Thank you, Internets. (Listen to the original.)
]]>Garden of Words is a triumph of visual style over substance. It can be very predictable, can be very cheesy when two people are hugging and crying at the end. But the movie creates honest and fresh emotions, accompanied by an impressive visual expression.
Yeah, that sounds about right for a Makoto Shinkai film. And I still can’t wait to watch it.
]]>It’s pretty easy to break Project Blue Earth SOS down into its individual similarities and influences, were one so inclined. On paper, the series blends together themes, ideas, and visuals from Plan 9 From Outer Space, Independence Day, Star Wars, War of the Worlds (moreso the 1953 Byron Haskin film then other versions), The Hardy Boys, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, and even other anime titles like Neon Genesis Evangelion and Giant Robo. But the series is easily far more than the sum of its parts, a rollicking retro-futuristic tale of alien invaders, boy geniuses, and cool gizmos that revels in its vintage style and flair.
It’s the year 2000, and most of human technology relies on “G-Reaction” engines, which are used in trains, airliners, and even submarines. However, when “G-Reaction” vehicles begin to mysteriously disappear all over the planet, everyone is stumped. Everyone, it seems, except two boy geniuses named Billy Kimura and Penny Carter. Initially at odds — Kimura is the wealthy heir to a massive corporate empire, Carter an orphan who has put himself through school — the two reluctantly join forces after encountering a mysterious apparition who cryptically announces an impending apocalypse.
The apocalypse is soon revealed to be a massive invasion by an alien race called the Baguan whose technology far exceeds that of humanity (natch). Humanity has one final refuge: Metropolitan X, a massive underwater city/military base designed by the Labyrinth Alliance, a secretive organization of scientists that has been preparing its own advanced technology in case of just such an event. But will it be enough to rescue humanity from certain doom? Why, exactly, are the Baguan attacking Earth? And just how does a couple of teens out-think Earth’s best minds so easily?
Project Blue Earth SOS is a lot of fun, so long as you’re willing to just go along for the ride and buy into its style and tone. I was particularly hooked by the series’ retro-futuristic style. Imagine the optimistic vision of the future that you see illustrated on Popular Mechanics covers from the 1940s and 1950s, and you’ll get the basic idea. Jet packs, ray guns, hovercars (with big pink tailfins, natch), zeppelin-like spacecraft, a jet fighter that looks like a souped up F-104… the series has all of these wonderful gizmos, and more. Throw in the aforementioned boy geniuses capable of out-thinking and out-inventing the world’s greatest scientists on a regular basis, shadowy scientific cabals, and femme fatales, and Project Blue Earth SOS really hits a sweet spot for me — even when the plot drags or the character arcs fall flat.
However, while it’s a lot of fun to watch, Project Blue Earth SOS is a bit more than some mere juvenile wish fulfillment about saving the world with really neat gadgets. For one thing, the series has a surprising amount of pathos and grim-ness. Certainly, the apocalyptic setting helps, as do the various cliffhangers that our heroes find themselves in. Director Tensai Okamura (Darker Than Black, Wolf’s Rain) and writer Ryota Yamaguchi (Cowboy Bebop, Escaflowne: The Movie) love ratcheting up the odds and putting their characters through the wringer, especially Penny Carter, who is forced to deal with his tragic past in some disturbing ways. (To the series’ credit, it delves into disturbing territory without ever feeling exploitative, or detracting too much from its infectious spirit. In fact, it’s actually a bit easier to buy into its overall optimistic tone because of the gloom.)
And while the series’ characters are constantly singing the praises of science as the only way to defeat the Baguan and ensure humanity’s survival — it’s not uncommon for a character to shout something like “Believe in it, the power of human science!” as a quasi-warcry — the series could also be seen as a cautionary tale of sorts about the dangers of succumbing to scientific arrogance and playing God. This can be seen in those moments when Kimura or Carter’s latest gizmo or “foolproof” plan blows up in their face, but it becomes especially apparent in the series’ final episode, when the truth about the Baguans and their invasion is revealed. Admittedly, the series doesn’t spend too much time on that particular theme — understandable, since doing so would distract from the whiz-bang gadgets and derring-do — but it adds some welcome depth and thoughtfulness to the highly stylized proceedings.
Project Blue Earth SOS is not without its flaws. I found myself rolling my eyes at the umpteenth time Kimura and Carter were able come up with just the right plan or device at just the right time to rescue humanity from the brink of extinction. Nearly all of the characters could’ve been fleshed out more, and one character probably could’ve been removed altogether (her primary contribution to humanity’s effort seems to be fainting at the slightest hint of danger). And for all of their advanced technological knowhow, the alien invaders’ nefarious plans do occasionally hinge on silliness.
Those are small criticisms, however, compared to the simple, escapist, and fantastical fun that Project Blue Earth SOS proffers. Early on, the series’ announcer proclaims Project Blue Earth SOS to be an “extra-special grandiose sci-fi adventure”. As the series unfolds, and our heroes save damsels in distress from brainwashed alien thugs, or steal a flying saucer from the invaders’ secret island fortress, or combat their weather control with a rocket-powered drill vehicle that would make International Rescue green with envy, you realize that’s as accurate a description as any.
