Doctor Who: A Town Called Mercy

The modern western is a fertile ground for writers to play around with morally ambiguous characters, and it was refreshing to see how deep “A Town Called Mercy” was willing to go in its exploration of morality, given that Doctor Who remains family viewing. What was touted to viewers as some kind of shoot ‘em up romp, ended up a thoughtful riff on maybe a half a dozen concepts of different shapes and sizes: High Noon, Leone’s spaghetti westerns, High Plains Drifter, Blade Runner, Frankenstein,The Terminator, and Westworld all leaped to mind while taking in this clever amalgam of ideas. Yet for all its inspirations, “Mercy” was mostly just some excellent, thought-provoking Doctor Who.

Rory: “The sign does say ‘Keep Out.’”

The Doctor: “I see ‘Keep Out’ signs as suggestions more than actual orders. Like ‘Dry Clean Only’!”

“Mercy” writer Toby Whithouse penned the second season Who tale “School Reunion,” in which Lis Sladen’s Sarah Jane Smith came back to us. It was early days still, and he was working with an iconic figure, so it was easy to forgive some of that story’s weaknesses, particularly in regards to the batlike, shape-shifting Krillitane, who weren’t especially memorable villains. A couple years later, he unleashed what he’s perhaps best known for, the supernatural vampire/werewolf/ghost series, Being Human.

Whithouse finally returned to the Who fold during the last two seasons with “The God Complex,” a script that felt like it was maybe trying too hard, and the year before that, with “The Vampires of Venice,” a script that felt like it wasn’t trying quite hard enough. Aspects all of his Who scripts share, however, are complex, sympathetic villains next to complex, flawed portrayals of the Doctor. With “A Town Called Mercy,” Whithouse has done it again, and this time better than ever before.

Read the rest of this recap by clicking here and visiting Vulture.

Farscape: The Complete Series

Most of the sci-fi shows you enjoy today owe some kind of debt to Farscape. On the flip side, most of the sci-fi shows you grew up on, Farscape liberally stole bits and pieces from. It’s quite possibly the most unoriginally original series ever made. Here’s a show that came along at a time when space opera wasn’t doing a whole lot of experimentation, and yet that’s almost exclusively what Farscape did. It took heaping platefuls of well-worn sci-fi clichés and ideas and turned them on their ear, seemingly just to find out what would happen. Most of it worked, some of it did not, but that’s the price you pay for innovation. The show was primarily a drama, but that didn’t stop it from working in jokes and sight gags whenever possible. This was considerably different when compared to the various, dry Star Trek series that were around at the time. It also featured loads of monsters and aliens, most of which stand the test of time, which is unsurprising since The Jim Henson Company was behind the show, and they are, after all, the folks who built an empire on a frog and a pig.

But The Muppet Show, Farscape is not, and don’t let anyone try to tell you otherwise. It’s a serious show for people who take their sci-fi seriously but can still appreciate a good fart gag every now and then. Over the course of 88 hour-long episodes, it tells the story of Earth astronaut John Crichton (Ben Browder) who, within the first 10 minutes of the pilot episode, is flung halfway across the universe via a wormhole, only to end up smack in the middle of an epic space battle. He soon finds himself living onboard a living ship called Moya amongst a group of alien prisoners who are on the run from their captors, the Peacekeepers, a militant group of human-looking aliens. As the series progresses, Crichton goes from inchworm to King Cobra, and eventually ends up being the most important man in the Uncharted Territories because of one thing: the wormhole knowledge planted deep in his psyche by an alien race known as the Ancients. Whoever possesses this knowledge will be able to build a weapon of awesome might, although what Crichton really wants is to just get home; too bad every alien the other side of the Milky Way wants a piece of him along the way.

Read the rest of this Blu-ray review by clicking here and visiting Bullz-Eye.

Warehouse 13: Season One

As someone who loves science fiction, it’s unfortunate that I’ve got an almost irrational resistance to programming on Syfy. It goes all the way back to their brutal treatment of Farscape, and while logic tells me that Battlestar Galactica should have made up for that misstep, I still find it hard to trust the network to this day. Or maybe it’s just that most of their programming sucks, and is aimed at the lowest common denominator.

