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Colossal (2016)

Mar 092016

Gloria (Ann Hathaway) is a mess. She’s a jobless, lying, alcoholic. She tries to be good, but she doesn’t try very hard and is weak. She’d be self-centered if she put in the effort. Yet she’s likable, as long as you don’t have to rely on her or trust her. Her longterm boyfriend does need to do those things, so has had enough, and kicks her out. With nowhere else to go, she returns to her hometown. There she runs into her childhood friend Oscar (Jason Sudeikis) and several others who appear to have their acts together, but are really as messed up as she is. Around the same time, a giant monster appears in Korea, destroying buildings and killing hundreds. Gloria soon figures out that the monster is somehow connected to her.

This was unexpected. Sure, the setup is pretty good but I’d figured they’d just roll with that, sliding into a typical indie drama and be done with it: You know, Gloria has to struggle to get her life on track, stumbling a few times along the way until she works it out and the monster fades away. Nah. Colossal has no interest in being what anyone expected. Yes, this is indie art house meets geek, but if that sounds like something dull, think again. I can’t help comparing it to this year’s other mashup of indie drama and geedom: Logan. But Logan had no surprises, giving me what I knew such a mashup would in plot, character, and theme. Colossal breaks the rules and I couldn’t be happier.

The dialog is sharp, the plot is smart, and it is shot beautifully. The only problem is if you go in with the wrong expectations. If you are expecting Godzilla or Pacific Rim or any big daikaiju action film, you are in the wrong mindset. Likewise if you are set for a very serious indie character piece, you are in for a rough time. Colossal is its own thing. It has a giant monster and there is city smashing, but that’s not the focus. It has discussions of alcoholism, but it isn’t a somber examination of a social issue. It is closest to being a quirky comedy, but with a dark thriller layered on top… Plus a giant monster. There is symbolism galore. Everything represents something else, yet none of it is too heavy-handed, nor too obscure. I saw the metaphors easily, but one viewing isn’t enough because there are so many. Don’t want to dwell on the metaphors? Well, that’s foolish, but hey, there’s a giant monster!

Anne Hathaway is perfect as Gloria, keeping her from falling into drab melodrama tropes but also never cleaning her up. Yes, Gloria goes through serious changes in the film, but no unbelievable character shifts. She was a mess when it starts and she’s a mess when it ends, and still managed to keep me with her. I cared about Gloria. Jason Sudeikis is as good. It was a clever bit of casting as he appears to be exactly what a Jason Sudeikis character always is, until we find out he isn’t that at all.

Colossal is one of the best films of the year and by far the most original of my top ten. Daikaiju films often attempt to be about big themes, but few succeed. This is how it is done.

Giant Monsters, Reviews Tagged with: Four Reels

Captain America: Civil War (2016)

Mar 082016

General, now Secretary of State, Thaddeous Ross (William Hurt) brings an ultimatum to the Avengers: place yourselves under the control of the United Nations or retire. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.), feeling guilty over numerous actions, agrees that they need to be put in check or more innocents will die. Steve Rogers (Chris Evens) sees this as a dangerous attack on their liberty. When his old friend Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan) is blamed for an explosion that kills many, including the king of Wakanda, the Avengers split into two group.

Civil War is partly a sequel to The Winter Soldier and partly one to Age of Ultron. It is a huge, sweeping film packed with action of all kinds while still managing to be a personal story about characters. Its two hour and twenty-six minute length is never felt as it whips along. This is a epic popcorn movie with heart.

Still, I was looking for a home run and got a double play. Civil War isn’t a story, at least not a complete one. It is a bridge between other movies. By its end, nothing is finished, and in fact, nothing really happens of note after the first twenty minutes. Lots of combat, lots of flying about, and plenty of amusing or dramatic discussions do occur, but if you removed them all, it wouldn’t change a thing. The main plot, of the split in The Avengers over the UN accords and Bucky, goes nowhere. And the smaller threads, of Bucky’s future, the success or failure of Baron Zemo’s revenge, Tony’s emotional state, and all of the relationships, are left dangling. They didn’t have to cross all the “T”s, but I would have liked to see something closed up.

I also have mixed feelings on the big action set pieces. Some, like the Avenger vs Avenger showdown at the airport, were marvelous, but others were too frenetic, and filmed too close and too shaky. Of course if one big, superhero confrontation isn’t to your liking, another is just around the corner. There’s a lot of fighting in Civil War.

There is also a tone problem, caused by making the funniest character, Tony, serious and broken. Tony Stark is an ass. Always has been. But like Loki, we like him anyway because he’s charming. A broken Tony isn’t charming. Which also knocks out the great debate of the film. When one philosophy is supported by an unlikeable fascist (Ross) and an ass, and the figurative imprisonment becomes literal, it’s clear which side we should choose. No one ever presents the Accords as a reasonable choice. The closest is a grieving mother, but her son would have died anyway. It’s quite noticeable that no one ever points out that in each case, things would have been drastically worse without The Avengers intervening and not a single soul who died would now be alive. There is a case to be made for controlling The Avengers, but this film doesn’t attempt to make it.

Which leaves us with the rest of the characters, and there things go well. Captain America is once again surprisingly engaging as is most of the rest of the crew. Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Agent 13 (Emily VanCamp), and Falcon (Anthony Mackie) may not get a lot of screen time, but they use it well. Vision (Paul Bettany) comes off as a fool, but he’s got a few funny moments. Bucky fights more than speaks, but he looks good in those fights and War Machine (Don Cheadle) is fine as background. Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen) becomes the emotional heart of The Avengers and easily carries that. I always cared about her. And the newly introduced Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman) is a winner. He’s suave and violent and I look forward to his solo movie.

The standouts are Ant-Man (Paul Rudd) and Spider-Man (Tom Holland). Both are minor figures in the film, but they own the screen. Both add needed levity, normally while punching things. After a run of bad Spider-Man movies, it was rewarding to see the character done right, and having seen it, I now can’t figure why Sony failed so miserably.

The villain of the piece, Zemo (Daniel Brühl) is an afterthought and I could rewrite the script without him. The conflict comes from within The Avengers. But I liked him. For his scant screen time, he’s an effective villain and a relatable one. It’s easier to choose his side than Tony’s.

So, a mixed bag that adds up to a good movie. Not the great one I was expecting, but that’s on me. They can’t make The Avengers every time. It just seems like a very long wait until a lot of questions get answered (2018 for both Black Panther and Avengers 3).

