Author Archives: Bob Evans

TV Series Review: TABOO

Recently my sweetie-wife and I finished season one of the FX series Taboo. Starring Tom Hardy who produced it along with Ridley Scott and Steven Knight the story takes place in 1814 London and is a gritty tale of treasure, treason, and slavery. Hardy plays James Keziah Delaney, a man who has returned home to find his father dead and quickly becomes into conflict with both the Crown and the power East India Company. Delaney has inherited his father failing shipping company and a property desperately desired by not only the Crown and the East India Company, but the Americans, currently engaged with England in the war of 1812, also will stop at nothing to steal it away.

The first season follows Delaney as he assembled a team of thieves, orphans, and charlatans to challenge the great powers aligned against him. Throw into the mix a half sister, played by Oona Chaplin, with whom James has an unconventional relationship, and Taboo becomes a story with passion, savagery, and heavy doses of cynicism. It is very nearly a noirset in 1814 England. The main character is hardly a person of admirable character. Delaney is a man who lets no one and nothing, not even lifelong relationships, stand between himself and his objectives. One should not look to this series for examples of moral characters and lessons in ethical actions. The series strongly suggests a supernatural undertone but never lets this subtext overpower the muddy realism of the piece.

One aspect that particularly pleased me about the season one was that it ended on a note that leaves it open for more stories but with enough closure that it can also be suitable as a self-contained story. I detest the trend for season cliffhangers. Too often the conclusions are far from satisfying.

Now that we have finished Taboo our next television adventure will be AMC’s adaptation of Dan Simmons’ The Terror.

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A Different Recollection

Seventeen years on this date old the World changed forever. Others will be more eloquent and more analytical about the importance and reverberations echoing from that terrible evil act and I will leave such remembrances to their skillful prose. So, not to ignore but to reflect on a happier occasion I’m going to post about the only party I ever went to during my high school years.

In high school I was very much a loner, I had a small tight circle of friends, but the larger social environment simply was alien. Because of that I don’t have the usual American experience of attending games, proms, or parties held while a student’s parents had departed for an evening or weekend. However there was one exception to this, my acting class.

In my senior year, 1979, as an elective I took a class in acting taught by the engaging Mrs. Linda Crumbo. It was a fun and lively class and one where I even slipped in a bit of my own original writing as a prose piece that I performed. The class was small, we became friends, and towards the end of 1978 it was planned that there would be party held at Mrs Crumbo’s house. Her husband had been wrangled by members of the class to arrange things so that the party would surprise to Linda. The event’s evening arrived and I rode out to the party with four classmates, among our little troupe was Roberta and Pam who during the entire drive out discussed a horror film, Halloween,  that they had recently gone out and watched.

The drive I must tell you was not an urban one. We drove through darkened wood on a small two-lane road with only the car’s headlights for illumination. Pam and Roberta recounted to film with great detail and the tension in the car grew as we transverse the dark and somewhat threatening forest. Eventually we arrived at Linda’s two-story wood-frame house.

Every window was dark.

We sat for a few moments debating how to proceed. Naturally someone had to go to the door and find out what was going on but after the tales of violence and murder no one wanted to venture alone from the car. The wood seemed to close in around the house and around us. Several more moments passed and together we got out of the car and crowded around the door, knocking loudly. A second story window illuminated and footsteps proceeded down the stairs and to the door. Linda Crumbo, a robe closed around her, her eyes bleary from sleep, her blond hair disheveled, opened the door.

“We’re having a party!”

I’m not sure who or how many shouted that as greeting and the scrum of students invaded her house. Nearly at once we encountered her husband, half way down the interior staircase and her said. “I forgot!’

The Crumbos got dressed and a pleasant party filled the remainder of the evening hours. This was not a drunken bacchanal and it is one of my more pleasant memories from that time.

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Flashing That ‘Secret’ White Power Symbol

This week’s confirmation hearing for SCOTUS nominee Brett ‘I’ve changed my mind’ Kavanaugh has reignited the ‘debate’ over a supposed ‘secret’ white supremacist hand gesture. As the word ‘reignited’ indicated this is a fake controversy that has been visited before. Vox has an excellent article explaining the history of the live trolling and how it started. This has been spreading around the Internet faster than heated opinions about geeky media spurred onwards by a large dose of accepting anything that confirms preexisting biases. In addition to pointing people towards the Vox article I have a couple of thoughts on the matter.