]]>Ghost in the Shell has to be one of the most fruitful anime series out there. I’ve yet to see any version or adaptation of Ghost in the Shell that wasn’t both well-made and fascinating, plot-wise. And Arise, a prequel that explains how Motoko Kusanagi becomes a member of Public Security Section 9, looks to be no different.
Funimation will be releasing Arise in four 50-minute episodes here in the States, with a planned theatrical release for the first two episodes.
Note: The video comes with English subtitles, just make sure to click the “Captions” button to activate them. Via io9.
]]>When I first saw the trailer for Phineas and Ferb: Mission Marvel — an upcoming crossover between Phineas and Ferb and the Marvel Comics universe — you might think my response would’ve been something appropriately nerdy that dismissed the title as an obvious and blatant cash-grab. Or that I exclaimed something like “Really, Disney and Marvel?! This is going to be your first animated crossover following Disney’s 2009 acquisition of Marvel?” Or that I snarked about the plausibility of the title’s premise. (Did Doofenshmirtz really just de-power Thor and Iron Man using the same energy beam? What is he, the Beyonder or something?!)
You might think all of those… and you’d be right. I did, indeed, have reactions like them. However, above them all, was this single thought: “My boys are going to think this is awesome!”
This might mean I lose some nerd cred and/or that I’ve been suckered by Disney’s marketing machine. However, I think the thought of my boys realizing that some of their favorite characters are going to be appearing together on the same show, and looking forward to the excitement that’ll give them, might mean I’m maturing as a geek dad. I’m just a little less interested in some notion of continuity purity (especially since continuity has never been one of Marvel’s strong suits), and more interested in my kids having a blast with some of their favorite characters. In other words, I’m more concerned with my kids having some fun than trying to “enforce” some “proper” nerd standards.
I look at this way: If it had been announced, when I was a kid, that there was going to be a G.I. Joe/SilverHawks cross-over, the thought of such awesome-ness would’ve dominated every waking thought. The purists and “true” nerds might’ve scoffed at such a notion, but I would’ve been too busy imagining a smackdown between Snake Eyes and Mo-Lec-U-Lar to care. (On a sidenote: I know ThunderCats recently got some remake love, but I’ve always thought SilverHawks was the cooler show — it was set in space, after all — and would like to see a modern remake attempt.)
Yes, this upcoming Disney/Marvel crossover is going to be silly — this is Phineas and Ferb we’re talking about here — but it’s the kind of silly I think I can get behind. (Phineas and Ferb has built up quite a lot of good karma since we’ve started watching it, it’s that enjoyable.) If nothing else, I can’t wait to see the looks on my boys’ faces when they realize that Agent P is going to be saving Iron Man.
]]>The first time I listened to Lustmord, I made sure it was in the middle of the day and that all of the lights in the room were turned on. That might seem melodramatic, but if you’ve ever listened to Brian Williams’ form of ambient music, then you know my precautions were understandable. Williams’ ominous, harrowing atmospherics and subterranean textures can bring forth a miasma of gloom and terror during even the brightest of days; I shudder to think of what prolonged exposure to his music during the pitch black of night might do.
That first Lustmord release I listened to was 1992’s The Monstrous Soul, which made heavy use of a dialog sample from the horror movie Night of the Demon. Jump ahead to 2013, and Williams is now preparing to release The Word As Power (Blackest Ever Black), which finds Williams making heavy use of actual vocals for the first time. However, as you can hear from the album teaser below, the vocals don't necessarily add a comforting human element.
The various vocalists — which include Jarboe, Soriah, and Tool’s Maynard James Keenan — sing wordlessly, their chants adding a primal element to Williams’ inimitably dark and — frankly — scary soundscapes. Interestingly, The Word As Power sounds like it might be some of the most “accessible” music in Williams’ discography. At times, the music has an almost Dead Can Dance-like feel… if Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerrard wrote their music in abandoned factories and deep, forgotten caverns rather than converted churches, that is.
More samples from the album can be heard on Lustmord’s blog.
]]>Joss Whedon’s adaptation of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing has been garnering rave reviews since its release last year. And now Lincoln will get a chance to see what all of the hubbub is about: The Ross will be screening the film on July 19-25.
Watch the trailer below.
]]>]]>[W]ith major user interface changes such as Aqua or iOS 7, Apple has another tendency: they overshoot the mark. Their incremental approach then becomes one where unnecessary items are removed (such as Aqua’s stripes) or improved (excessive shadows and transparency are toned down.)
There’s a good reason for this: it’s much easier to take away elements from a design than it is to add them. Simplicity is achieved by removing that which is not really needed.