Reviews, Superhero Tagged with: Four Reels

Doctor Strange (2016)

Mar 072016

Arrogant surgeon Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) damages his hands in a car accident and in desperation travels to the far East for mystical healing. There he finds The Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) and her sorcerer acolytes who defend the world from magical threats. The threat of the moment is from a rogue sorcerer (Mads Mikkelsen) who has stolen a forbidden ritual and plans to use it to open Earth to The Dark Dimension and to the giant demon that rules it.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe adds their mystical strand and as with the previous thirteen films, creates something worth your $16. Where Doctor Strange excels is in its fantasy action. The fight choreography is superb, being quick but clear and filled with the unexpected. Better still is the twisting cityscape and constantly changing background. This is Inception done right (or if you liked Inception, call it Inception done far, far better). Combatants spring onto ceilings, elongate floors, and wrestle in mid air as gravity shifts. Combine those with the acid trip moments of Strange opening his third eye and we’ve got the new king of drug movies.

The humor works, the characters are well defined, and the pace is brisk. Still, while you should head out to the theater to catch it, Doctor Strange is on the lower end of the MCU films. It is yet another origin story, and one a bit too familiar. Merge Iron Man with Nolan’s Batman Begins and you’ve got the outline. Besides the plot being old-hat, the problem is that Stephen Strange is unlikable, even with Cumberbatch doing a spot-on American accent. Tony Stark is a terrible human being when we meet him, but a fun one. You’d want to hang out with him at a party even as you were appalled with what he was doing to the world. That kind of reprobate works in a film. But Strange is a different kind of problematic person. He is unpleasant. He’s doing the right things but for the wrong reasons and is simply nasty or pointlessly argumentative in his personal life. This works much less well in a film, particularly as he isn’t given the time needed to either learn his new craft or come to his epiphany. It would have been far better to start with him already a hero and present what was absolutely necessary of his unsavory side in brief flashbacks.

So, Doctor Stange should have been better, but it is still quite good. The casting is excellent. Chiwetel Ejiofor embodies nobility and rigidity as Strange’s sometimes teacher, sometimes partner. Mikkelsen doesn’t have a lot to do but manages to fill his villain with menace while Benedict Wong, as the combat librarian, is perhaps the best sidekick in the MCU. Swinton, as the White sorcerer supreme, nails the guru bit, making the switch from the comic book’s racially Asian character not a problem for this film, but rather one for the entire MCU which is noticeably lacking in Asian heroes. Only Rachel McAdams is underwhelming, but she’s stuck as the girlfriend we barely see so I doubt anyone else could have made more of an impression.

I think it likely that Doctor Strange’s best moments will not be in this solo film, but in his future outings with other Avengers, and based on the first of the two post-credit sequences, I expect we’ll see him in such a situation quite soon.

Fantasy, Reviews, Superhero Tagged with: Three & 1/2 Reels

Nina Forever (2016)

Mar 072016

Rob (Cian Barry) is broken and suicidal. His girlfriend, Nina (Fiona O’Shaughnessy) died in car accident. He’s given up his dreams, as someone who is in mourning does, taking a job at a supermarket and visiting weakly with Nina’s parents. His shy co-worker and paramedic in training, Holly (Abigail Hardingham), sees something in him and he, in desperation, goes out with her. Her acceptance of him, and the energy of her life gives him what he needs and they quickly end up in bed together. But their passion calls up undead Nina, who emerges from the mattress in a pool of blood, twisted and broken. Nina is none-too-pleased with her boyfriend—not “ex” as they never broke up and now, never can—playing with another girl. Holly retreats off the bed, but stays, waiting for Rob to do something. But when he doesn’t, and ends up being kissed by the corpse, Holly takes off, and soon after, Nina vanishes. But neither are through with each other, and are drawn together again, with Holly vowing that they will make it work, and that she’s willing to deal with Rob’s past, and the corpse it invokes.

This is not going to be a normal review for me, but rather more of a critique, which means spoilers galore. So, if you just want the basics, I’ll sum it up with: Forever Nina is well-crafted, with a solid performance from O’Shaughnessy and a masterful one from Hardingham, which makes it particularly galling when the film fails so miserably. It is not a horror picture, but a relationship drama, with a living corpse, that exists for its theme, a theme that misses what life is like.

On to the heart of things. This is a film about grief (yes, if you’ve seen it and know a bit more, just wait; I’ll get there). Unfortunately, I have a bit of experience with the subject, and the filmmakers don’t seem to. Films get grief wrong, over and over again, which makes those who are grieving feel just a bit more alone, so I am interested in a film that might finally get it right, and for a time, Forever Nina could have been that film. But that time was brief, and things then fall apart so badly that it seems no one connected to this film has ever had a loved one die. That seems unlikely, but I’m at a loss for another explanation.

This is a metaphor movie to the point that people and events obey the rule of the metaphor. Rob is grieving. He can’t let go of Nina. She is always with him, in his mind, and so, when he has sex with Holly, Nina appears because she is always in his mind. She is the manifestation of his loss, his need for Nina, his inability to forget her, and his survivor’s guilt. Nina spells out the situation clearly: She doesn’t want to be there, but she has no choice because Rob can’t forget her, and they can’t move on in their relationship, can’t even break up, because she’s dead. There is no closure. I can’t argue with that last bit.

Here we see our first sign of trouble. Rob is not very likable. We learn little about him over the course of the film, but what we do learn doesn’t make him a bad guy, just a ho-hum one. And the few things he does range from stupid to stupidly cruel. But he’s grieving, so he’s off the hook. He isn’t expected to be a great guy since what he wants is to be a dead guy.

Holly, on the other hand, is near perfection. She is beautiful, fun, forceful when she needs to be, wild, accepting, caring, and open. She can deal with the worst situations, ones that would destroy anyone else or at least send them screaming from the room. Holly is a paragon. And while a bit unrealistic, I’m good with that.

Nina, on the other hand, is a bitch. She’s territorial, but also hurts both Rob and Holly just for the Hell of it. She could get a partial pass if this was due to her unpleasant situation—glass in her throat, a broken body, and no escape—but a few exchanges indicate that she was always like this.

This sets up a far too simple dichotomy. The old girlfriend is bad. The new one is good. Who should we root for? It could be far more interesting and moving if both were loving. But it is worse as we’re in metaphor-land, making the nasty corpse the equivalent of memories of the lost one. It seems you can’t have good memories of the deceased.

