Passing Sentences: May 5

Heroes, Five Years Gone: As I expected, this episode comes off as a much-improved take on the classic X-Men story, "Days of Future Past". The primary difference is the process of discovery - in DFP, Claremont lays it all out in the first few pages, as Kate Rasputin traipses through the barren ruins of Manhattan and then walks across a cemetery full of superheroes. But when Ando and Hiro materialize on the roof of the Deveaux building, the first thing they see is reconstruction, a deceptive image suggesting that things aren't as bad as you think. The truth, of course, is that this future is much closer to dystopia than it appears, at least for the Heroes. Likewise, there's a significant body count attached to this episode, the full scope of which isn't immediately apparent (or, for that matter, spelled out in its entirety - DL's fate, for example, is revealed only by the fact that Sylar can phase). Excellent episode overall, containing what I believe to be the single most spectacular twist in the series thus far. I'd also like to take a moment to note that Milo Ventimiglia has really filled out lately - he was never scrawny, but now...

Rowr.

My only complaint is with regards to Hana Gitelman, whose existence I continue to protest. Here's the thing: every week NBC puts out a tie-in minicomic that details some aspect of the series that hasn't seen screen time (ie: Eden's backstory). Of course, this potentially interesting avenue is negated by the fact that most, if not all, of the supplementary material is not only useless but often contradicts the series itself - for example, the comic that saw light before "Five Years Gone" depicts Future Hiro fighting a Sylar who's on the verge of exploding, needlessly confusing a plot point that's addressed quite neatly in the episode itself.

And then you have Hana Gitelman, a character who appeared in a grand total of one episode, whose storyline began and continues exclusively in the comics. So if you want to know more... hell, if you want to know anything about her, you're forced to read the tie-ins despite their extraneous nature. And, of course, because her story takes place off-screen, she only ever turns up on the show itself as a plot device, utterly interchangable with any generic character.

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Veronica Mars returns from its break with Un-American Graffiti, the first in a sequence of stand-alone episodes wrapping up the third season. Unfortunately, it hasn't quite bypassed the hurdles plaguing the season thus far: we're treated to yet more tiresome Parker/Logan/Veronica/Piz soap while the primary mystery is steeped in anvilisms - I appreciate the message behind the story, but not so much the mallet-to-the-face method of delivery. And worst of all, Enrico Colantoni came off as completely tired and lifeless, which is very much not the Keith Mars I've come to know and love. As much as I've adored this show, if this is the best they can do at the moment, it might be best to take a bow and leave the stage before things really go south.

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Meanwhile, Supernatural continues its "average-to-good" curve in What Is and What Never Should Be. On the one hand, it's the standard "utopia/wish fulfillment" stock plot, but on the other hand it avoids the usual pitfall of having the protagonist's every desire materialize. Dean gets something he wants, but not everything he wants, and that's important when it comes to the inevitable moment of choosing betwen illusion and reality (because it's a choice between two flawed and therefore similar worlds rather than perfection versus the truth). That, along with some solid character beats from Dean and the two Sams, pushes this episode past the usual "above-average" to "good".

This week also saw the release of Supernatural: Origins #1, a Wildstorm comic tie-in detailing the backstory of John Winchester. As with most tie-ins, there's a lack of correlation between the story being told here and the story as it was related to us on the show: in the first-season episode "Home", psychic Missouri Mosely tells Dean and Sam that when their father exhausted every rational option in investigating their mother's murder, he turned to the occult, whereas this issue depicts Missouri seeking John out. Of the two versions, I prefer the former, as it implicitly shows John gradually picking at his blindfold until he pulls it off, but... whatever. The highlight, IMO, is the touching backup strip (by Geoff Johns, of all people!) depicting Sam and Dean when they were kids, as Dean tries to reroute his brother's curiosity about Mary's demise so as to prevent Sam from entering the world of the supernatural. That's the sort of thing I wish the show emphasized more often: Dean's most basic contradiction is that he wanted Sam to have a normal life but couldn't help resenting his brother for leaving in pursuit of that life.

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Strings is a very charming Danish/Norwegian film that presents a typical fantasy tale in a revolutionary way: the cast is made up entirely of puppets whose strings are not only visible, but acknowledged as part of the fictional world. For example, in the opening moments of the movie, a character commits suicide by severing the string that holds his head up. In one of the most memorable scenes, a woman gives birth by unwrapping threads from her own strings and attaching those threads to the inert form of the baby, which promptly springs to life.

These are just two examples of how cleverly the technique is used. Unfortunately, the plot's nothing to write home about - good king usurped by his evil brother, noble prince sheds his classist ways to see the truth about his kingdom, big battle of good vs. evil, etc. It makes for a bizarre combination of a story you've probably seen a hundred times before, delivered in a way I doubt you've ever seen. Worth a casual viewing, for sure.

Passing Sentences: April 28

It's One Month Later... and everything has changed.

Well... maybe not. :)

Obviously, this week's highlight was the triumphant return of Heroes, with an episode that was very much worth the wait (that said, it's good to know there won't be any more interruptions this season). .07% delivers a bit of everything: some misdirection, some revelation, some great character moments, some long-awaited reunions, and a cliffhanger that has me on pins and needles for the next episode. I think one thing "Heroes" is doing particualrly well is applying correctives to some of the more powerful, recognizable stories in comics: Niki is essentially the Hulk except her alter ego has a personality beyond "Jessica Smash!", Linderman's scheme is an updated take on Adrian Veidt's master plan in "Watchmen" sans giant alien monster, next week's episode is "Days of Future Past" without killer robots, etc. As a rule, there are certain levels of implausibility we just have to accept when it comes to mainstream superhero stories; in fact, it's so deeply ingrained that modern attempts to invoke "realism" in the Marvel or DC universes tend to fail awkwardly (ie: "Civil War"). We, as readers, have already accepted cosmic rays and Nordic gods and giant fork-headed planet eaters, so dropping a Superhero Registration Act on top of that just doesn't work. "Heroes", having never asked us to believe in naked silver guys riding surfboards through space, is able to breach that barrier and take the whole conflation of "realistic fantasy" to a new level.

Drive was cancelled before I got a chance to check it out. Pity: I loves me the Fillion.

Christie Golden's Warcraft: Rise of the Horde ended up being a thoroughly disappointing read: pedestrian, transparent, and way too intent on making the Orcs seem like gullible, naive victims even as the narrator insists that they knowingly condemned themselves. The whole good/evil schism is taken to cartoonish extremes: the draenei are ridiculously benevolent, the Orcs shockingly simple-minded, the Burning Legion unidimensionally bad. Bo-ring.

Supernatural, Folsom Prison Blues: Another by-the-numbers episode, servicably entertaining without hitting any particular highs or lows.

The recent conclusion of Girls left me a bit cold; on the one hand, I never expected the people of Pennystown to really figure out what was going on, but on the other hand, the series ends without much closure at all, emotionally or plotwise. Given that the Lunas focused far more on the human cast members as protagonists than on the mysterious Girls, it's a bit of a surprise to see all the attention in this double-sized finale given to the "sperm-monster" and its mission - we don't really get to grieve for the dead, or see how the survivors deal with the aftermath. A disappointing end to an interesting series.

Final Fantasy IV Advance: Having completed "Dawn of Souls" (which I highly recommend), I've started the first GBA remake of the SNES trilogy. It's a bit glitchy - the buttons tend to stick, and encounter rate/ATB is way off - but the retranslated script is excellent, and the graphics have been tweaked just enough that I don't feel like I'm just replaying the same old game again.

Oh dear.

I honestly don't know where the time's gone...

* "Poor Unfortunate Souls" by the Jonas Brothers is just the cutest Disney remake I've ever heard. Teen rock meets Ursula. I love it!

* Yoko Shimomura has outdone herself with the box set soundtrack of "Kingdom Hearts" (available only in Japan - thanks, Jonathan!). The added tracks for KH2 are wonderful, but what really impressed me was "Lord of the Castle", the new final boss track for "Chain of Memories"; when the orchestra kicks in around 1:40, it easily matches "Darkness of the Unknown" for energy and rhythm.