Needless to say, I skipped Warehouse 13 when it was on last year, and once I started watching this set I assumed I had made the right decision, as the first four or five episodes (out of 12) aren’t much to write home about. The warehouse in question is located in the hinterlands of South Dakota. It houses a seemingly infinite number of artifacts from history – artifacts that inexplicably contain strange and unique powers (you’ve seen it before at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark and the beginning of Kingdom of the Crystal Skull). For instance, Edgar Allen Poe’s quill makes whatever it writes happen, while Lewis Carroll’s mirror contains the spirit of an evil Alice.

There’s a schlubby caretaker named Artie Nielsen (the always great Saul Rubinek), who in the 90-minute pilot enlists the aid of two Secret Service agents, Pete Lattimer (Eddie McClintock) and Myka Bering (Joanne Kelly), both of whom are far too attractive for their professions. Their job is to trek across the U.S., hunt down artifacts, and bring them back to the warehouse – but not before getting in all manner of trouble first. There’s also the owner of Warehouse 13, the mysterious Mrs. Frederic (C.C.H. Pounder), who instills fear with her steely gaze, as well as Leena (Genelle Williams), a quiet, possibly psychic woman who runs the B & B where the Warehouse employees reside, which is one of the show’s stranger narrative moves. Why can’t they just get apartments, like normal people?

Read the rest of this DVD review by clicking here and visiting Bullz-Eye.

Red Dwarf: Back to Earth

If you don’t know what smeg is all about, the Urban Dictionary defines it as such: “A futuristic British all-purpose swear word. From Red Dwarf.” Battlestar Galactica has frak, Farscape has frell…and Red Dwarf has smeg. If it sounds funnier than frak or frell, that’s because Red Dwarf is really a comedy that just so happens to be set in the far future, on a spaceship called the Red Dwarf. It first started on BBC Two in 1988, racking up a total of eight seasons before finally ending in 1999, and it built up a pretty serious following in the process; although I suppose describing anything to do with Red Dwarf as serious makes me a complete and total smeghead.

Truth be told, despite being a disciple of British sci-fi and comedy, I never really got into Red Dwarf which to this day mystifies me (perhaps even more so after watching this reunion special), as it should’ve fit like a very comfortable glove. The number of episodes of Red Dwarf I’ve seen over the years could probably be counted on one hand. I’m hardly an authority on it, but given the chance to check out Back to Earth – the only new Dwarf in over a decade – I jumped at it, if for no other reason than to see how I’d react all these years later.

Read the rest of this DVD review by clicking here and visiting Bullz-Eye.

The Rorschach Hurrah Picture Show

"The crowd is curious, but well behaved." - Les Nessman, five time winner of the Buckeye Newshawk Award, as well as the recipient of the Silver Sow and the Copper Cobb Awards.

Les pretty much summed up how the Jackie Earle Haley signing went yesterday afternoon at Atomic Comics and Gaming here in San Antonio. I'd like to say I was surprised by how many people showed up, but truthfully I wasn't. While I don't have an accurate head count, there must have been at least 300 people milling in and out of the place over the course of 2 hours, smack in the middle of a Thursday afternoon workday. The place was packed, and it's not as if Atomic is an especially large place. Yes, Watchmen may well have detractors, but its San Antonio fans came out in full force, and the store was selling all manner of merchandise for their Jackification. One fan even presented Jackie with a painting of Rorschach, pictured at right behind my friend Suzanne (click to enlarge). Although I wasn't there to witness that moment, my other half, Jeanne, told me about it later on, as she was in the midst of the fray for about the first hour. Being a print journalist, believe it or not, still has its perks.