First off the very concept of a public but secret symbol to identify one as a member of an ideological group seems quite ridiculous. Certainly secret symbols and identifiers, handshakes and the like, have existed and continue to exist, but they were used, primarily, as a method of revealing oneself as part of one-on-one interactions. So that someone could know that they had a friendly audience before revealing the secret part of themselves. Public gestures and identifiers have a very different purpose and that is to proclaim, loudly, where one stands in respect to an ideological concept, the Nazi Salute, the Black Power Raised Fist, the MAGA hat, and the Lapel Flag Pin all serve the same purpose for different factions, announcing ‘I am here and this is what I stand for.’ A gesture, particularly when is seems out of context, performed publicly creates interest and curiosity from those not part of the communication which defeats the entire concept of secret. It however perfectly aligns with the idea of ‘trolling’ taking actions in order to provoke a reaction.

And before I leave this thought on the absurdity of secret public signs let me also point out that in my opinion nothing about this administration or its devotees has anything in common with subtlety. Steven Bannon, Steven Miller, Richard Spencer, or Donald Trump have no need for secret communications as they loudly and blatantly announce who they are and what they believes quite often.

Another aspect of this is that the meanings of symbols can change over time. Because some people are in on the trolling gag does not mean that everyone is or that new people will adopt the symbol in the same manner.

Take for example the word ‘gunsel.’ In many film noir movies the term is used to describe a low-level thug with a gun, as a synonym for gunslinger. However that is not how it started. In the classic film The Maltese Falcon Spade provokes Wilmer into a rash angry action by referring to him as a ‘gunsel.’ It seems strange that Wilmer reacted so angrily to simply begin called a gun slinger but what Spade, Wilmer, the writers knew is that ‘gunsel’ doesn’t mean gun slinger it means the submissive partner in a homosexual relationship, specifically it is slang from the hobo community. The Breen Office did not the meaning no did most of the audience and the filmmakers flew under the radar with their code violating insult. Over time other writers and filmmaker, taking the definition from their misunderstanding of the context used the word to mean gunman and the new definition became the accepted one.

I believe that most of the people flashing the hand-sign are in on the plan to troll others, but you cannot be certain that everyone is aware of the purpose. Certainly as time passes and the reports grow that the OK hand gesture is really a racist one then there may come a day when the new definition and intent supplants the original intent.

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What Did You Expect?

A few weeks ago I came across an article at National Review Online, Corporate Gun Control Might Be the Worst Threat to Gun Rights, and with this week’s announcement by Levi Strauss with respect to their corporate stance on the nation’s gun issues I thought it might be worth revisiting the topic.

The article by David French cites a number of victories for the gun right’s faction of the debate before going into the central thesis of the pieces that actions by corporations taken outside of the political sphere represent a new front in the eternal conflict over firearms in the United States. French asserts that the motion on these large companies on the issue is, in his opinion, driven principally by the cliquish nature of their management. In the case of companies such as Facebook or Twitter, which are helmed by dynamic charismatic persons, he may be correct, but that doesn’t apply to large publicly held companies such as Levi Strauss, Bank of America, or Citigroup; these companies are driven by their board of directors and their focus is the bottom line. If such corporations such as these are taking a divisive political stance it is because they believe that being seen as neutral or on the opposing side would be more disadvantageous than the position that they publicly asserted. These behemoths are cautious and never the vanguard of social movements. These positions are ones taken, in their estimation, which will cause the least damage to their public images.

Why is that? Why do they feel pressured to take a position at all?

Because for many people the current environment is intolerable. What appears to be a steady, deadly, and endless parade of mass shooting, murder, and terror, even as I write this reports are breaking of a fresh mass shooting, coupled with inaction by the political process, instills fear in the population. We live in a time when children come home traumatized because they practiced hiding from their killers as part of their school day. Given that sort of experience people will demand that something be done. Eventually the paradigm breaks and new things, right or wrong, good or bad, will be deployed. In that situation a platitude about ‘thoughts and prayers’ will not quell the fear, sooth the anxiety, and placate the anger. Here we get to the failure on the conservative side.

Not in enacting the legislation proposed or favored by their political opponents, but by their inaction, their refusal to take any action that can be seen as even attempting to resolve the issue/ Now some may claim moves such as Must Issue laws for concealed carry permits or Castle Doctrine laws, or wide acceptance of Open Carry are solutions proposed by the conservatives, but they are not proposal intended as solutions for this issue. If we were living in a culture without these mass murders, random killings, and schoolhouse slaughters, these exact same proposals would remain on the Conservative whish list. They are goals that their political faction wishes to achieve regardless of the current criminal climate and tying them to the issue is an act of rationalization not resolution.