* I'm in the middle of "Final Fantasy II" (the Dawn of Souls remake) and ye Gods, I hate this gameplay system so very, very much. But the story's quite good.

* Just a few words about the series finale of Rome: on some level, it was perhaps the episode most strongly bound by historical context - we know what happens at Actium, we know what it means for the losing side of the war. That might account for the largely anticlimactic feeling I got by the time it was over; for all that Purefoy and Marshall delivered Emmy-level performances, there's no real surprise. Also, I'm not sure why Vorenus' fate was conveyed so ambiguously (we don't see him die, but Pullo later says he did, but Pullo's lying to Octavian anyway, etc.). And I'm also displeased with the fact that, looking back, Timon's subplot ended two weeks ago. It's not that I really wanted to see him again, but I think I'd been waiting for a more thorough degree of closure (because "Let's go to Jerusalem!" is never a sentence that leads to "Happily ever after"). And finally, much love to Polly Walker for batting it out of the goddamned ballpark, acting-wise: forget Simon Woods, that penultimate scene at the triumph was all her.

* Starcrossed was a 15-minute film by James Burkhammer that raised quite a few eyebrows, though I'm not too clear on why. Yes, it tackles the incest taboo head-on, but it's hardly the first film to do so... and unlike "Harry and Max", which at least admits that seducing your brother has perks but will screw your head up something horrid, "Starcrossed" plays it as the standard Romeo-and-Juliet plot: Connor falls in love with his older brother Darren, "teh sexxx" is had, they're discovered, and they decide to cash in their chips and kill themselves. See, it's missing something. Whenever I think of the quintessential suicide pact storyline, it's not "Romeo and Juliet" that comes to mind but "Thelma and Louise", because the latter added something to the formula: when the situation becomes untenable, you can at least try to run. Because, IMO, if you feel so strongly about someone or something that you're willing to defy social conventions, you're not going to give up easily. It's when you can run no further that you drive off a cliff. "Starcrossed", by contrast, has Darren and Connor giving up without much of a fight, and what the film suggests is that the story couldn't have ended any other way - even though Burkhammer never puts a negative slant on the relationship to begin with. So it's a bit garbled, and the acting's only so-so, and the plot is utterly, thoroughly standard, so I don't see what the big deal is.

* Heroes retrospective catch-up to follow soon (hopefully).

Passing Sentences: March 25

Rome, Deus Impeditio Esuritori Nullus: The penultimate episode takes another leap ahead, but as kazekage points out, the narrative flow somehow remains intact despite the considerable jumps and hiccups in time, even though we're never very sure when we are, so to speak. Anyway, the Octavian/Livia sex scene was fascinating because it's another example of a Roman woman turning the tables on a powerful man - Livia has managed to exploit Octavian's S&M fetish without him laying a finger on her. The fact that the actress bears an unsettling resemblence to Christina Ricci helps a lot. As for the body count, it's just Gaia this time, and apparently Memmio wasn't dead after all (nice reveal there), and I like that we fast-forwarded through the entire Gaia/Pullo relationship just to put her in the same position Eirene was in, because it brings up all sorts of comparisons - not least of which that Gaia is essentially guilty of the same thing Pullo did to get Eirene in the first place. The only difference is that she at least cops to what she did, and accepts the punishment that follows. I have to admit, I didn't expect to sympathize with her... but I did, in the end. Some more quick observations: the decadence of Cleopatra's court was well-portrayed, it was nice to see Niobe again for a few moments, and I love that Atia has been transformed into Servilia, using her son to crush her unfaithful lover and those aligned with him (the difference being that, as history tells us, Atia will succeed where Servilia failed).

Supernatural, Heart: Yikes. Seeing Jared Padalecki shirtless was a lot scarier than it was last year, as he seems to have acquired a set of vein-streaked bulging muscles that wouldn't look out of place on a professional wrestler. Poor boy looks like he's on steroids or something. Anyway, this one was a little too transparent for my tastes - Madison (guest star Emanuelle Vaugier) was obviously a "shake and bake" character, in the sense that she only existed for the purpose of sharing an instant attraction with Sam. In fact, I don't know that we can rightly call her a character, since she's just a bunch of stereotypes and cliches that are preconfigured to work off Sam's established personality traits. All in all, it comes off like Jared Padalecki had a sex scene quota to fill and they just tossed in whoever was on call at the time.

Beauty and the Beast, Once Upon A Time: My pal Tink recommended this late '80s romance series, an urban take on the popular fairy tale. I've only been able to acquire the pilot so far, but I like what I see: it's charmingly antiquated, both in the '80s sense (oh God I'd forgotten about the shoulder pads) and in the use of classic tropes like the spiral staircase, the romanticism of poverty and the underworld, a damsel in distress rescued by a gallant but cursed stranger... but, of course, the damsel is Linda Hamilton so you just know a can of whoop-ass is going to get opened sooner or later, and Ron Perlman (as Vincent, the Beast) plays his part on the down-low rather than ham it up. It really works, and I'm looking forward to more.

Warcraft: The Last Guardian: At some recent point in its development, the backstory and lore of "Warcraft" became a horribly complicated thing. Villains were retconned as pawns of other villains, who were themselves corrupted by an even greater evil... oh, and they have spaceships now. On some level, this was inevitable once the franchise moved into the MMORPG field, where everything is always fluid and open to revision. So in that context, Jeff Grubb's novel "The Last Guardian" is a real treat, as it goes back to much simpler times, exploring events that are set in the pre-narrative world. It's the story of Khadgar (who would later appear in the "Beyond The Dark Portal" expansion), set shortly before the First War, as he begins his apprenticeship to the not-yet-infamous Medivh. Grubb successfully brings this part of Warcraft's history to life, going back to its medieval, swords-and-sorcery roots; if you've played the games, you'll know the answers to the big mysteries (where the Orcs come from, who brought them to Azeroth, what's really wrong with Medivh), but Grubb's dramatization of events that were only ever referenced in the games is a major hook - one chapter, for example, has Khadgar experiencing a vision of Magna Aegwynn's war with Sargeras and the Burning Legion, and it's a very impressive sequence. I recommend "The Last Guardian" to anyone looking for a fun flashback to when things weren't so damned bizarre in the Warcraftverse.

Passing Sentences: March 16

Hellboy - Sword of Storms: So close. This animated movie did almost everything right: it appropriated Japanese demonology fairly well, presented accurate characterizations of the main cast (for better or worse - I found Liz Sherman to be as irritating as she is in the comics, which counts as a mark of accuracy, I guess), and had some great action scenes... it also has one of the most abrupt and unsatisfying endings I've ever seen in comic adaptations. Horribly anticlimactic, to the point where it really ruins the film.

Invincible Iron Man: Another kinda-sorta-okay cartoon flick. Again, the technical quality is very good, a near-seamless blend of conventional animation and CGI, and the voice acting's strong - somehow, it seems completely appropriate for Tony to have a phone sex operator voice, even if this movie's supposedly PG. But anyway, it's a surprisingly old-school interpretation of Iron Man as the rich, sex-addled playboy who just happens to whip up Iron Man suits in his spare time. The Mandarin revamp was nice too. But once again I can't help but feel a little disappointed with the end result - not so much because there's anything wrong with the film's climax and conclusion, but because everything more or less plays out the way you'd expect it. I don't know if being formulaic is a bad thing, given that this is supposed to be an introductory vehicle for the character to the mainstream audience (even though this version of Iron Man no longer exists in the wake of "Civil War"), but it just wasn't exciting or unpredictable for me at any point. Well, okay, except for that scene where Pepper Potts walks in on Tony in the shower, casually opens the door and delivers her report without once looking south. Realistic? No. But impressive nonetheless. :)

Rome, Death Mask: Last week's episode, which I missed. Anyway, it's a very apt title - we have two marriages, lots of sex, at least one pregnancy, but death hangs over everything, very much like a mask. The cast is whittled down a little more, and losing Servilia (and Eleni) was a major shock not just because I didn't see it coming, but because she doesn't achieve anything in death. I don't think I ever felt much sympathy towards her, given that - in this version of history - she caused three civil wars and countless deaths because her sekrit MARRIED boyfriend dumped her ass. But she loses everything as a result of her own pettiness, to the point where she can't even muster the strength to deliver a last blow more substantial than ineffectual curses (I mean, last time she put the Evil Whammy on Caesar, he defeated Pompey and won the Egyptian campaign). So it's kind of sad on that level.