Now Holly, being wonderful, acts kindly and respectfully, inviting Nina into their lovemaking and taking actions to show that Nina will never be forgotten and that she’s not there to replace her. Metaphor-wise, that is exactly what Rob needs. That is the way to deal with grief—to find a new reason to live and act, particularly in the love of someone new while keeping the memories of the past, honoring them, and never forgetting. Holly is willing to accept Rob with his baggage, with his ghost, both metaphoric and non-metaphoric.

Huh. Well, the filmmakers messed up on Nina, but maybe, partly, they do understand grief.

But wait, it turns out the film isn’t about grief. All that stuff about mourning, about remembering vs moving on vs family—forget all that. It turns out, grieving is easy. Just man-up and get on with your life. Get a good job and sever all ties with your dead loved-one’s family, as Rob does, and you’re good to go. Sure, it takes some sex and attention from a girl to set the process in motion, but after that, it’s a breeze and the new girl doesn’t matter.

That doesn’t mean the film isn’t still all a metaphor, just not for grief.

You see, it turns out Rob’s grief had nothing to do with summoning Nina. Sure, it seemed like it did in many ways and Nina pointed out she was in his head, and much of the first half makes no sense without that, but nope. And if the metaphor doesn’t involve grief, it is strange that it is Nina who is summoned instead of some other form of undead metaphor. But nope, forget all about grief and the whole point of the picture. It was Holly who was summoning Nina because Holly is sick. She’s got Florence Nightingale Syndrome. She only liked Rob because he was in bad shape and she wanted to fix him. That’s why she wants to be a paramedic. Paramedics all have messed up personalities apparently. All those times she was being reasonable and loving, she wasn’t. A woman wouldn’t actually accept a man with his pain, and help him with it. She wouldn’t take the man and his ghost. No. Even though that is exactly what my wife did when I was grieving over the death of my first wife. No, women only do that kind of thing when they are crazy. And once Rob is doing OK, he’s no longer interesting to Holly. So much for Rob.

But Holly’s need to save people (which is bad—very bad—which is made clear when she turns out to be a very good paramedic because…OK, I’ve no idea why her being a good paramedic indicates she’s a mess, but it does), her insecurities, and her dark side, which isn’t all that dark, draw Nina to her. So now she’s got Nina’s corpse with her, and Rob goes happily on his way.

It’s a mind boggling mess. This was a movie that desperately needed not to have a twist, and not such a ridiculous one. If it wasn’t about grief, why did we follow Rob when Holly wasn’t around. Why’d we stick with him as he cleaned up the blood and then tried to take gory sheets to a public laundry? Why did we see him at Nina’s parents as they dealt with their feelings and his future? What was the point except to make the actually interesting part of the film a huge red herring? I suppose I answered that: It was all a red herring.

The writing/directing team of Ben and Chris Blaine end up with statements that defy humanity. Mourning is no big deal. Just don’t wallow it in and you’ll be fine. Besides, no decent girl will want you. And as for women who have a touch of the goth about them and want to help people, stay away from those sickos.

Grieving is horrendous, and there is no moving on. You don’t get over it. Nor should you want to. You can continue to function and have a life, and a way for that to happen would be for a Holly to come along, to bring purpose and love. Forever Nina rejects that, which is truly sad.

Horror, Reviews Tagged with: Toxic

Daredevil: Season 2 (Netflix-2016)

Mar 072016

Frank Castle (Jon Bernthal), The Punisher, is a new vigilante in town, who has no problem killing. Daredevil decides he must take him down while Karen feels there is more to his story that needs to be revealed. Simultaneously, Matt Murdock’s old love, Elektra Notchios (Elodie Yung) has returned to town, her appearance corresponding to an increase in crime by a mysterious organization of ninjas known as The Hand.

Season 2 differed from the other 4 seasons of MCU Netflix series by theoretically having enough story to fill thirteen episodes, but only because it ran two completely disconnected, simultaneous plots. They not only didn’t fit together, they didn’t match in tone or theme. It made for a jangling viewing experience. The Punisher stuff is down to earth, violent, and supposedly emotional. The Hand subplot is pure fantasy, filled with vague mystical ramblings and superhero hijacks.

While the two stories could have filled thirteen episodes with plot, they didn’t. Neither story was fleshed out or even finished. The Punisher plot is very simple. The big bad was barely developed and his scheme seemed to be nothing more than heroine smuggling (at one point the big bad says it is more, but nothing more is given). It is a revenge story for a family we don’t know taken on bad guys who are never explained.

The second is even more undeveloped. It is vaguely about The Hand and their quest for their ultimate weapon. It’s filled with a fair amount of esoteric mumbo-jumbo: fate, immortality, ancient magic, and rising from the dead. But none of that goes anywhere. The great war, which we are told is very important, is kept ambiguous. The ultimate weapon is not explained at all. The bad guys are mostly unidentified. There are no stakes and no emotion.

So while there was enough story, they didn’t tell those stories. Instead, we again are given speeches, very slow cuts, and prolonged shots of nothing in particular. And of course, we get the same, uninteresting and done-to-death debate on superhero morality: Is killing ever allowed, and if one kills, then has he “crossed the line” from which he can never “return”? It’s tedious. A good theme could have obfuscated the glaring plot holes, but we didn’t get one.

Season 2 made it clear that Matt Murdock is not the draw. Daredevil just isn’t a great character. He is neither engaging nor likable. It isn’t a matter of him being too straight-laced or too obnoxious. Captain America is good and very likable. And Tony Stark is an ass, but also likeable. Matt Murdock sits in the uninteresting spot between them. Neither his endless moralizing, nor his slips from that morality, make him relatable, or cool. I never empathized with him. And without Fisk and Vanessa, there’s no magic.

Reviews, Superhero Tagged with: Two Reels

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)

Mar 062016

The evil stereotype Shredder is broken out of jail while in the care of the guy from Arrow (Stephen Amell). Naturally, he puts on a hockey mask and beats up people with his hockey stick to redeem himself. This leads him to April O’Neil (Megan Fox) and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (some guys…who cares). Shredder has made a deal with an extraterrestrial…for some reason…to help bring through an alien killing machine. And the Turtles, they need to argue whenever possible while the guy with the hockey mask and April disappear from the film. Also, Laura Linney is slumming it for a paycheck. And Tyler Perry shows up as an evil scientist because casting doesn’t matter in a movie like this.

Megan Fox is hot. She looks really good in that plaid miniskirt.