So in a climate of growing terror and trauma one side in a political debate offers legislative solutions, setting aside if such solutions would resolve anything at all, that is not the point, while the offers nothing but at best a wish list of things it already wanted, and some are surprised by which side grows in public sympathy? This is a bed of the Conservatives making, refusing to do anything yields the field to the opponents and while procedural power may hold legislation at bay, and that is a fleeting situation, the culture, including the corporation taking the pulse of the public mood, moves on and to quote a silly but favorite film, ‘You can be a part of it or a victim of it.’

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Movie Review: Rampage

I’ve had the disc from Netflix for several weeks but over the last couple of nights I finally got around to watching the expected silly summer movie Rampage.Based on the coin operated video game from the 1980’s, a game without any form of narrative, the movie stars Dwayne Johnson, Naomie Harris, Malin Akerman, and a scene stealing performance by Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

Rampage  centers on the relationship between Davis Okoye (Johnson) and the albino gorilla George in his care at the San Diego Wildlife Sanctuary (apparently our zoological society did not participate in the film.)  After George is exposed to evil genetic editing super stuff he grows in size and aggression. Developed by an evil corporation doing evil corporation things for evil military applications, this movie is far from subtle, the contaminate also infects a wolf and an alligator. The Head of the evil corporation, Claire Wyde (Akerman) uses a homing beacon to bring the animal to her facility, located in the Sears Tower in downtown Chicago. (Because bringing enraged, overly aggressive, giant monsters to you is always a good plan.) Okoye is helped by a renegade scientist from the Evil Corporation, Caldwell (Harris) and a government agent Russell (Morgan) as they attempt to stop the rampage and return George to his normal peaceful self. Of course this terminates in a grand Kaiju  battle in downtown Chicago with the monsters destroying building (that got you points in the game) and eating people (which got you even more points.)

Rampage  is the sort of film where it is best to leave one’s higher reasoning faculties in the lobby and is enjoyable based upon the performances and the action. On those criteria the movie works. The giant monsters wrecking havoc in a major metropolitan locale is done quite well, though there are moments when the CGI FX are not quite as good as they could have been. On the subject of performances most are good enough. This is not the sort of material that normally allows an actor to shine but instead usually requires that specialized talent for delivery jargon-filled exposition. Harris performs perfectly well as the ‘good’ scientists and Akerman seems to enjoy chewing scenery as the lead villain of the story. I’ll have to agree with the Youtube movie critic MovieBob that Dwayne Johnson has too much natural charisma to pull off playing someone who hates people. Throughout the movie he is charming, and a delight to watch but the real standout performance is Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Russell. Deploying some sort of Texan/Southern accent Morgan steals every scene. The script requires him to enter as an antagonist and flip to becoming an ally and this role reversal Morgan pulls off without ever feeling like he violated his character. Frankly I could watch an entire movie of Morgan playing this character.

This movie doesn’t carry any deeper message or theme such as in 1954’s Gojira but rather is simply a fun action filled story suitable for when you really do not want to think about anything.

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Horrible Imaginings 2018

This year the Horrible Imaginings Film Festival, a celebration of horror cinema, moved from its home in San Diego to the Frida Theater in Santa Ana in Orange County. In previous years I had attended the full festival, driving to the venue each morning and then back home again late in the evening. With Santa Ana about a 90-minute drive from home and with the expenses of World Con incurred just earlier in the month I felt that this year I could only attend a single day.

The drive up was pleasant enough and there was ample parking near the venue. I must admit that the venue itself, The Frida Cinema a non-profit dedicated to the cinema arts, is a lovely theater. It presents two screens with comfortable seating and a large impressive screen. I was told that the Frida has been trying to woo the festival up from San Diego for a number of years. Unlike the Festival’s previous venue the Museum of Photographic Arts, the Frida sells concessions and for me a movie is always a better experience with popcorn.

The days started with a short film block presenting a number of intriguing, intelligent, and well-made films. While I enjoyed quite a few of them my favorite from this block was Roake about a photographer that made his subjects with a single photo in famous celebrities, but of course there is always a price.

The next block was long form short film. That is short movies that run longer than most short but still far short of a feature length presentation. These tended to be 20 to 30 minutes long and for the stand out presentation was The Quiet Room,  a movie that explored mental health, and our own self-destructive tendencies.

The first feature film of the day was The Returning a movie from Malaysia that dealt with ghosts but literal and figurative that haunted a small town after a terrible tragedy. The feature was preceded by a few more shorts including a haunting animated featurePhototaxisthat explored the myth of the Mothman.

Follow The Returning was a presentation by an academic about afrofuturism and race in horror media. It made me wish I could take his course it sounded very fascinating.