Rome, A Necessary Fiction: Another two recurring characters meet their end, and unlike the previous episode, I was happy to see both of them go. Memmio's scum, so no big loss there. Eirene, though... I always had a problem with Eirene, and not because she was cockblocking Vorenus and Pullo. It's more that she never had much of a personality, or any kind of character arc, that made her more than a piece of furniture. I mean, if you compare her to Niobe, it's not just that Indira Varma was a better actress, it's that she had a function that went beyond just being her husband's anchor. She had a whole seasonal arc about her secret, and her attempts to enter Roman high society, and her reconciliation with Vorenus after their long separation. Eirene never did anything, despite the fact that she had motive - from the moment she agreed to marry Pullo, I was sure she was plotting to get revenge on him for turning her last boyfriend's head into coleslaw. Not only did that not happen, but the summation of her life on-screen was Slave, Wife, Pregnant, Dead. The only effect her death had was showing us that Vorenus is much less a friend to Pullo than Pullo was to him (compare Pullo's grieving process and Vorenus' participation to the reverse when Niobe died), and, well, that's hardly something that'd make me remember Eirene fondly. So long, doormat.

Veronica Mars, Papa's Cabin: I'd completely overlooked this episode when it aired, which probably says more than I'm comfortable saying about where "Veronica Mars" is located on my list of priorities. This is the first mystery that ends with Veronica having the upper hand throughout, and she knows it, and her enemy knows it, and there is no physical violence of any kind. And you know what? It worked for me. The Landry/Mindy/Batando axis got a bit too convoluted towards the end, but it wrapped up nicely and I thought that last scene - with Keith glibly realizing there's no point in trying to shield Veronica from the world's uglier moments - would have been perfect as a series finale. Of course, I later discovered that the series is in danger of cancellation yet again, and if it does survive this time it'll undergo a paradigm shift even greater than the ones that came before it... although now that I think about it, there's something appealing about skipping down the timeline, ditching most of the cast and tightening up the focus on Veronica herself. It just might work if it's given the chance.

Supernatural, Roadkill: Eh. Nice twist with Molly's true nature, but this is going back to "Houses of the Holy" in terms of tasteless filler.

Marvel - Ultimate Alliance: Magnificent game, but when held up to its predecessor "X-Men Legends 2", it loses just a bit. I'll admit that the graphics are outstanding, the plot's better, and there's a significantly greater variety in terms of settings, gameplay sequences (ie: the reflex/puzzle-oriented boss battles, the minigames, the optional quests, etc.) and character selection, which means the replayability factor is much higher than XML2... but at the same time, the auto-target is very unreliable (especially problematic for someone like Storm, whose primary offensive powers aren't line-of-sight), using powers can be sluggish, inventory has been downsized so every character can only equip one item (and there's not a single item that's really worth seeking out), and your inability to set your characters' stats pretty much forces you to pick and choose your team members based on attributes you can't control or change.

As with XML2, Simulator missions ensure you get a chance to control every hero (except for the secret ones, obviously), so you can get a clear fix on which heroes work best for you. Unlike XML2, skins (costumes) actually have a function here, each with their own bonuses, but they can only be gained by killing lots and lots of enemies (or, for the most powerful skin, by completing the character's personalized Simulator challenge). Both powers and skins can be upgraded with obscene amounts of money, but since money has no real value anywhere else in the game, you might as well spend that million on another skill point. There also doesn't seem to be any set pattern to powering up: sometimes gaining just one level is enough to advance an ability, sometimes you need two skill points, sometimes three or four.

Still, even with its flaws, "Ultimate Alliance" is a must-play game for any Marvel fan (and even moreso for lapsed Marvel fans, as this game really recaptures some of the MU's best attributes). I started out with Storm, Spider-Woman, Deadpool and Ms. Marvel, and slowly cycled in hidden characters until I had Silver Surfer, Doctor Strange, Daredevil and Iron Man. Much fun was had by all. :)

Dragonsphere: Despite the antiquated graphics and atrocious voice-acting, "Dragonsphere" has real substance. It's pretty short, as fantasy/adventure games go, but it manages to create a world that is at once familiar via the usual Tolkienesque tropes and new, strange, unknown. It also helps that the game is very forgiving: while you can make mistakes that will get you killed, you will immediately resume from the point prior to the fatal error, allowing you to learn from your missteps without interrupting the story flow.

Passing Sentences #5

Heroes, Company Man: I'm a bit conflicted about this one. On the one hand, I liked how the flashbacks were worked in, and there were plenty of interesting revelations and strong character moments both in the past and in the present. But I'm not sure this episode actually answered any questions I brought to the table: What is Mr. Bennet's first name and why is it such a big deal? How did he get involved with the organization? If they don't have Suresh's list, how are they finding the Heroes? What exactly are they doing to the Heroes? (Bennet says tagging and releasing, but they're clearly responsible for powering up Matt, Ted and Isaac, and Claude mentions vivisections...) And where the hell did present-day Eric Roberts come from? A bit uneven, then, but very effective in terms of changing our perception of a character (possibly two, I doubt I'll be feeling any sympathy for Ted in the near future).

Brick: Oy, what a misfire. I'm sorry, I get it's supposed to be noir-meets-high-school, but hearing Joseph Gordon Levitt talk about taking the heat and shaking the trees and ratting out the finks just veers into comical territory for me. Like "Sin City" before it, there's something inherently ridiculous about the way "Brick" slavishly follows its chosen genre; for starters, we're not living in the pulp era anymore, so injecting archaic dialogue into a modern-day setting only serves to point out how silly noir can be in any other context (insert random Frank Miller parody here). Also, these films follow the pre-established generic patterns so closely that there's no real surprise - yes, the black-clad mystery girl will be a femme fatale, and she's probably the real mastermind behind the story, and drugs will be involved, and the crimelord's top thug has his own dirty secret, etc. On some level, "Brick" is just regurgitating the old tropes via new faces, and I imagine it'd be terminally boring to anyone who's experienced the genre before, in any capacity.

Runaways, Live Fast / Doctor Strange: The Oath: In which Marvel says goodbye to Brian Vaughan, and is all the more creatively barren for it. There was something suitably low-key about "Live Fast" as the coda to Vaughan's run; nobody died, no grand revelation changed everything we knew forever, but at the same time there's an air of finality even before Iron Man bursts in to remind everyone that there's this thing called "Civil War" and maybe you'd like to read it (the "death" of a unique book via invasion of a mega-crossover: meta-text? Surely not). But anyway, I'm definitely going to miss Vaughan on this series - with the news that Whedon's run is in fact limited to six issues, this feels much more like an ending than it should, with only an epilogue to look forward to.

Meanwhile, Joe Quesada and I have our differences, but one of the very, very few things we agree on is the problematic status of Doctor Strange. Specifically, the Sorcerer Supreme has always been a tempting figure for lazy writers to use as a deus ex machina - just wheel him in to do some hocus-pocus and the day is saved. Brian Bendis ever-so-helpfully demonstrated this during "Avengers Disassembled" and "House of M" (and God only knows what "New Avengers" will look like), and Quesada has a point when he claims that Marvel's amorphous definition of magic basically puts Strange in a quasi-omnipotent position. Vaughan offers the simplest solution: rather than try to redefine magic (a task apparently assigned to the upcoming "Mystic Arcana" miniseries), all that's required is to put Doctor Strange's enemies on his level and make the story a mystery that requires unraveling, rather than a solution that can be instantly achieved with some arcane alliteration. That way, Strange can't just wave a magic wand and set things right. In the process, Vaughan unsurprisingly delivers excellent characterization of Strange, Wong and the Night Nurse, so much so that I desperately wanted this to be the first arc of an ongoing series.

