfrid is thoroughly detestable. He abuses women and cripples, he sleeps on guard duty, he disguises himself as a crone to avoid fighting the orcs, and is despised by one and all.  Astonishingly, he seems to make a clean getaway at the end, sneering at the bravery of Bard the Bowman and escaping with his false bosom stuffed with gold to boot.

Seeing Alfrid march off triumphantly in the movie, it occurred to me that I'd like to see one of these one-dimensional toadies achieve redemption - can't we let one of them rise above themselves, just once?

At one point in The Battle of the Five Armies, orcs are overrunning the town of Dale, and every able-bodied man is locked in desperate combat except for Alfrid, who has concealed himself in an alcove to avoid discovery.   Exposed by circumstances, he is put in charge of the evacuation of the women, children and wounded by Bard, who presents him with a sword and sends him on his way.

Of course Alfrid ditches the weapon and pushes aside the weak and elderly to ensure his own safety, but let's imagine for a moment that the story went a bit differently.

There's a scene shortly afterwards where Bard sees his children menaced by a troll - Bard is a hundred feet away, and it's obvious that there's no possible way for him to reach his family in time to save them.  As in all of the Hobbit movies, the scriptwriter's solution is improbable physics, with Bard leaping onto a nearby cart and riding it down the street in a bouncing, unrealistic roller-coaster ride that eventually stops the troll in its tracks and saves the day.

But imagine that instead of Bard rescuing the children, Alfrid had just for one moment found his courage and taken action, used the sword he'd been given and attacked the troll.

I don't demand that he succeed, he only needs to distract and delay the monster long enough for Bard to save both the children and Alfrid. I don't want him to be killed, either.  All I want to see is that moment when he overcomes his cowardice, that moment when he realizes that he can be more than he is.

And on that basis, some less clichéd naming conventions would be a big help for these poor souls.  Imagine how differently Aragorn son of Arathorn would have been viewed if his name had been Alfrid Lickspittle.

- Sid