After a dinner break we returned for the final Feature of the evening, Vampire Clay. From Japan this film was easily one of the oddest horror movie I have ever watched. Set in a small art prep school in the countryside with a small class of student s hoping to get accepted into the hyper-competitive big universities their lives are disrupted by a mound of clay that lusts for blood and recognition. Aside from one-third act info-dump that brought the narrative momentum to a halt Vampire Clay was an enjoying if not odd horror movie.

They closed the festival with a screening Wes Craven’s The Serpent and the Rainbow, but with a 90 minute drive ahead of me I skipped out on that and drove home. Next year I plan to see more of the festival in its new home.

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Let’s Talk About Thanos

Avengers: Infinity War has sparked debate and most of that debate, when it is not centered around Peter Quill’s actions, has focused on Thanos, his emotional life and his objective. For me I had not issues with Thanos either in his motivation, his plan, or his twisted, destructive, and maladjusted emotional landscape. This essay is more about how I see it and not how you should. I am not trying to convince you that I am ‘right’ and you, if you do not agree, are ‘wrong.’ In the matter of art no honest reaction can be wrong, it is how the piece resonated with you.

Naturally this post will contain spoilers but I will try to moderate them as much as possible; proceed at your own risk.

Is Love Objective?

This is the critical question when considering Thanos and his relation to his children, particularly when we look at his daughters, Gamora and Nebula. That Thanos is an abusive character is without question. Throughout their lives Thanos pitted the two daughters against each other in violent combat, making the loser, always Nebula, suffer surgical alteration and mechanical implants to ‘strengthen’ her. Gamora he stole from her home after murdering half of it population. That both of these woman emerged with any sort of functional moral compass is a testament to their strength of character. Thanos always favored Gamora, rebuking Nebula’s status in her presence by referring to Gamora as his ‘favorite daughter.’ When confronted by the guardian of the Soul Stone Thanos murders his favorite daughter to posses the Infinity Stone, but did he love her?

Can love be measured any outside observer? Is there a test for when a person loves another that can be objectively quantified? I do not think so.

Let me be clear, in my book abuse is never ever love. Thanos does not live by my book. Thanos, a character warped and twisted by trauma seems incapable of any true empathy and mistakes his anger, his displacement, and his terrible abuse for sympathy, for caring, for love. In that terrible when confronted by the Red Skull Thanos believes that he loves Gamora, his belief drives that scene not the objective reality that he is a terrible abuser. It is a quintessential example of the villain being the hero of their own story. Gamora is right when she says that Thanos does not, by any definition that an emotionally healthy person would use, love, but Thanos’ truth is not ours. Thanos is so twisted by his own trauma he is incapable of recognizing his true nature is it any surprise he cannot tell love from abuse?

Does Thanos’ Plan make any Logical Sense?

In a word, no, but when does logic matter to someone who has already become convince that they are right? Again to me the answer is in Thanos’ own trauma, the destruction of his home and the death of his people. Once Thanos became certain of his own vindication no amount of logic or objective fact could dissuade him. We can look around at our real world and see Thanos reflected from all too human behavior over and over again. Perhaps there had been a time when a reasonable person could doubt the safety of modern vaccines but that time has long since passed. Look around on line and you can find a photo of smiling women still promoting the idiotic and thoroughly disproved theory that vaccines harm, they are children of Thanos. There was a time when one could have legitimate doubts about climate change but every argument against humanity changing the climate has failed but those who cling bitterly to their denials are the children of Thanos. There was never a time when you could credibly believe in a vast world wide conspiracy that Jewish people controlled everything and yet the Nazi believed it so utterly that when the Enabling Act made Hitler into the dictator Gobbles Goebbels write in his diary that they were ‘free’ they too were children of Thanos. Certainty becomes monomania and impervious to reality this is the core of Thanos’ plan to ‘save’ the Universe. He knows he is right and there is no confluence of facts or logic that can dissuade him from his crusade.

These two elements strengthen not weaken the power and impact of Marvel’s Avengers: Infinity War.

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A Hectic Week

The week is not yet completed and already I must declare that is has been terribly hectic. Monday, in addition to the usual baggage that comes with the start of a work week followed two very short weeks that surrounded the World SF Convention, making the return to the day job just a tad more tiring than usual. Things really got interesting Monday evening/Tuesday morning.

At 2:14 am Tuesday morning the power to our condo building failed. It had apparently flickered a little earlier, enough to set our electronic telephone beeping, waking both my sweetie-wife, and me but after the incessant beeping awoke us things looked fine. The full failure of course not only stopped the air conditioning but my CPAP machine as well. After years of using its therapy to treat my apnea trying to sleep without it proved very stressful. I awoke from my turbulent slumber Tuesday morning with a migraine.