With "Y: The Last Man" going bimonthly as it enters its final arc, and only a four-issue run on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" in the immediate future, I can't help feeling like the industry is losing one of its brightest, most talented stars. And for sodding Lost, of all things. Let's hope Vertigo snatches him up for another 60-issue series, eh?

Passing Sentences #4

Death was working overtime this week; good thing her mascara never runs.

Rome, Philippi: Whatever artistic license "Rome" may employ in depicting historical events and persons, certain aspects are immutable. In that sense, there's little point in depicting the Battle of Philippi as though it could unfold any other way. Fortunately, Bruno Heller is a step ahead of his audience: rather than focus on the question of who wins (a question to which we already know the answer; take note, George Lucas!), Heller shifts the emphasis of this climactic episode to the emotional context. This is, after all, the point where the bodies start piling up, among them characters who've been with us from the start. It's one thing to know Brutus, Cassius and Cicero are doomed; it's another to see Pullo execute the cowardly-but-resigned Senator in full view of a wailing slave, or watch Cassius slip away amidst talk of his birthday. And Brutus... poor, vanquished Brutus gets a death that's quite different from that of his non-fictional counterpart, and yet it works so much better: heroic in one sense, suicidal in another, poetic justice in a third, and all that is conflated in a few bloody, poignant moments.

Heroes, Unexpected: Death makes another pit-stop, and this time she picks up someone I wasn't very fond of. Simone Deveaux has been a problem for me since day one, largely because of her wishy-washy nature. I mean, she dies while bringing back Isaac's key for the third fucking time in two episodes. Sure, I could be charitable and call it evidence of a conflicted heart, except that... well, what did we know about Simone outside the context of other characters? Did she ever do anything but faciliate another protagonist's plotline (sending Hiro to Vegas, revealing Claire's location to Peter, dumping Isaac so he'd be motivated to switch sides, etc.)? Even her death serves only the purpose of cementing the rivalry between Peter and Isaac (and now I'm wondering if Sylar had anything to do with Isaac's fate in episode 2). I'd feel the same way had the victim been Janice Parkman, Matt's wife - it's pretty difficult to care about the fate of a plot device. If anything, I'm glad she's gone because that complicates matters, and forces the characters who actually matter to find less convenient ways of moving along. I was more inclined to feel bad about losing Dale, even though she was only on for two scenes (side note: Zach Quinto is getting disturbingly hotter every week).

Anyway, the Stan Lee cameo was adorable (because, you see, he's a bus driver, a ferryman transporting Hiro from one kind of journey to another, and whether it's more or less heroic than the first depends entirely on how you like your comics), I really hope we haven't seen the last of Claude, and Milo Ventimiglia rocks the Dark Phoenix impression. It's interesting that Ventimiglia, like Jared Padalecki, communicates menace, rage and malice so well; could it be that the WB has been misfiring its castings all these years, and the pretty boys should have been villains all along? Or maybe it's the years of playing sanitized twerps that has them putting a little extra oomph into being bad.

Veronica Mars, Mars, Bars: Aw, Death, it's like you're apologizing for taking away my Menzies by purging TV of annoying people. :) Incompetence, obnoxiousness, sleaziness... all these adjectives (and more besides) describe Sheriff Don Lamb, who was sent rocketing to Hell this week courtesy of Richard Grieco (himself on an express train to Mephisto's Pit of Talent-Free Torment). While we may pity the quite-attractive Michael Muhney, let's not forget that Lamb thinks tough love is the way to go with rape victims, and he's never solved a case on his own, and he pissed off Lucy Lawless.

Someone at the Television Without Pity forum made an interesting comment about Lamb's death in the context of the entire series: somewhere along the line, "Veronica Mars" quietly shifted out of the noir (or rather, neo-noir) genre, and Rob Thomas might not be compensating enough for that. Lamb, after all, represented the law as a helpless (at best) or corrupt (at worst) institution. Removing him, and replacing him with someone who we know is both benevolent and reliable, doesn't quite work in a universe aligned against our protagonist (which was always the justification for Veronica's attitude). In terms of the power balance, Veronica seems to be much more in control of herself and the world around her than she should be - to wit, her utter domination of Logan in their relationship, to the extent that even when he dumps her, she makes the move that brings them back together, and then breaks it off herself. That might be precisely the problem that's causing this feeling of ennui; Thomas never defined the series again after the noir trappings were removed.

A Valentine sideplot featuring Bronson, Mac, Parker and Logan was thoroughly enjoyable in a fluffy sort of way... but, see, that's indicative of an identity crisis too, because as much fun as fluff can be, it simply hasn't been a part of Veronica's world until now.

Children of Men: It was beautiful. It was horrible. It was simple. It was complex. It made me cry. It made me smile. It was fucking depressing and ridiculously uplifting and I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it. In keeping with the Theme of the Week, "Children of Men" stands as another example of how death can be an incredibly powerful emotional catalyst for the reader/viewer... and, conversely, how the concept of life (new life, to be specific) can change everything. There's something about the way this film uses death: it starts with the murder of a character we never meet but whose influence is inescapable, and it goes on to ruthlessly whittle down the supporting cast in such a way that you can't help feeling each loss, and yet it ultimately turns out that death isn't the point of the movie at all. It's something much more profound than that. As an aside, I wish I hadn't seen this right after the above episode of "Rome", because that one-two punch had me sobbing into my pillow until three in the morning. Between "Children of Men" and "The Prestige", my faith in cinema - or rather, the potential inherent in cinema - is slowly but surely being restored.

Civil War: I never get tired of seeing how out-of-touch the Marvel admins are with what actually sees print under their watch. To wit, Tom Brevoort recently gave Newsarama an interview where he offers up a script excerpt about the moment that decides the outcome of the war - an excerpt that makes sense of the whole issue, and says quite a bit about the leaders of the two factions. There's just one problem: that excerpt doesn't actually appear in Civil War #7. Nothing remotely similar to that excerpt appears in Civil War #7. Which accounts for the current outrage sweeping the boards.

(As an aside, Brevoort has also contradicted Joe Quesada yet again, claiming Mark Millar had planned the whole thing out in advance while Quesada's constantly reminding us of how Joss Whedon swooped to the rescue and helped shape the conclusion of the story. Oops.)

In any event, I don't have much to say about this debacle: I made the choice, back when it was first announced, to avoid "Civil War" in its entirety, and I've done just that - sure, it's nice to know that it was the right call (for me, at any rate), but at this point I'm far more interested in critical response to "Civil War" than anything the actual event could offer.

Ray of light? I do believe that "World War Hulk" and the impending X-Men crossover will fare better than their predecessors, if only because - for the first time in recent memory - the writers involved actually stand a chance in hell of pulling it off. See, this is the truth I've discovered with regards to comics: it's very, very easy to glean what a creator is and is not capable of, just by giving their past bodies of work (which are eminently accessible) a glance. Just because Marvel lacks any kind of discerning perspective doesn't mean we as readers suffer the same liabilities - we might, for example, question the idea of a subtle, complex tale of political intrigue being assigned to Mark "Mjolnir" Millar (the guy who wrote "Red Son", "The Authority", and "Ultimates" for God's sake!). And this, I think, is a big part of the problem: the writing is, and has always been, on the wall, but it has become the habit of the greater part of fandom to only take a look long after it ceases to matter. Sure, you can jump up and rage about "Civil War" now - #7's out, Marvel made a lot of money, and from their point of view it hardly matters if the end result is embraced or not. Their primary mission - cashing in - was achieved. Now, if the Zombies had said no a bit earlier (like, say, issue #2), maybe things would've been different.

Maybe.

Passing Sentences #3

Rome, Heroes of the Republic: This episode marks the mid-season point, and it's been a pretty wild ride so far. In five weeks, we've jumped from Caesar's assassination to the birth of the Second Triumvirate; Vorenus went Dark Side, Octavian got a full-body makeover, Brutus lost his mind, Timon found religion, and Atia and Servilia decided to stop playing nice, because encouraging incest and having your enemy stripped and humiliated in the streets just isn't permanent enough.