The mission and message of their churches was vague
These students heard plenty of messages encouraging “social justice,” community involvement, and “being good,” but they seldom saw the relationship between that message, Jesus Christ, and the Bible. Listen to Stephanie, a student at Northwestern: “The connection between Jesus and a person’s life was not clear.” This is an incisive critique. She seems to have intuitively understood that the church does not exist simply to address social ills, but to proclaim the teachings of its founder, Jesus Christ, and their relevance to the world. Since Stephanie did not see that connection, she saw little incentive to stay. We would hear this again.
[…]
They expressed their respect for those ministers who took the Bible seriously
Following our 2010 debate in Billings, Montana, I asked Christopher Hitchens why he didn’t try to savage me on stage the way he had so many others. His reply was immediate and emphatic: “Because you believe it.” Without fail, our former church-attending students expressed similar feelings for those Christians who unashamedly embraced biblical teaching. Michael, a political science major at Dartmouth, told us that he is drawn to Christians like that, adding: “I really can’t consider a Christian a good, moral person if he isn’t trying to convert me.” As surprising as it may seem, this sentiment is not as unusual as you might think. It finds resonance in the well-publicized comments of Penn Jillette, the atheist illusionist and comedian: “I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe that there’s a heaven and hell and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life or whatever, and you think that it’s not really worth telling them this because it would make it socially awkward.... How much do you have to hate somebody to believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?” Comments like these should cause every Christian to examine his conscience to see if he truly believes that Jesus is, as he claimed, “the way, the truth, and the life.”
Rod Dreher has some thoughts and reactions:
]]>I do feel comfortable asserting that a church, and church people, who don’t take religion seriously aren’t going to appeal to those who don’t face social pressure to conform. We live in a truly secular age, in which religion is not taken for granted, but is a choice — and in which there is little or no pressure to go to church at all. More than ever, the Church has to give people a reason to believe. I’m not talking about an argument to believe (though that’s part of it), but a sense that the faith is true and compelling. You can’t get there through argument alone, at least not with most people. They need to see more. They need to see the faith incarnate in a meaningful way.
A silly concept that’s executed well. All of the segments have their individual charm, though I particularly enjoyed the 1980 and 1990 segments. And as Kottke puts it, “This is what singles should be from now on…you get the original song, a 30s jazz version of the song, a 1800s classical version, an 80s new wave version, and so on.”
]]>Commentators often attempt to refute the nothing-to-hide argument by pointing to things people want to hide. But the problem with the nothing-to-hide argument is the underlying assumption that privacy is about hiding bad things. By accepting this assumption, we concede far too much ground and invite an unproductive discussion about information that people would very likely want to hide. As the computer-security specialist Schneier aptly notes, the nothing-to-hide argument stems from a faulty “premise that privacy is about hiding a wrong.” Surveillance, for example, can inhibit such lawful activities as free speech, free association, and other First Amendment rights essential for democracy.
The deeper problem with the nothing-to-hide argument is that it myopically views privacy as a form of secrecy. In contrast, understanding privacy as a plurality of related issues demonstrates that the disclosure of bad things is just one among many difficulties caused by government security measures. To return to my discussion of literary metaphors, the problems are not just Orwellian but Kafkaesque. Government information-gathering programs are problematic even if no information that people want to hide is uncovered. In The Trial, the problem is not inhibited behavior but rather a suffocating powerlessness and vulnerability created by the court system’s use of personal data and its denial to the protagonist of any knowledge of or participation in the process. The harms are bureaucratic ones — indifference, error, abuse, frustration, and lack of transparency and accountability.
[…]
“My life’s an open book,” people might say. “I’ve got nothing to hide.” But now the government has large dossiers of everyone’s activities, interests, reading habits, finances, and health. What if the government leaks the information to the public? What if the government mistakenly determines that based on your pattern of activities, you’re likely to engage in a criminal act? What if it denies you the right to fly? What if the government thinks your financial transactions look odd — even if you’ve done nothing wrong — and freezes your accounts? What if the government doesn’t protect your information with adequate security, and an identity thief obtains it and uses it to defraud you? Even if you have nothing to hide, the government can cause you a lot of harm.
“But the government doesn’t want to hurt me,” some might argue. In many cases, that’s true, but the government can also harm people inadvertently, due to errors or carelessness.
An absolute must-read, especially in light of the recent NSA spying scandal.
]]>…within those action sequences can be found moments of stunning intimacy, an effect that connects on a surprisingly deep emotional level. Director Zack Snyder retains an instinct for sledgehammer entertainment, but his stylistic flourishes have been curtailed to a degree heretofore unknown. His trademark extended slow-motion flights of fancy, evident even in the animated Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, are absent here; his work is in service of the material, rather than drawing attention away from it, though there is certainly sufficient evidence that his personality has rubbed off to a certain extent on the material.
As I’ve written in my reviews of 300 and Watchmen, I’ve always considered Snyder to a technically gifted filmmaker with a real grasp of effects-heavy filmmaking, but the awesome-ness of the effects always ended up overpowering the story. Sounds like he got the balance right with Man of Steel.
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