Ummmm…

Oh, that Elvis song, “A Little Less Conversation”—that’s a good song. And there’s a couple ‘70s songs that are nice.

OK, I’m out. That’s everything good about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows, a cesspool of a sequel to the soul-sucking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014). It is always too loud, too flashy, and far too empty. Who asked for this sequel? If I was looking for theme in this cacophony, I’d probably go with White Supremacy (Turtle/White power! Avoid Asians and Blacks!), but really the only meaning here is meta: Loud things make money from dim people and young children.

The plot doesn’t matter, including to the filmmakers who spent their time having the Turtles grouse while surrounded by swirling animated objects, and programming generic and surprisingly dull fight scenes. I can’t really condemn the voice actors as they had nothing to work with, certainly not clever dialog or a plot. The human actors are little better than the CGI ones. When Megan Fox is the top thespian in a film… I’ll just let that thought trail off.

The effects, and this film is 90% computer generated, are no doubt a technical achievement, but not one that’s enjoyable to watch. I’ve seen a mountain of films this year that went nuts on the CGI and were breathtaking to behold. Not here. This film is ugly, with every shot crudely overstuffed. Art direction is a foreign concept, replaced by some guy yelling, “Hey, can we sticks somethin’ purple into this shot ‘cause I sees every color but purple heres.” This Michael Bay production is as artistically bankrupt as all of his projects, but lacks his dubious skills, with the director’s seat taken by Dave Green. Haven’t heard of Dave Green? That’s OK.

Reviews, Science Fiction, Superhero Tagged with: One Reel

Ranking the James Bond Villains

Mar 042016

March 4, 2016

To go with my ranking of all of the Bond films last week, here is my ranking of the Bond villains. Everyone always says that the villain makes the Bond film. I don’t think so. But there is some relationship.

I’m going with main villains, as there are lots and lots of villains. Henches will get their own list, although having the right hench can make for a better main villain. Who counts as the main villain isn’t always clear in a SPECTRE film; I choose Blofeld only when he is the onscreen main bad guy and I also discount midlevel enforcers, like Mr. White. There are a few cases where I just have to go with multiple villains. Since the Blofelds are so different once they fully appear, I’ve counted them as different villains. I am including the three non-Eon productions just for the fun of it. So, let us begin.

blofeldspectre

#29 Ernst Stavro Blofeld/Franz Oberhauser (Christoph Waltz) — Spectre

Who is he: Madman leader of SPECTRE and Bond’s brother.
Evil Plot: Gain power by controlling the world’s intelligence gathering ability, revenge himself on Bond, and strip away any meaning and value from the Craig Years.
The Good: Christoph Waltz can be a good actor.
The Bad: To repeat myself from my Bond film rankings, HE’S JAMES BOND’S BROTHER! Really? That’s where they went? OK, the family metaphor can really work with Bond. See Skyfall and GoldenEye. But this isn’t a metaphor. This is just lame. Everything in the last few films has been because Blofeld thought his daddy loved James more than him. AH! He is the worst villain because not only does he drag down one film, he drags down four. He also turns out not to be scary, intense, or weird in a fun way, nor does he display any signs that he could run a criminal network. Everything we’re shown indicates that his organization should never have risen and would certainly fall immediately. But who cares if he is on the blah side because HE’S JAMES BOND’S BROTHER!

drnoah

#28 Dr. Noah/Jimmy Bond (Woody Allen) — Casino Royale ‘67

Who is he: Insecure leader of SMERSH and James Bond’s nephew.
Evil Plot: Use a virus to kill all men taller than him and make all women beautiful.
The Good: Ummm… He’s not the worst thing in the film.
The Bad: The worst sin in a comedy: Jimmy Bond isn’t funny.

dominicgreene

#27 Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric) — Quantum of Solace

Who is he: A middle manager for Quantum, an organization that is SPECTRE, but the Eon lawyers hadn’t cleared that name yet.
Evil Plot: Control all the water in Bolivia, because that makes sense…
The Good: He gives off an evil vibe.
The Bad: But he gives off more of an oily vibe. He is also weak physically and in no way a real threat. He’s a henchmen, except he’s the main guy. If you remember him at all, it is just as a vague slime bag. His timid, off-screen death is the final nail.

blofeldonher

#26 Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Telly Savalas) — On Her Majesty’s Secret Service

Who is he: A weirdo with a cat fetish, who doesn’t act all that weird nor fetishy.
Evil Plot: To use his psychedelic, chicken hypnosis on European girls at his fake mountaintop allergy clinic to get them to take crop viruses back home that he can use as part of a blackmail scheme to get everyone to acknowledge his hereditary title. Yeah, it is as dumb as it sounds.
The Good: Telly Savalas can be a good villain.
The Bad: Blofeld is a weirdo with a cat fetish. That’s what he is. You do not play that straight. He is a silly camp character. You try and play down the weird and fetish and you end up with just silly and that’s what we get. Dull and silly because the filmmakers wouldn’t go to the extreme that Blofeld requires (we’ll see it done right higher on the list). Savalas could have done it—see The Dirty Dozen where he’s really creepy—but here he’s bland while still being ridiculous. If you want a serious, scary, reasonable villain, then you do not make him a weirdo with a cat fetish, and you do not bring him anywhere close to a psychedelic, hypno chicken virus heraldry plot.

Lists, Thoughts

Ranking the James Bond Movies

Feb 292016

February 29, 2016

jamesbondall The Oscars are tonight, and I’ve never cared less. There is nothing of interest nominated. This isn’t exactly new. The Oscars are wrong almost every year in almost every way. So, I needed something cinema-related that was about as far form The Oscars as I could go. But I wasn’t prepared for a nunsploitation essay, and I have been re-watching all the Bond films, so, Bond it is. Here are my ranking of the 28 Bond films (updated for No Time To Die, and including the 3 non-Eon productions).

My general view is I like Bond when he is edgy. That is, when he doesn’t fit as a traditional hero, or a traditional Hollywood character. Heroes just do the right thing. That’s not Bond. In Hollywood, if you don’t do the right thing, you suffer for it. If you sleep around, it is to hide your pain. If you murder people, it is heavy on your soul. In recent years, Bond has gone Hollywood, thus losing that edge. But it started very differently, when Connery’s Bond shot down a man in cold blood, and he enjoyed it. That’s my Bond. So, here we go. (I’ve also Ranked the Bond Villains and Ranked the Bond Title Sequences.)