It's rushed, no question about it. I accept that, because there's no choice; HBO has a limited amount of episodes to get us from last season's end-point (Caesar's death) to the next optimal jumping-off point (Augustus), while keeping every other plotline from the previous season running. But even with (necessary) compression wreaking havoc on the timeline and on balanced screen-time (Eirene who?), I'm constantly amazed at how nuanced "Rome" can be. To wit, I realized the other day that there's a near-constant tension between the characters as they are now and as they were when the story began. It's as if they're all caught in a state of flux, vacillating between their past and present selves. Octavian reaches adulthood and makes it on his own, only to become his mother's puppet again. Vorenus and Pullo have practically swapped bodies - now Pullo's the domestic, moral man while Vorenus steeps himself in violence, darkness and sex. Brutus plunges into the depths of guilt and anguish, and comes out the other side leading an army, just as he did before (and more importantly, just as his ancestors did, and just as Servilia expects him to).

And that whole mess is a microcosm of Rome itself, caught in the tides of history, going back and forth between the Republic of the past and the Empire of the future, and nobody's sure what they're supposed to do or where they're supposed to stand.

I'm really going to miss this show when it's gone.

Heroes, Run!: Not quite as fulfilling as I'd hoped, because the plot only mimicked forward movement without really going anywhere. So, yeah, Nathan is Claire's father, but she doesn't even see him or get his name. Meredith's a golddigger who's set to disappear again. Hiro and Ando get sidetracked again. "Mohinder's List" starts rolling, and it just serves to pull Sylar in so he'll be involved in an ongoing plotline. Matt and Jessica throw down, and you'd think something huge would happen there, but... well, no. So it's more or less an exercise in wheel-spinning.

Veronica Mars, Postgame Mortem: O-kay, now we've got another multi-episode murder investigation involving both Keith and Veronica, on top of the ongoing Dean O'Dell mystery, concerning a character we've seen exactly once before. Hmm. Then again, both cases progressed this week, while accomodating a rather cute Logan sequence where he gets his groove back thanks to the little God Girl from "Joan of Arcadia". Not so bad, then.

Supernatural, Tall Tales: Another really good one, though for completely different reasons than last week. Bobby arrives to find the Winchester boys bickering and at a total loss regarding their current case, which seems to involve everything from vengeful spirits to alien abductions. Dean and Sam alternately fill Bobby in through flashbacks, though each brother puts his own spin on the story (I can't believe I'm saying this, but excellent acting from both Ackles and Padalecki - and hey, that's two finger-snaps in a row for the Pads!). It's a very lighthearted episode, a surprising but welcome relief from the unrelenting angst of season 2 so far. Not that the angst hasn't been good, in moderation, but it's nice to get a little something different now and again.

Man of the Year: I've always ever had the one problem with Robin Williams - he has a certain way of line-delivery (especially the ones with comedic slants) that just blurs together all the characters he's ever played. I look at Tom Dobbs and I see Patch Adams, Philip Brainard, Alan Parrish, Peter Banning and Daniel Hilliard. It's not that he isn't funny on occasion (though I wasn't especially amused by this film), it's that I never get the feeling he's actually separating the roles in his head, as opposed to just pulling out one generic character and slapping multiple names on it.

Starsky and Hutch: While channel-surfing late last night, I stumbled onto two episodes of "Starsky and Hutch", the series finale and an episode where Hutch is forcibly addicted to heroin. I doubt I'm going to go looking for more, but it was okay, a nice way to pass some time. And those two were so doing it. :)

Thunderbolts: I said I'd give Warren Ellis two issues. I did. And I still have no idea whether this is working for me or not. I think I'll err on the side of caution for now (also, Ellis, not exactly batting a million these days) and drop it.

Batman: Dark Moon Rising: Still on the subject of comics - awesome stories by Matt Wagner (was there ever any doubt?), very evocative of Miller circa Year One without making the common mistake of aping him so closely the thing descends into parody (see: "Spider-Man: Reign"). And I was all set to give this the big review and the many praises it deserves, but then I'd just get depressed that something like "Dark Moon Rising" is the exception and not the rule, and why hasn't anyone signed Wagner on for more work, huh? And where the fuck are those Grendel trades?! So let me just say that it's an excellent mini-series telling somewhat unconventional tales of the Dark Knight, with a touch of the old Grendel flair, and that just makes for fun reading. See, Dan DiDio? Batman can be fun! And we didn't run screaming like our hair's on fire! Try it sometimes!

Passing Sentences #2

Very, very, very late, because I haven't been able to access LJ since Friday. :(

Rome, Testudo et Lepus: I don't quite know what to think of Simon Woods as the new Octavian; we'll see how that turns out, I suppose. The Atia/Servilia feud hits an all-time high in visceral horror, and I like that neither woman has ever been portrayed as the "good guy" in the conflict; sure, Atia started the whole thing by breaking up Caesar and Servilia, but Servilia's really gone above and beyond appropriate actions for a scorned lover. The Timon subplot seems a bit forced, in that he seemed perfectly willing to kill Servilia back when Cleopatra blew into town, but whatever. And yes, I bawled like a two-year-old when Vorenus reunited with his family. "Rome" really knows how to hit the emotional jugular.

Heroes, Distractions: Yeah, George Takei was awesome. And Zach Quinto's Sylar? Finally scary - ever since they pulled the big reveal, he hasn't felt like a genuine threat until now. I like that Claude isn't quite the omniscient Yoda everyone expected him to be, because he's wrong about how Peter's ability works. Of course, the breaking of that cliche comes somewhat at odds with Nathan being Claire's biodad, but that twist doesn't bother me much given that, from the very first episode, we've seen the cast interacting in ways even they weren't aware of. Everyone's connected.

Veronica Mars, There's Got To Be A Morning After Pill: The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round... it's probably a bad sign when I agree with Dick Casablancas about anything, but seriously, Logan: get up, shut up, grow up.

Supernatural, Born Under A Bad Sign: If this show keeps vacillating between excellent and subpar episodes, I'm going to be seasick. Last week was dull as paste; this week? Pure awesomeness. Curiously, Jared Padalecki seems much more comfortable as a villain, exuding a subtle but tangible menace that - after two years of watching this show - I never would have expected from him. Warning lights are on, though, because Kripke said this episode was supposed to resolve some issues, and at first it seems things are moving forward with the whole "Sam's Destiny" thing, except it all turns out to be a feint. Again. For all that Kripke's saying he doesn't want this to be "X-Files" again, and he doesn't want to deny the audience answers for so long that they stop caring... well, between this and the whole bait-and-switch they pulled at the end of "Croatoan", I have to wonder.

The Dresden Files: Hmm. The first episode didn't make much of an impression on me, probably because it starts in medias res (the sequence was messed up, with the origin story airing at a later date than was intended) but also because the writing's kind of mediocre and I didn't get a good handle on any of the characters. I think I'll let this one develop some more before going back to it, nothing about it really grabbed my attention.

The Prestige: Yes, I'm late to the party as always, but WOW. On some level, this movie was practically guaranteed to please me - I like Christopher Nolan's style, I'm a fan of both Christopher Bale and Hugh Jackman, and the high concept of two magicians at war with each other is quite interesting. But to top it all off, "The Prestige" delivers a complex, multi-layered story, making use of multiple framing narratives (Borden is reading Angier's diary, which describes Angier reading Borden's diary, and there's something about that back-and-forth reflection that's so appropriate given their relationship). Nolan masterfully chops up the timeline for maximum suspense and surprise without ever going so far as to lose the viewer. In a way, the film is a magic trick in itself, with the added bonus that in the end, you learn the secret behind the trick, and you still ask yourself how they did it.

The Night Driver: A graphic novel courtesy of... well, I'm not quite sure. CinemaGraphix and Moonstone, and apparently it was written by John Cork in another medium and then adapted into comics by Christopher Mills (of the webcomic "Femme Fatale"). Anyway, this is precisely the kind of disturbing mindfuck I can really get into: questions of identity, memory, criminality, and it's all tinged with just a bit of surrealism until you suddenly understand what's going on.