I've actually got a lotta love for fans, since, well, I am one...but I haven't done much in the real world of fandom for a number of years, so it's a strange and fascinating place to wander back into. Gone are the days of fandom being exclusively the domain of the socially inept; these days fans live next door to you...they're your lawyer, doctor...or your wife. I wanted to approach the signing not as a buddy of the honoree, but as a fan. I took in my copy of the graphic novel (which, by the way, was given to me by my online Farscape bud Tyler Trafford) and a Rorschach action figure that was given to my kid by his girlfriend, intent on getting Jackie to sign both. Turns out there was a two item limit...Suzanne had four items - and two were for our mutual friend Lee Sparks, who lives in Austin. Lee is Watchmen crazy, and has been, I suspect, since the individual issues were first published. So that Suzanne didn't have to make a choice, I made it for her: I blew off getting either item I brought signed so that Lee could have both of his items inscribed by the Mighty Pen o' Haley. It's probable that this was all splitting hairs, as I seriously doubt Jackie would've turned me down...but that would've defeated the point...which was to be a fan. As far as Jackie goes, I might not get another chance to simply behave like a fan. Honestly not sure if I care whether or not he ever signs my crap. Nothing to do with Haley...I've just got no love for autographs in general. (Although a Tom Baker scribble might actually mean something...)

Jackie's been pretty open with me (and many others in interviews) that he really embraces fan culture, and at this point considers himself to be a huge fan himself. This is one guy who won't be telling groups of Watchmen devotees to "get a life" anytime soon. (No disrespect to The Shat intended - he is, after all, Denny Crane.) It was a grand afternoon, in that respect, as I can't imagine that five years ago Jackie ever considered the notion that he'd someday be looked at as a badass superhero to so many. Perhaps the vestiges of Kelly Leak have finally disappeared, and when, in casual conversation his name is mentioned, it will be linked with the real identity of one Walter Kovacs, rather than the Bad News Bears...not that there's anything wrong with being a Bear, mind you.

Jackie Earle Haley isn't someone who ever expected to get another chance. He is not someone who’s tried to cultivate a look that appeals to the Hollywood machine. He’s not someone who tried to do much of anything other than be Jackie. His flame shone brightly for a short period of time and he’s now been granted another go at it. This almost never happens for a talent of his ilk. Talent - that’s the key word here. The guy is talented. His early work hinted at it, but his new work – much of which has been informed by life - has cemented it. Many people have trod similar stomping grounds, and few have gotten that second chance. If so, then Jackie should inspire those people. He isn’t a John Travolta – someone who’s reinvented variations of himself several times over. There’s the child actor, the huge gap in between, and then…today. Today doesn’t even remotely resemble Kelly Leak. It’s easy to say “resurgence,” but what about “renewal?”

But enough about Jackie. I love him, and hopefully you, as a viewer of his various works, love him too...

This must close with some hard talk of Watchmen. To say the movie has been received with mixed reviews might be lowballing it. I've read more critical pieces of this movie than I have for any movie in years - just to see what folks are saying. The good reviews, of course, put a big ol' grin on my face...but the negative ones, especially the overwhelmingly negative leave me wondering if these people have seen the same movie I have (four times at the time of writing)...or more importantly - what has happened to the audiences of the '70s, who enjoyed being challenged when they went to the movies? Had Watchmen been released 20 years ago, would people be so quick to call bunk?

The superhero movie genre has become so dominant in the past seven or so years. It's also become mostly predictable. As much as I personally disliked The Dark Knight, I'd be foolish to deny that it didn't buck the trend. Yet I adored Iron Man, despite having no investment in the concept. But Watchmen the movie is in a league of its own. It bears almost no resemblance to either of those benchmarks. It doesn't look or feel like anything that's come before it.

Does it work - like the graphic novel in relation to its predecessors - as a sly response to the fare that's surrounded it? I dunno. If I gave more of a fuck about superhero movies maybe I could say. Aside from the first two Spider-Man flix, the rest (yes, even Iron Man) leave me unwilling to return for future dissection. Regardless - love it or hate it - is there anything else like it in the genre? If people aren't enjoying Watchmen, it's because people don't take the genre seriously...or because they take it too seriously. My first reaction to the film was, "Well, that's probably the best movie they could've made based on that source material." After the second viewing, I was in "Oh-My-Fucking-god" mode. If you've only seen it once, I urge you to see it again. Some movies, for better or worse, just work that way. Watchmen is one of them. My bud Taylor, who's 19, and who I convinced to see it with me on viewing #4 , said to me tonight, "When's that coming out on video? Man, the morning after I saw it I realized how much I liked it."