#28 On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

The Good: It is technically a film. Diana Rigg is a fine actress.
The Bad: Lazenby cannot act, which is particularly troubling in a film where he needs to show emotion. Even co-star Diana Rigg said he was horrible. The tone is dead serious, but the plot is as silly as they come: psychedelic chicken hypnosis to blackmail Europe into recognizing his hereditary title!! Big emotional relationship depicted by a montage—a montage! Glacial pace. A weirdo with a cat fetish is played seriously.

#27 Quantum of Solace (2008)

The Good: It’s not that long.
The Bad: Wimpy villain. Poorly edited fight scenes. Glum tone. A plot best not to think about, and you won’t. Forgettable. I just watched it and I’m forgetting it. Filmed when there was a writers-strike so they were just making stuff up on set; most of those involved, including Craig, admit that this one doesn’t work.

#26 Spectre (2015)

The Good: The first act is pretty good. Not great, but the action is decent and it’s filmed quite well. Bond following leads and hopping around the globe is always fun and Craig seems reasonably comfortable.
The Bad: BLOFELD IS JAMES BOND’S BROTHER! Really? That’s where they went? OK, the family metaphor can work with Bond. See GoldenEye. But this isn’t a metaphor. This is just lame. Everything in the last few films has been because Blofeld thought his daddy loved James more than him. He drags down not just this film; he drags down four films. Yes, there’s a lot more wrong than just that. The dour Bond world of the Craig reboot doesn’t mesh well with the call-backs to earlier Bond. Plus the plot is stolen, the color pallet is monotonous, and human motivations are questionable to be polite. And really, everything in the last third is junk. But the Blofeld family stuff is the most painful.

#25 Thunderball (1965)

The Good: Connery is in good form. Claudine Auger is attractive.
The Bad: Poor pace. Dull, never-ending, underwater scenes. Silly plot. Drab, dubbed villain. And oh those camera speed-up action scenes. And I’ll repeat: poor pace and dull.

Lists, Thoughts

Most Stories Don’t Matter

Jan 212016

January 21, 2016

Writer’s Voice and Eugie Foster

I came across a Youtube video, part of a series on literature called Stripped Cover Lit, where the subject was the writer’s voice. They made a list of six great short stories that demonstrated the author’s voice. The six:

Donald Barthelme – The Baby
Ernest Hemingway – Hills Like White Elephants
William Faulkner – That Evening Sun
F. Scott Fitzgerald – Bernice Bobs Her Hair
Lorrie Moore – How to Become a Writer
Eugie Foster – When it Ends, He Catches Her

I have to admit never being a big fan of Fitzgerald, but still, I rather like Eugie being grouped with these, particularly Hemingway and Faulkner.

I’ve been having a lot of conversations (well, online conversations) of late connected to this. I hadn’t used the term “writer’s voice,” but I should have, as it is vastly important when speaking of the art of writing, and of things that have popped up recently in the F&SF community.

Most authors do not have a voice. They write words, but there is nothing that marks those words from the words of others. If an author dies, more often than not, another author could take over, finishing the work without anyone the wiser. There is nothing distinct. There is nothing vital. There are just words, stuck together in sentences. Style, subject, perspective—it’s all the same. If you happen to like that style, that subject, and that perspective, that’s good for you as you have plenty to read. But no story matters more than another. No book matters more. No author matters more. They are all replaceable.

This was a matter of pride for Jim Baen. Everything the same. Everything what you are looking for. Everything replaceable. That makes sense as a marketing strategy, with words being nothing but a commodity. It doesn’t work so well with art. Words that matter, that will be remembered—those cannot be just more of the same. It was one of (my many) complaints with the suggestions of the Sad Puppies. Most of the works had no voice, or if you prefer, all had the same voice with ten thousand other stories. Most could have been written by the same person, perhaps at different points in his career to account for improvement in skill. All the same.

This is why I give more leeway to John C. Wright than others. Because he has a voice. If I plopped down a pile of recent stories, particularly Pup stories, a disconnected reader would be able to pick out two of Wright’s stories, but as for the others, there would be no way to match them. They are all the same. Love or hate Mr. Wright, at least he exists. And it is better to hate a work of art than be bored by it, or to forget it.

This is not purely a Puppy matter. I bring them up because they revel in it, and because they want to give it awards. But this is the norm. Most stories I read lack a voice. I’ve been catching up a bit with my reading and most of what I find feels like everything else I’ve already found. When I find something that truly speaks, I rejoice in that. And I’ve found a few. And those will be the ones I’ll remember and the only ones with a chance of being remembered by the larger community.

Poe had a voice. Lovecraft had a voice. Vonnegut and Bradbury and Lee each had a voice. So did Shakespeare and Austen and Twain and Chekhov if we want to broaden our horizons a bit.

And Eugie had a voice. She actually had two different ones. Her Asian fairytales had a different style, a different perspective, then the likes of Sinner, Baker, Fabulist, Priest, Red Mask, Black Mask, Gentleman, Beast, When it Ends, He Catches Her, and The Art of Victory (yes, that last one you haven’t seen yet, and you’ll love it), though there was a relationship between those voices. Her works were not like so many others. Another author could not just pick up where she stopped. Her voice is not interchangeable with those of others. I can’t say if her stories will be remembered. All the great voices, or merely the distinct ones, are not automatically immortal. The world isn’t fair that way. But they might be.

As for all those stories that are the same, from authors who have no voice, they will fade from memory.

This year I hope to see ones worth remembering, ones whose authors have their own voice, who are not replaceable, to receive the cheers and accolades. It’s a hope, but the world isn’t merit-based either, so I can only hope. I hope more for great writers, distinct writers, with their own individual voices, to rise up and create things that speak to the soul.

For now, I’ll just be amused at grouping Eugie with Hemingway. I wonder what she’d have said to that.

Thoughts

“Go to Hong Kong and Find a Chinese Girl”

Jan 202016

January 20, 2016

I was speaking to a Chinese woman whose English was only so-so. I’d just met her and knew her only for the time I was waiting and waiting and waiting some more for a meeting that didn’t happen—long enough for her to ask if I was married and thus, for my widower status to pop up.

And her suggestion: Go to Hong Kong and find a Chinese girl.