Passing Sentences #1

Sort of a new feature I'm trying out: extra-short reviews of stuff I've seen this week.

Rome, These Being The Words of Marcus Tullius Cicero: Quite possibly the best thing currently on TV (narrowly beating out "Heroes" thanks to the copious amounts of male nudity), and this episode was no exception. Awesome blend of the political and the personal. But I miss Max Pirkis already. :(

Heroes, The Fix: I don't get why they insist on calling Peter an empath, or how Hiro got so nuts over the Magic Sword, but those are minor nitpicks and everything else is still running strong. And it's nice to see Sylar's still in the game.

Veronica Mars, Poughkeepsie, Tramps and Thieves: Oh God, please, enough with the melodrama already! How many times are Veronica and Logan going to break up this year? Don't either of them have anything better to do?

Supernatural, Touched: Meh. After last week's exciting developments, Eric Kripke wastes an hour trying to tackle The God Question. Which is pointless, since he hasn't established any concrete mythologies in the Supernaturalverse anyway. Better luck next time, I suppose.

Order of the Stick: It's been a great couple of months for OotS fans - Elan and Haley got together, the threat of Xykon is steadily growing, and this week saw Miko Miyazaki's fall from grace. That, and the subsequent smackdown, has been long overdue, and the payoff was flawless.

Friendly Hostility: In her annotations, Sandra says the point of this week's storyline (Collin had a sex dream about his straight friend Arath) was to underscore Collin's insecurities about Fox and women (because Fox has sex dreams about women all the time). I can't quite connect the dots on that one, as it seems more natural that Collin would angry because Fox doesn't care - not only is he not jealous of Arath, he regales his boyfriend with stories of his Dream Harem. Something's not right there, IMO.

Something Positive: Flashbacks are always interesting, especially the pre-Boston ones when Davan and Aubrey had this whole other group of friends. I like that Milholland doesn't drive home the fact of how doomed Scott and Rose are - we know what happens to them, but it's kind of nice to see them as they were before it all went so wrong.

The Bitch Is Back!

A bit ahead of schedule, but I give you: Sententia 2.0! New look, new content, new possibilities! Let's hope the Law of Sucky Sequels won't apply. :D

Getting down to business: I tend to find bad porn somewhat amusing, so when one of my very best friends brought Stonewall and Riot to my bachelorette party... well, it was the perfect gift, really. It's more than just porn, you see. It's gay porn. Gay superhero porn. In CGI. The damned Holy Grail for reviewers everywhere, to be certain.

Now, I could take the traditional route of "Jesus bloody Christ, human bodies can't actually do that!", but the thing that got my attention - what makes this movie worth mentioning - is the fact that it's kind of funny. Not in the usual sense where you laugh at awkward sex scenes and atrocious puns and you can't help pitying the poor schmoes who got stuck with the voice-acting; there are moments of deliberate humor in this movie that work.

It's basically a send-up of Batman circa Adam West, the gimmick being that Stonewall and his wiseass partner Riot defeat supervillains by screwing them, rather than beat them into submission. So when the town's resident mad scientist is kidnapped, they "investigate" by sleeping their way through an entire rogues' gallery. Cue twosomes, threesomes, foursomes and a very weird two-man body-job on a giant dressed like Henry VIII.

Now, I'd never accuse a porno of being subtle; the bad guys include Doctor Probe (who obviously drives a giant phallus-shaped robot) and Straight Boy, whose power involves switching sexual orientations when he's really drunk. But, from time to time, creator Joe Philips surprises me by pulling off a successful gag. For example, in one scene, Stonewall and Riot have to suit up and promptly spin in clockwise circles, only to emerge dressed as Wonder Woman and Artemis - at which point they remember they're supposed to spin counter-clockwise. Sure, it's silly, but this is hardly a film to be taken seriously... I mean, it includes a five-minute origin story presented as a musical number by a Joker analog who calls himself the French Tickler. Garth Ennis is probably sitting at a bar somewhere, wishing he'd come up with that one.

I don't think it's particularly erotic, though. Campy as hell, and rather like something Chuck Austen would've written if he had an inkling of comical talent, but I have a hard time imagining anyone would genuinely get off on it. Still, it got quite a few giggles out of me and my girlfriends, so I suppose it's not a complete waste of time. :)

The Shows Must Go On

Okay, so for a long time I just didn't watch TV, you know? Too much going on in my life, and typically only one show has ever held my interest at a time ("Lost", "Joan of Arcadia" before that, and "Buffy" before that). I've decided my palette needs a little more variety, so here's what's going on with me right now. Prepare ship for ludicrous speed (and some rambling)...

1) "Lost" is dropped as of season 2, episode 20. I adored the first season largely because of its characters, so naturally the second season focused almost entirely on the hatches and the buttons and the Others, and I just don't care. The subplots dragged on and on, and you know a show's in deep trouble when Foxy Matthew and Holla-My-Way Josh aren't enough to keep me interested. This being a JJ Abrams production, I wouldn't be shocked to learn that the writers (which include Jeph Loeb, God help us all) are making it up as they go along. Has "Alias" taught them nothing? Other than "changing your hair color will not make you any less of a loser"? Or "Close-ups of Victor Garber recall The Head That Ate Texas"? Now, I was willing to ride out the slump in the hopes that things would improve towards the end of the season. And then they killed off Ana-Lucia (Michelle Rodriguez), either because she got a DUI (according to the fans) or for shock value (according to the writers). Whether it's one or the other, it was a cheap way to dispose of a very interesting character, and practically the only woman on the show who wasn't a whimpering twit most of the time. To hell with it, then. They can stay lost for all I care.

2) "Veronica Mars": Oh my GOD, how did I miss this when it first started airing? I just finished the first season a few days ago and was utterly blown away. See, I always felt I would've enjoyed Nancy Drew if she wasn't such a bloody girl scout, and here comes Kristen Bell with a whole bunch of astonishingly good actors to pull off one of the most enthralling TV mysteries I've ever seen. It was truly phenomenal; I was watching four episodes a day towards the end of it. I'll be receiving the second season in short order, but if it's half as good as the debut, I'm in for some solid television right there.

3) Okay, I admit that "Supernatural" is more of a guilty pleasure than genuinely good. It hits my Buffy Nostalgia button (mind you, in The Canon According To Diana, that show ended with its third season), plus the main characters are hella hot and the writing only sucks a little bit (I've seen far worse, which probably says more about my tolerance levels than about the actual quality of the show). Sure, the fandom seems unusually preoccupied with The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Zip Code, but it's not a "Smallville" thing where the subtext practically overwhelms the text (yes, RedKryptonite!Clark, tell us again how you want to run away to Metropolis with Lex and how you like the way your names sound together. Zod no longer desires you to kneel, son of Jor-El - he can't be sure where you've been).

4) I've got "House", "Freaks and Geeks", "Hex" and "Prison Break" on the way - all shows with very good reputations, all very different. I'll probably post a comment or two on each as I get into it.

Dead Zone: Season 4 In Review

Or: "We're On A Road To Nowhere"

All in all, it's been a pretty disappointing season for "Dead Zone".

I've been watching the show since the pilot, so I'm not under the illusion that the previous seasons were flawless, not by any stretch. Basically, the main problem with "Dead Zone" is it has never had a proportionate ratio of important episodes vs. filler. You'd have these crucial storylines sandwiched between consecutive strings of stock plots - in which Johnny has a vision, gets involved with a bunch of people we know we'll never see again, saves them with some motivational speaking, and the day is won when Walt and the police ride in to arrest the bad guys. Wash, rinse and repeat.

As patterns go, it's not an entirely bad one - sure, most of the victims du jour have very little effect on Johnny and his life. But every now and then the writers manage to pull together a pretty compelling mystery with some genuinely sympathetic characters.

I say "every now and then" with the implication that, as far as Season 4 is concerned, it's really just "then". Because, for every episode that worked out this season, five didn't.

Let's take a look at the overall story for this season. Apparently, the remit was to drop the focus on the Stillson plotline altogether. Which, okay, I suppose is a justifable request: it had been slowly simmering, either at the forefront or in the background, for two seasons straight. And since the show has deviated so much from the plot of Stephen King's novel, it's not impossible to think that maybe, everyone wanted to try something a little different.