And if you think Malin Akerman fails to deliver then you are clearly a gay man. And I do love gay men...but it's a huge shame you can't dig on the Laurie Jupiter, because she just makes my heart ache in a way Alan Moore completely failed to.

(It has come to my attention that the previous paragraph may be perceived of as offensive at worst, or nonsensical and without merit at best. It probably would've been better had I included a squid.)

Proof of Not Drowning, Waving

Since I'm lousy at writing about music, but passable in my movie-speak, I'll present the band Not Drowning, Waving through the Russell Crowe/Hugo Weaving-starring and Jocelyn Moorhouse-directed movie, Proof (no relation to the play or Hopkins/Paltrow movie of the same name).

Proof is a little film that came into my life back in the early 90s, before either Crowe or Weaving were the stars they are today. I used to watch it obsessively and can make claim to having been a fan of both actors long before L.A. Confidential or Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. It's the peculiar story of a prickish blind photographer (Weaving) who's befriended by a busboy at his local eatery (Crowe). The pair become fast friends when Weaving's Martin enlists Crowe's Andy to verbally interpret his photographs (a process Martin calls "labelling"). But the only thing neither of them count on is the intrusive presence of Martin's manipulative housekeeper Celia (Geneviève Picot) and her obsession with her employer. I cannot recommend Proof highly enough, especially to anyone who's even a moderate fan of either or both of these men who've gone on to become incredibly successful. It's a charming, easy film to view and will leave a smile on your face. It's about perception and misperception and Moorhouse's yin and yang placement of the two ideas is flawless. Hell, even if you can't stand either of them, you'll dig this film. (Although really -- who hates Hugo Weaving?)

Not Drowning, Waving provide the score for Proof, and whatever they did with it was enough to get me to seek out more of their music. They created a thumping, rhythmic beauty and the music was as much a part of the movie as the stars, script and direction. Some people say the best movie scores aren't noticeable. While there's merit to that notion, I do treasure a score that's listenable as its own entity (Vangelis' work for Blade Runner is an obvious example). The band also did the score for another rarely seen, early Crowe vehicle, Hammers Over the Anvil (which I've not seen, despite the presence of Farscape's Wayne "Scorpius" Pygram). Most of Not Drowning, Waving's albums are out of print here in the States, however Claim and Circus can usually be found on eBay for very reasonable prices and you'll go wrong with neither.

Not Drowning, Waving are one of the great bands that almost nobody's ever heard (at least in my circle of living) and I gather they were most successful in Australia, their home turf. They've got an official website called Follow the Geography, although it's unclear to me whether they're still together as a band or not (the "latest" news is stamped 2005). The site offers up a brief history of the band that's considerably more informative and compelling than anything I could present.

Here's the video for "Spark", which is a fantastic little ditty. An instrumental version of the tune was used in Proof; this version can be found on Circus. If this isn't quite to your liking, don't give up on Not Drowning, Waving. They're full of surprises and "Spark" is only the tip of their eclectic, worldly iceberg.



And here's the trailer for Proof, which is also set to the music of Not Drowning, Waving:

The Dukes of Hezmana

Farscape: A Frellin' Retrospective

My first impression of Farscape is forever burned into the ol’ gray matter. I was at a friend’s abode and the Sci-Fi Channel was on in the background. Dominar Rygel the XVI -- a mainstay of the series, as well as a creation of Jim Henson’s Creature Shop -- filled the screen. Within seconds a judgment was made: “This looks fuckin’ stupid.”

Good thing I gave the show another chance a couple years later.

To read the rest of my musings on The Uncharted Territories, visit the most uncharted territory of all: The House Next Door.