I found that both interesting and unexpected, particularly from someone I had known so briefly. Now this did not upset me. In fact, it was at least theoretically helpful advice. It certainly beats all the “Grieve in your own time and then move on” and “Eugie would have wanted you to be happy” and “You just have to move forward” advice that’s been tossed my way. After all, none of that, none of what most people say is of any use. I have no interest in moving on, only I know what Eugie would have wanted, and the only people who feel the need to move forward are the ones who have never thought about what people actually need to do with their lives—which is, pretty much nothing besides die (taxes are optional, though then either death or jail or running away might come into play).

And what this woman said would help, again, theoretically. I do believe in being saved by new love. It has happened to me. For anyone not up to date on my life, Eugie was my second wife. Katie, my first, died when we were both young. It left me without purpose in life—empty. Then I found Eugie, and she gave me purpose. She gave me a reason for existence.

A lot of people think enjoying yourself is a reason. I’ve nothing against people sticking around simply to enjoy themselves, but taking it as THE reason is a recent philosophy and nothing pins it as the truth of the universe. A bit of reading through your local library’s philosophy section, or religion section, will find a good many other views on what life is all about. For most of recorded history, “fun” was not the meaning of life. I’m a big fan of fun and pleasure and generally enjoying myself, but also find it a bit empty. I want more.

So, I find the woman’s view that I need to get another girl to make my life worth having to be perfectly reasonable. It is an answer. The thing is, I haven’t asked the question, but it is the only actual answer anyone has suggested to me.

Suggesting that I go to Hong Kong to find a girl is a bit more peculiar, but not massively. She was from Hong Kong, and people tend to think people from where they are from are the best people. Plus, I’d said I’d been to Hong Kong, which brought up Eugie’s race, so perhaps she thought I had a thing for Chinese girls.

Again, I’ve no problem with that. Now-a-days it seems frowned upon to have a “type,” but that is another very recent social switch and I bet most people still do, they just won’t admit it. So she may have assumed my type is Chinese girls—not really accurate, but I can see where she was coming from (though I’m betting the “my people are the best” was more the point).

To me, all that is fine: The personal advice to a near stranger and the idea of a Chinese girl being the one to get. Sure. Where it doesn’t work for me is in the underlying nature of it all, which is, that I would try to find reason, or meaning, or a future in life. People do that. They do it all the time. I don’t think most do it with thought. They take it for granted that you must go on, so you must find meaning and that’s that.

I was never good with assumptions. I don’t take it for granted that I must exist, or I must be happy, or that life must have meaning. So I’m not looking for those things. I’m not asking the question, so her answer, while conceptually useful, is not so in practice. I also don’t think the “going to Hong Kong” part is on the money, but your mileage may vary.

I think salvation in love is a fine thing. I think it is pretty much the only thing (I do not think much of the “save yourself” crowd or any of the so popular life roads that all focus on “ME”). And if it ran into me, I wouldn’t avoid it. But I cannot imagine going out looking for it. Salvation will come. Or it won’t (I’ve got my money on the second.) But either way, I’m not going to be running around, searching. That works, as I’m not sure where I put my passport.

Thoughts

Deaths: Alan and David and Eugie, and many more.

Jan 142016

January 14, 2016

So Alan Rickman has died. I loved him in Die Hard (didn’t everyone), and in many other films. I saw him first in 1978’s BBC production of Romeo and Juliette. It is still my favorite recorded version (beaten only a stage version I saw around 10 years ago).

And David Bowie died the other day. A mover and shaker in the music world, he changed things in so many ways. When I was in junior high, it was deeply uncool to like Bowie. The few who did so openly were not teased for it, but avoided; people were afraid of them. I didn’t know Bowie’s music very well, but as a controversial child, I was friendly with one of the girls who frightened others, and she introduced me to Ziggy. Not too many years later Bowie was in white jackets and the ultimate in cool, but I never liked his “later” work. But I did listen to Ziggy and the Spiders.

And everyone is crying about the deaths, or singing the two men’s praises. I’ve mixed feelings on it. I cannot get upset at death now. Eugie beat them to it, and did it much earlier, so everyone else is now just copying, and doing so often after a good deal more life.

I see laments that it (each of these deaths) is a tragedy, from people who have evidently had exceptionally easy lives, or do not know the meaning of words. It is a horrible, gut wrenching, world-shattering thing—but not for those saying it. For Iman and Rima Horton, and for others who knew them and loved them, it is terrible beyond words. I do not attempt to feel for them. Humans are poor at sharing grief, or understanding it, but I acknowledge it.

But this isn’t a tragedy for you. Someone you don’t know has died, and they won’t make any more art. Unfortunate. But if that is a tragedy for you, I marvel at your golden life. That isn’t even something to sigh wistfully about.

Among all the misplaced moaning, there is a something of more value: celebration. Rickman and Bowie, and Eugie before them, didn’t go gently into that good night. They left behind great works. While all those who post pictures on the Internet have no connection, no blood to drain, they do have those great works. Loving and mourning and celebrating the individuals is for others. But celebrating, that is for you. So stop inappropriate cries, or pointless introspection of your own mortality (you’re mortal—if you didn’t come to grips with that when you were 18, give it up), and instead listen to Major Tom’s lyrical tale, or watch Hans Gruber play terrorist, or read about a woman who can hear a talking skunk. Then laugh, or cry, or yell, or sing, not to the people you didn’t know, but to the great things they left us. Celebrate their works.

That’s what you can do.

Thoughts

Ranking Doctor Who

Jan 092016

January 9, 2016

This is a ranking of modern Doctor Who, from 2005 (or NEW WHO). I’ll get around do ranking the seasons of Classic Who, but that’s for a different post. I’m looking at the seasons as a whole, so while that mostly means, “were the episodes in it better or worse?”, the structure of the season as a whole and any season long arcs are also factors. I am counting 14 seasons. So FLUX counts as a season, and the four Specials after season 4 also count as a season. I normally group any other specials with the nearest season, with the exception of two during Matt Smith’s time since, when I evaluated the nearest seasons, the BBC insisted that those were separate, and the fandom agreed, so I’ve just ignored 2 eps.

And for more info on which episodes brought a season up or pulled it down, check out my ranking of every modern Doctor Who episode:

The Lowest 3rd
The Middle 3rd
The Top 3rd

Now, starting in last place:

#14 Season 13 (FLUX)

doctor-who-flux2 Oh dear god, does Chibnall have no concept of story structure? FLUX is a single adventure split among 6 episodes. Two of those, War of the Sontarans and Village of the Angels, feel like stand alone eps that were rewritten to fit the longer work, but the other four eps cannot stand alone. And as a single, season long story, it is a mess. OK, the good first. The cinematography is very good, probably the best Doctor Who has ever been shot. And Yaz is much more of a character now, even with a bit of agency and less petulant. And while new companion Dan doesn’t do much, he is amiable and a pleasant addition. Semi-companion Jericho is also reasonably well developed. And I like the makeup and performance of the two villains, Swarm and Azure. And that’s it. The rest is junk.