However, it's considered tradition - or at least good form - to close up old storylines before you start new ones. Which is probably what the season premiere (part 2 of season 3's finale) was supposed to do. A reminder: we'd left Season 3 with psychic Johnny encountering, through future psychic Christopher Wey, the post-apocalypse version of himself, who urged him not to stop Rebecca Caldwell (Johnny's girlfriend) from assassinating Greg Stillson (the politician who would, on his ascendancy to the White House, plunge the world into nuclear war). This, despite the fact that Rebecca will die in the process, and she and Johnny are lovers.

Okay. So, clearly, the best and most dramatic way to end the Stillson story would be for Johnny to accept the sacrifice necessary to save the world, and let both Stillson and Rebecca die. The future is averted, and a new one - completely unknown both to us and to Johnny - is created. Which gives the writers enormous leeway to pretty much do whatever they want.

Instead, what we get is at once tediously formulaic and shockingly silly: Johnny saves Rebecca (and, by extension, Stillson) despite the warnings of his future self. And at the end of the episode, Rebecca, Christopher Wey and Future Johnny are all written out of the show anyway. We're obviously not supposed to think Rebecca will be coming back, since a new love interest is brought in two episodes later... more on that in a bit.

So the fourth season pretty much gets tangled in its own net: on the one hand, the Stillson story still isn't finished, but on the other hand, with most of the major players summarily taken out of the picture, it can't really go anywhere either. And that's exactly what happens - for the next nine episodes (out of ten remaining), Stillson just isn't a factor. Sure, there's that episode with Danny Masterson, but let's face it, they could have done that with your stereotypical hard-ass military general and it would've turned out exactly the same.

And when it finally goes back to Stillson? The story still goes nowhere. There's a brief moment where it looks like Johnny may have finally averted Armageddon... and then, of course, it all goes back to status quo, AKA "exactly where we were at the end of last season", with Stillson gaining power while Johnny sulks. Hence, going nowhere and not particularly quickly either.

Let's talk characters. Because it's often been the case where you don't necessarily need plot movement to make a show interesting - exhibit A, "Lost". So this season might have been redeemed through character arcs... except there weren't any.

I'm not kidding. Not a single pre-established character actually developed in these eleven episodes. Nobody grows. Nobody changes. In fact, complexities the characters used to display are seriously downplayed: there's nothing between Sarah and Johnny, J.J. is practically non-existent so we don't see anything more of Johnny trying to be a father, and Walt is turned into a one-note cop who performs the same function episode after episode: he tells Johnny he can't investigate a vision without evidence, then he rides in with the cavalry. Bruce is Bruce, but there was never much else to him anyway. And Purdy... well, I haven't quite figured out why he's still on this show, since he's probably the character that does the least out of the entire cast. He preaches. And preaches. And preaches some more. Oh, and his golddigging skills would send Anna Nicole Smith into epileptic shock. In related news, Dana Bright is still MIA. Nobody seems to care.

And new characters? Well, there are a bunch, but only two seem to be given any real importance. The first is Malcolm Janus, introduced in the season premiere. Basically, it's an X-Files pastiche where the shadowy man with the mysterious-yet-foreboding signet ring lurks around making cryptic threats and knowing things he can't possibly know. Naturally, he's part of a group of people we don't know and don't see. Plus, he's a Bible-thumper who spouts scripture like he's proselytizing to the audience. They overshot "enigmatic" by about half a mile and ended up with "annoying". In fact, the fourth season ends with a message from Janus to Johnny where Janus asks him to make a choice. About...? He forgot to mention that part.

The other character is Alex Sinclair, a female psychic introduced in the third episode as a new potential love interest for Johnny. It's interesting that, while Johnny has met other psychics in previous seasons, they were never really fleshed out as characters: Bonnie from Season 3 came closest, but even then there was never any real interplay between the characters. Alex, on the other hand, seems to be a perfect match for the show: she's got her own "secret origin" story which left her with empathic powers, which she can use to see the future (though in a more intuitive, less visual way than Johnny). But what really shines with this character is her motivation: ever since childhood she's had visions of her own death, and she's determined to do as much good as she can before that happens. There's a wonderful twist to her vision (remember, Johnny can't see everything either), but the point is that she has something Johnny never had: a reason. Johnny's a very passive character: trouble finds him and he works it out largely because he's got nothing better to do. Alex is altruistic, and that makes her instantly likeable.

So, of course, it makes perfect sense that at episode's end, with all this chemistry built up between her and Johnny, she gets in a car and drives away, never to resurface. Well, duh. God forbid they shake up the cast list a bit.

Again, it's not like previous seasons featured consistent development, but at least there was some forward motion. Bruce lost the dreadlocks. JJ found out Johnny was his biological father. Johnny gave up Sarah at last and actually gained a friendship with Walt. Purdy got stuck in Stillson's web and got busted for it. Season 4, by contrast, is an exercise in futility, a placeholder that doesn't even put up the pretense of doing something important. There are moments where you think to yourself: "This will matter. This is HUGE!" For example, in the penultimate episode, "Babble On", Johnny not only discovers that he was having visions as a child (something we already knew courtesy of flashbacks), but he learns that his father could see the future too. That's a major revelation. It should make Johnny question everything he knows about his powers. Instead, it's dropped and never mentioned again. By the time the next episode starts, it's like nothing happened.

That kind of self-nullification, combined with a general sense that the writers were just spinning their wheels waiting for Godot, made the fourth season of "Dead Zone" the dullest one yet. Here's hoping the fifth picks up a bit.

Crazy-Ass Weekend

First off, let me apologize for not updating lately; it's just been an absolutely hectic couple of days. But I've got a lot to talk about today, so let's get right into it.

Comics Review #2 for October 8 consists of Spider-Girl #91. That's two weeks in a row where, of all my monthly reads, only one was actually giving something approaching a done-in-one story. But that's where the industry trend is at the moment, so there's not much that can be done about it. Truth is, I'm very ambivalent when it comes to the "6-part story vs. done-in-one" argument... on the one hand, you could make the claim that the reason most books are losing sales is because, in effect, readers are only getting two storylines per year. As sprawling or decompressed or eventful as they are, they're still only two stories. Alternatively, the main reason why "done-in-one" stories fell out of favor is because there's only so much you can do in 22 pages; more often than not you end up being forced to tell, rather than show, events that deserve more space.

Which leads us to Spider-Girl. I have to confess that my enthusiasm for this series has dwindled in recent years; I was, at one time, a very vocal advocate for its continuation when it was faced with cancellation. It's never been a high seller, but it held consistently in the 20K range and seems to do well in digest format. But the problems started when Marvel just refused to give the book any kind of stability, threatening a forced conclusion every six issues.

Of course, it's damn-near impossible for any creative team to work well under the assumption that every story you make just might be your last. Writer Tom DeFalco would end up going for bigger, more grandiose plots each time but always found himself reverting to status quo, just in case another stay of execution would arrive. As a result, the last two years of "Spider-Girl" have been dominated by stories that go for big bangs, but end up being utterly inconsequential. Oh, the creative team certainly goes through the motions - such as Spider-Girl's switch to a black costume to commemorate the series' 75th issue - but that plotline ended up fizzling out, with no real effect on the character. Spider-Girl herself has settled into something of a rut, and that makes it very hard to care about the Mystery of the Day because you know that whatever the story is, it's not going to matter.

Of course, it's possible that I'm approaching this from the wrong angle. After all, "Spider-Girl" is a series very much in touch with its Silver Age roots: it's retro, applying conventions that were standard fare before I was born, and before modern sensibilities overtook classical narrative styles. In that context, I suppose Spider-Girl is no different from any other superhero, in that the stories she participates in don't necessarily have to have any consistent or consecutive effect on her.