Outside out building five SDG&E trucks and their crews, including a crane, were busily working to restore the electric service. Luckily the migraine medication worked quickly and I was able to report to work.

Naturally the stress, the headache, and the lack of sleep made that Tuesday a particularly long work day and distorting the day’s duration even more it was the day of our ‘all hands’ meeting. Dull at the best of time the long session of reports on the company’s plans and achievements wore quite thin.

I wish I could say that returning home that evening meant nothing but easy relaxation but that would not be true. While the power flowed again in our building I faced a submission deadline. Pitch Wars is a program that joins aspiring author with experienced professional author is help them polish their manuscripts, query letters, and culminate with an agents showcase, this year I needed to take part in the program. In order to get my material in I need to submit them Tuesday night, the deadline expired on Wednesday at 7 P.M. local time and I return from my day job about 6:15 leaving precious little time to submit. It had to be Tuesday or not at all. So stressed, exhausted, and with a headache I cut a three page synopsis down to a single page, got the rest of the application in order and sent it off.

I am hoping that the rest of the week proves to be easier and that on Sunday when I attend the Horrible Imaginings Film Festival this rush non-stop week will allow me a few hours of simple terror.

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John McCain 1936-2018

Over the weekend Senator John McCain of Arizona died from a brain cancer. There are many reasons to honor his service, both as a military pilot and officer, and as a public servant. There are also a number of reasons to criticize and critique his service, particularly in

Official Portrait wikicommons licence

the field of politics. Like all human beings he was a flawed person with mistakes in judgment and character. If you want to honor him or critique him as the nation considers the years he dedicated to it that is, beautifully, your right and your privilege.

I certainly had numerous disagreements with some of his judgment calls and I believe that there were too many times when he placed party loyalty over the good of the nation and the people of his state but I can also respect that courage with which he faces nearly incomprehensible adversity, of which his more than five years are a prisoner of war, tortured and denied proper medical care surely ranks as the most severe. McCain’s refusal to take an early release that his captors sought for propaganda purposes is truly heroic, a word too easily over used.

The Grim Reaper tried many times to take McCain, a number of aircraft that he piloted ended up as wrecks and he managed to survive. He was at the epicenter of the deadly fire aboard the USS Forrestal, which claimed the lives of 134 sailors and burned out of control for more than 24 hours. Cancer haunted him and in the end claimed the prize for its master, Death, but though his sense of humor remained a corny one, McCain kept it throughout his tough and difficult life.

He made many mistakes, some that we live with the consequences of today and will continue to suffer for many years to come, but he stepped up and served and there are far too many unwilling to do that.

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Thoughts on Jaynestown

Several weeks ago my sweetie-wife and I engaged in a re-watch of cult television show Firefly. The first series from Joss Whedon set outside of his successful Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe Firefly is a science fiction story following the adventures of a band of smugglers and outlaws as they attempt to scrape out a living in a civil war that tore their planetary system in two. Inspired by the book The Killer Angels about the U.S. Civil war the show leans heavily on a southern US cadence for its dialog and the settlement of the American West for it setting and tone. Airing from 2002 through 2003 the Fox Network canceled the show after less than a complete full first season. Unresolved storylines were tidied up by a feature film release titles Serenityand the show lived on in a comic book adaptation. Episode 7 of the 14 released on home video was the comic/tragic Jaynestown in which the crew of the Serenity discover that Jayne Cobb, the most criminal and violent member of the cast, is idolized, quite literally with a statue, by a town of indentured workers who years earlier mistook him for a Robin Hood style vigilante after he jettisoned strongboxes of money over their town in order to keep a crippled craft airborne. In a parallel that provides the crew with their method of escape when the local authorities freeze out the ship’s control the character of Inara, a woman of respectable status due to the society’s unusual view of sex work, engages professionally with the son of the local head of government. Her client is a man 26 years old but who, much to his father horror, has remained a virgin and the father has commissioned Inara to correct the situation. Over all Jaynestown is one of the series’ best episodes. Written by Ben Edlund it presents sharp in character comedy but lands on a note of pathos about the nature of hero-worship.

That said the episode has a timeline issue that had always bugged me. The young man with Inara is twenty-six years old and he speaks about when he was growing up that this man – Jayne- robbed his father and dropped the money on the people. We learn from another character that the heist took place just four years earlier, when the virgin was twenty-two. Hardly an age that most people would consider as part of their ‘growing up.’  Had they made the young man 18 then he could have been 14 when Jayne performed his robbery and still be old enough to dodge any issues that Fox’s Standards and Practices might have had about the whole losing his virginity sub-plot.

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