OK, what went wrong: Two many story threads, many left dangling or missing parts. Far too many characters. Extra villains who are irrelevant and underdeveloped (Sontarans, Daleks, Cybermen, The Grand Serpent). Extra allies who were irrelevant and underdeveloped (Vinder, Bel, Kate). No emotions on events that deserve big emotions (trillions upon trillions have died and the universe is in ruins and no one shows any sign of caring). Lots of emotion shown when there’s no explanation of why they deserve any concern (why does the Doctor care about her past?). Vague motivations (what exactly did the Doctor do that so upset The Division? Bringing “hope” is not an answer). Really distracting concepts of the size of the universe (apparently it is very small) and of physics (matter “slows” antimatter…). Everything ended way to quickly.

Word is that the season was supposed to be 10 episodes long and got cut. OK, then there needed to be some re-writes before they started filming that removed things that didn’t matter to the story so that important things still had room.

Best “individual” ep: Village of the Angels
Worst “individual” ep: The Vanquishers

#13 Season 11

In comes a new Doctor and a new showrunner, creating a season of consistency. Unfortunately, it’s consistently not very good. It doesn’t have the worst episode, but it is close, and it never shines. A majority of the eps sit in the middle of the lower third of all modern Who. It’s easy to blame the generally drab writing, but the problem is larger, with the structure of the show. Perhaps three companions were too many. None of them develop personalities, or enough agency to do anything other than meekly obey The Doctor. And none of them have any kind of relationship with The Doctor. They are non-entities that hardly react, and when two of them are motivated by a recent death, not reacting is a huge problem. This is one of the worst depictions of widowhood I’ve ever seen.

Jodie Whittaker’s general take on The Doctor has potential, but that consistency becomes a problem again. She doesn’t change. Not only does she lack an arc (most Doctors don’t have one), she doesn’t behave any differently in different situations. She’s always the same. She’s a little breathless and rattles off exposition with a single tone. The playful childlike Doctor could work, but she needs to respond to her environment.

Chris Chibnall brings with him a dark, ugly aesthetic. He’s trying to make the show look more cinematic, but he lacks the skill and the money. The blocking is flat, the lighting is dim, and the colors are off. Oddly, to go with that, he makes the show more juvenile, with non-stop messaging to kids to “be the best you can be” and “gosh, you can overcome your disadvantages.” It’s both off-putting and twee.

Best ep: Demons of the Punjab
Worst ep: The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos

#11 Season 12

It’s like Season 11, with all its flaws, but a little better. Not much, but a little. The Doctor is still too unchanging, the companions are still drab and have no relationship with The Doctor (but do become petulant once, which is not an improvement), the production is still weak, and the message is still only suited to pre-teens, but individual eps are a step up. The big change was more references to older seasons, with a lot of returning villains, which isn’t in itself good, but the writers seemed to have a better idea of what to do with those.

There were multiple big reveals, that really didn’t mean much. The Doctor is the Timeless Child… So? How does that effect anything? Why would that effect anything? Big emotional arcs need to be emotional. This one isn’t, and, based on 50 years of the show, shouldn’t be. This is the one time the Doctor is emotional, but we’re given no reason why she’s emotional. Considering how often the Doctor has tossed off past personalities (and sometimes shown distain for past selves), why is this past important? The show needs to show us, not just assume that it is.

Best ep: The Haunting of Villa Diodati
Worst ep: Revolution of the Daleks

#12 Season 10

This was the season of unfulfilled potential. Peter Capaldi had perfected his Doctor in season 9 and then was given nothing to do with him. Bill was an interesting new companion, on paper, but never developed a rapport with the Doctor and was made into an idiot by the second ep, and truly annoying by the third. The Doctor was a professor (for 50 years) and that was ignored. The great mystery of the vault was no mystery at all and Missy’s arc promised to be the best part of the season but did nothing and petered out—that might be the season’s greatest flaw as it brings a memorable character to nothing after repeatedly building her up.

The individual episodes were surprisingly close in quality, with a majority ending up in the lowest third. Season 10 doesn’t sink to the abysmal lows of Season 8, but it has eight episodes in my lowest third. I count the Christmas episode Twice Upon a Time as part of season 10 instead of part of season 11 as is usually the case as it has The Doctor, companion, writer, and showrunner from season 10, all of which would change for season 11. And season 10 could use the help.

Best ep: Twice Upon a Time
Worst ep: The Pyramid at the End of the World / The Lie of the Land

#10 Season 8

If I gave equal weight to the bad episodes in a season, S8 would end up worse than S12, as this season has some truly awful eps. It has both the very worst and the third-worst. But it also has multiple mediocre eps, which isn’t something to be proud of, but is more than S11 or 12 can say.

Clara was weak and distracted. The Doctor was grumpy and miserable; in theory that could make a fine story, but in practice, it was simply unpleasant to watch. Past grumpy Doctors took some pleasure in it. Then there is the arc. Missy/Heaven turned out not to be the arc, as the little glimpses along the way were only preludes to a single two-part episode. The true arc was the Clara/Danny relationship, which was mishandled, starting with the lack of chemistry between the actors, and then going into the poor writing and underdevelopment of the two. It needed warmth, but we never saw that.

Best ep: Dark Water / Death in Heaven
Worst ep: Kill the Moon

#9 Season 7

Matt Smith’s final year was sloppy: Starting with a Xmas ep (the Narnia take-off Mother’s story) that didn’t require The Doctor, passing through some family Pond and overly moralistic eps, and then slipping into the whole “Clara is a Mystery” arc. That arc not only ended with a whimper and a cheat, but also was designed to strip Clara of all agency and strength. She was great in her two pre-companion appearances but then had all her personality stolen and she didn’t get it back till season 9. This season has only one ep in my top 3rd and four in my bottom 3rd.

Note: The 50th Anniversary and Eleven’s regeneration eps are not considered parts of season 7, belonging to no season, though they wouldn’t change 7’s placement if I included them.