Taking that into account somewhat mitigates my feelings towards "The Shocking Secret of the Spider Shoppe", in which May "Mayday" Parker, Spider-Girl, enters the treacherous world of... high fashion. No, that's not a typo. Apparently, Daniel Kingsley, brother of Hobgoblin Roderick Kingsley, has started a line of clothing based on Spider-Girl's costume. This happens to threaten a local "Spider Shoppe" that also offers spider-based outfits for every shape and size (except May's). At the same time, a new vigilante, "La Fantome", has arisen and is threatening to destroy Kingsley, while Shoppe clerk Sandi organizes a rally to support the little business being faced with the huge conglomerate. Spider-Girl must determine La Fantome's identity, and find out why she's not getting a cent of royalties from the Shoppe... and then, of course, there's the question of just who owns that shop.

As mysteries go, it's a pretty clumsy one - you've only got one possible suspect for the Fantome, and it turns out to be true. And there's no real investigation into the identity of the Shoppe's owner: May hazards a guess on the last page, and gets it right. The Fantome is a really annoying character who keeps repeating how she and Spider-Girl are on the same side and should team up, and May refuses because innocent people could be hurt; it's the same reasoning she's used against any potential allies who turned out to be loose cannons. Even if you agree with her, it's so repetitive after four or five times that you wish May would consent, if only to do something unexpected.

And that, I think, is the biggest problem currently facing Spider-Girl: granted that it's old-school, and represents a haven from the incessant rapes and murders currently rampaging across the mainstream, but somewhere along the way it also divested itself of drama in the process. This hasn't always been the case; rather, it's like all the major storylines - the romantic tension between May and Normie, the deterioration of May's social life and her relationships with her ex-boyfriends, her struggle to get out of her father's shadow, her expulsion from the New Warriors group she founded and more - gradually trickled to a halt without actually being resolved, with no substitute in sight.

But... "Spider-Girl" is precisely the kind of "feel-good" series that makes it hard to genuinely dislike it, warts and all. If you take a charitable perspective, you could say that any book that reaches 91 issues, with the same writer, is bound to hit a slump or two sooner or later. And with #100 coming out next year, it's still possible that the current problems will be rectified.

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Next up, a brief comment on the movie "Timeline". It would have been a review except I didn't make it through the whole thing.

You know, there are certain things you can do to make sure your audience is entertained by your movie. Ideally, you round up some really talented actors to hold our attention. Failing that, you can make sure your scriptwriter has put together a workable, exciting plot. If that doesn't work out, you can always take the character-centric route and at least give us a cast with stories we want to hear. And if all else fails, just get a bunch of attractive men and women to take their clothes off. It may not be intellectual, but at least it gets smiles.

"Timeline" miraculously misses the mark pretty much everywhere. The actors are subpar, woodenly reciting terrible dialogue. To make things worse, they're constantly talking over each other, so the movie is dominated by this mass of indecipherable babble. The characters are cardboard cutouts who fail to pique interest. And to drive the final nail in, they've got Paul Walker in a leading role and he spends the first half-hour of the movie fully dressed.

Well, that's just adding insult to injury. After twenty-five minutes of tedium, I stopped watching. On the one hand, I suppose it's possible that the movie picked up after I tuned out; on the other, I'm reasonably patient when it comes to movies which take time to develop, and if I couldn't be bothered to sit through "Timeline" anyway... well, that says something too, doesn't it?

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I've been watching episodes of "Xena: Warrior Princess" lately. I missed the show the first few times it aired, but a local channel has been running it daily for the past few months and I found myself tuning in every now and then. We've just completed the third season.

Generally speaking, it's pretty entertaining stuff. The show seems to fall into a very interesting dichotomy: episodes seem to randomly fall into either comical farce or serious drama/action. While most of the episodes I've seen tend to belong to the latter category, if the comedies are all as amusing as "Been There Done That", a third-season "time loop" episode, the balance certainly works out.

The cast is pretty diverse; Lucy Lawless is exquisite as the experienced, sometimes world-weary warrior woman redeeming her dark past. And unlike other would-be feminist icons like Buffy Summers or Ally McBeal, Xena manages to get by just fine without making men the center of her existence. Of course, that might be where the alleged lesbian subtext comes in, but - and keep in mind I haven't been watching consistently so I might be totally off about this - I don't really see any homoeroticism between Xena and Gabrielle. At least not deliberately, not consciously on the part of the writer. In fact, the only character who really gave off a quasi-lesbian vibe was Callisto, but I'll get to her in a minute. :)

Gabrielle strikes me as a slightly less interesting character, particularly because - unlike her partner - things have a way of happening to and around her without any real action on her part. In the first season, she becomes an Amazon princess just for being at the right place at the right time; in the second season she gets married, but only because the guy seeks her out and proposes. And in the third season she apparently has an evil demon baby. She is, in a way, the perpetual victim, and the type who preaches against killing but has no problem if Xena dirties her hands instead. But it's clear why she's needed: her naivete and innocence are a direct counterbalance to Xena, who at times seems like she's seen too much. Of course, in another contrast to Xena, Gabrielle is actually the character who grows through the seasons while Xena is immutable. And, based on summaries of the series finale I've read, it seems that, in the end, Gabrielle becomes Xena, or something very similar to Xena. Interesting way to conclude her character arc.

Joxer is the comedy relief, but it really is best if you take him in very small, very infrequent doses. I had the misfortune of watching three episodes in a row heavily featuring him, and it wore thin, fast. The gimmick here is that he's a wannabe; the thing he desperately wants is to be a warrior like Xena, but he's so pathetic he ends up playing the court jester instead. Rather stereotypically, he also has a heart of gold, which is supposed to make us not want to rip his throat out after hours and hours of his antics. Ted Raimi plays the part a little too well, IMO: he's ultra-annoying when he's supposed to be, and somewhat sympathetic when he needs to be, but really, not a guy you want to see much of, at any frequency.

As for the villains... well, there are two primary antagonists that pop into mind when I think of the show, although the "archvillain per season" pattern wasn't really applied here. Ironically, both villains are fixated on Xena; an attempt was made to give Gabrielle a nemesis in Velasca, a rogue Amazon, but she never reappeared after her introductory episode.

The first villain is Ares, God of War. We gradually learn that he was Xena's mentor when she was a conquering maniac; naturally, he doesn't approve of her departure from that path and is constantly trying to pull her back into darkness. Kevin Smith (no, not THAT one) starts off nicely, very slick and seductive with an undercurrent of malice... but as time went on he seemed to lose a lot of his potency. Whether it's because he was entangled in a subplot with Xena that couldn't be resolved - ie: she'll never return his affection, but if he loses interest there's nothing to stop him from killing her - or because he was used so often that the threat diminished is hard to say.

But regardless, the other primary villain outshines him on every level: Callisto, played masterfully by Hudson Leick. The basic idea is one that's so simple, and yet undeniably clever: when Callisto was a young girl, she witnessed the murder of her parents and the utter demolition of her village at the hands of Xena. Fast-forward about ten years later, and Callisto is a grown woman, utterly and incurably insane, molded by her rage into a warrior of almost equal ferocity and strength. In the process, she becomes even worse than Xena: she assembles an army that kills men, women and children, not for the sake of conquest, but just because she can. The irony, of course, is that she's so busy focusing her fixation on Xena that she doesn't even notice what she's doing. Leick and Lawless click on every conceivable level, playing characters who are mirror images of each other. And, of course, there's the lesbian subtext I mentioned earlier: hints that Callisto's madness reaches the point where her fixation on Xena is a thing of unquenchable hate and unbearable love. All kinds of creepy, there. :)

Callisto's character arc is also one with distinct forward movement: she goes from warlord to murdered specter to immortal to goddess. There's a wonderfully poignant moment in the third season where Callisto finally gains her revenge on Xena, killing her enemy's only son... only to discover that it doesn't diminish her own pain at all. Instead, the completion of her quest leaves her adrift, without direction. Unfortunately, her character weaved in and out of XWP's companion show, "Hercules: The Legendary Journey", so her progress isn't always consistent from episode to episode. But still, she makes a very memorable archrival.

All in all, "Xena: Warrior Princess" seems to be a fun show. Not one that demands you take it seriously, at face value, at all times, but a nice way to kill forty minutes every now and then.