Best ep: The Angels Take Manhattan
Worst ep: Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS

#8 Season 6

This is a strange season. With the exception of A Christmas Carol and The Doctor’s Wife, all the best episodes are part of the arc, but the arc completely falls apart into meaningless pudding and a huge cheat in the end. Still, I can’t recall having more fun with pudding and a cheat. Amy & Rory are the heart of it all and are engaging and funny. River is the icing. Those three together are a riot, producing some of the funniest episodes of the show, while also pulling at heartstrings.

The non-arc eps were a tangle of repeats, giving us another stupid healing machine, another horror story based on a kid needing love, another thick morality tale on identity, and another joke ep that included defeating cybermen with love.

Best Ep: A Christmas Carol
Worst Ep: The God Complex

#7 Season 9

A huge improvement over S8, S9 avoided the depths of S8 & S7, but rarely reached the top tier of episodes. It managed to break into my top 3rd, but only with the solid and emotional final eps, Heaven Sent and Hell Bent, and with the wonderful Christmas episode, The Husbands of River Song. Most of S9’s eps hovered a bit below the mid-point. What worked was the improved Doctor. They’ve never shifted the personality of a Doctor so noticeably before, and only Sylvester McCoy’s and William Hartnell’s come close. Gone is the man who hates everything. In comes the old rocker, and him I want to watch. Clara returned to a character worth watching by finally reverting to the person we first saw as Soufflé Girl.

The arc was a non-starter, since Moffat’s main concern seemed to be setting up red herrings. The hybrid, Missy, and “Me” came to very little and the Time Lords should have been left out of the season.

S9 just barely edges out S6, not due to overall quality, but by its best being a step up from S6’s best. There’s a good argument for moving it above the Specials, but its four eps in my lowest 3rd drag it down.

Best ep: The Husbands of River Song
Worst ep: Sleep No More

#6 The Specials “Season”

Not exactly a season, but with five oversized episodes, it manages a half-season. It’s a mixture of fluff, the ridiculous, and the brilliant. Both Planet of the Dead and The Next Doctor get a lot of undeserved hate in Who Fandom, mostly due to expectations (did they really think that the Next Doctor in The Next Doctor was going to be the Doctor?). They are both pleasant upper mid-tier eps.

After the buildup in The Waters of Mars, I’d have liked to have seen a final for Tennant dealing more with his slip into godhood, but the long, wandering goodbye was satisfying. If I could chop off the last 25 minutes of that rambling two-parter and make it into its own episode, it would be the best of the season and one of the greats.

Best ep: The Waters of Mars
Worst ep: The End of Time

#5 Season 5

Matt Smith takes over, switching The Doctor from a brilliant, dangerous, romantic figure to a cocaine-fueled, slapstick comedian. It’s a move toward the series’ roots as a kid’s show. Luckily kids shows can be fun, and this one is. Eleven works well in the light eps, but doesn’t pull off the serious ones, and never appears dangerous, though he is supposed to.

Amy is everything I’d want in a companion: strong, sexy, a bit wild, and smart. More than The Doctor, it is Amy who caries the season. Rory, the man who dies, starts off uninteresting, but improves greatly, though some of that shows more in later seasons. River is wonderful, but Alex Kingston has no chemistry with Matt Smith. This is more of a problem in season 6.

Both the plot arc and character arc are unusually heavy, with the crack in time not only mentioned in all the episodes but actually playing a part in many. Luckily, it was an arc that worked. The new Matt Smith music is excellent if overused.

Best ep: The Eleventh Hour
Worst ep: The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood

#4 Season 3

S3 was all over the place. Only Season 9 has as extreme quality changes. Leaping from The Family of Blood to The Daleks Take Manhattan can give you whiplash. However, most episodes are above the average. In the end, I rank it above S5 due to awarding more points for great episodes than the number I take away for terrible ones. And now, with so many weaker seasons, The Lazarus Experiment doesn’t seem quite as bad as it once did.

The arc is a complete failure for multiple reasons, but none more so than its ending, with mini-troll Doctor becoming Jesus due to the old Tinkerbell “kids wish really hard” shtick, the Master going for bad comedy, and the whole thing being undone. Basic rule with an seasonal arc: You have to stick the landing. This didn’t. Last of the Time Lords would be the worst ep if it wasn’t part of a two-parter, and gets slightly elevated by its first part.

Freema Agyeman could have made a good companion, but her Martha Jones was given nothing to do, and her failed love story was a bust.

On the other hand, don’t blink.

Best ep: Blink
Worst ep: The Lazarus Experiment

#3 Season 2

A new Doctor, and for my money, the best, along with a continuation of one of the great companions makes this a solid season. This was the most emotional season and the two leads had fantastic chemistry. The Torchwood/Alternate World/Cyberman arc is well done as it isn’t overly intrusive while telling a story and not cheating in the end. But S2 ends up in 3rd place because it can’t beat the writing for individual episodes in several of the other seasons. A majority of this season is in my top 3rd, with real standouts like The Girl in the Fireplace, and The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit, in addition to the arc-heavy eps, but it barely cracks my top 10 and has several episodes below the 50% mark (Fear Her, The Idiots Lantern).

Best ep: The Girl in the Fireplace
Worst ep: The Idiot’s Lantern

#2 Season 4

So much good: The Doctor is fantastic; Companion Donna starts overly shrill but ends up golden; The return of Martha, better than she was in her own season and of Rose, and both get better endings than they had previously. The Dalek/Doctor Donna arc is one of the best, finishing with a fan service episode that delivers exactly what this fan wanted while avoiding being embarrassing. And we get the introduction of River. There’s real emotion in these tales while also telling good stories and delving into the characters. Even the weaker episodes aren’t that weak, not compared to other seasons.

Season 4 has twelve episodes in my top 3rd (counting two-parters as 2), including multiple in the top 10.

Best ep: Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead
Worst ep: Midnight

#1 Season 1

It started with the best. With 12 eps in my top third, including #1, and none in the bottom 3rd, S1 easily ranks as the best season. The plot of the arc is wobbly, but the real arc is the change in The Doctor, from broken, angry warrior to a Time Lord with a future, and the growth of Rose, and those both work beautifully. Add in Captain Jack, meaning, emotion, and a lot of fun, and S1 sings. The only flaw is that there isn’t more of it as Christopher Eccleston was a great Doctor and there was a lot more that he could have done. But perhaps his arc wouldn’t have had quite the power if he’d stuck around, but I’d have been willing to chance that.

Best ep: The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances
Worst ep: BoomTown

Lists, Thoughts

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