Black Mirror

I will apologies for this post in advance. I actually wrote it quite some time ago and it has been sitting in my drafts folder for many months. At the time of writing, I had just witnessed Black Mirror for the first time, so I was a little overexcited by what I had just seen. Usually, when I write about something that I have just seen and loved, I tend to over hype it to the point where expectations are almost certainly let down. So just be warned, as good as this show is, I probably make it out to be some kind of deity. 

You have been warned...

For those of you who don't know (and why would you?) I absolutely love Charlie Brooker. I don't find the male gender of our species sexually attractive (or any other species that isn't human for that matter, so don't go spreading libelous rumors about me now), but I would happily marry this ingenious man. I don't even know what makes me more envious; the fact that he's married to the ridiculously delicious Konnie Hue, or that she's married to him.

I fell upon Brooker's work rather by accident. A couple of years back, I use to spend much of my time on David Firth's fat-pie website. One day, I came across a short cartoon that Firth did for some miserable looking TV personality (sorry Charlie, but it's true) who had his own show on BBC Four. With little else to do, I decided to give his program - Screen Wipe - a quick spin. The rest was history.

For many years since that day, I've become an ardent reader of Mr Brooker's hysterical Guardian columns. Each week, I make sure to read his latest entries; soaking up his cynical, misanthropic words like a drugged up sponge with a sever case of the munchies.

Quite frankly, Brooker's columns are my equivalent to what the Bible is to Christians. He has reshaped my entire view of reality, which is quite ridiculous, considering that he probably makes up most of his negative opinions purely for humorous purposes.

Brooker's work in screenwriting has been a member of my awareness for some time now. I had watched Nathan Barely (a sitcom from his earlier days) and thought that it was great. Yet regardless of my admiration for this show, I never really gave his screenwriting work any further thought.

I've always been a bit odd when it comes to watching new television programs. Due to my lack of familiarity toward a new story and characters, I usually put off watching them and instead stick to what I know (not very assuring, coming from someone who claims that Film and Television is their most passionate subject).

This habit also applies to Brooker's screenwriting works. I have never watched Dead Set before; and up until several months back, I had never watched Black Mirror.

How the hell did I go so long without watching this? It's perfect. A hybrid of a 21st Century Twilight Zone and a Nineteen-Eighty-Four for the twitter generation (a comment which isn't suppose to be as demeaning as it may sound).

What makes the show so insanely watchable is not just the sharp, satirical plots which dominate the show, but is also endlessly engaging due to how sincerely the characters within these stories react to the absurd situations which they find themselves in.

The layout of Black Mirror is also perfect in its design. Each week, the show is set in a different reality from the previous episode - always a semi-alternative present day - with completely different characters (hence the Twilight Zone similarities). Even though the theme, situation and protagonist differ entirely from one another, every episode contains a uniformed feel which weaves noticeably throughout; connecting each story together and haunting its viewers from start to end.

So far, there are only a total of six episodes in existence. Hopefully there will be more (please Brooker, make this so). Seeing as the episode count is currently so low, I have decided to compose a brief piece on each one individually.

SERIES ONE

EPISODE ONE: THE NATIONAL ANTHEM

The episode opens as the Prime Minister of Great Britain is awoken to discover that the Nation's Princess has been kidnapped. A hostage video - uploaded to You Tube of all places - reveals to the world that unless the leader of the United Kingdom goes onto live television and has full on sexual intercourse with a pig, her kidnapper shall execute her.

An absurd premise, however the sincerity played out by the episode's characters and the build up to the 'climax' will engage you in a story which you never imagine you could endure (unless you like banging the cast of Animal Farm that is).

This is a truly bonkers and excellent opening episode that explores some very interesting themes surrounding the power of public opinion and the world-wide-web.


EPISODE TWO: 15 MILLION MERITS

By far my favorite episode of Black Mirror thus far. This one haunted me for days after first viewing it. It manages to be both heart warming and heart shattering all at the same time.

I seriously don't want to give too much away about this episode. It really is a story which needs to be appreciated with fresh, unexpectant eyes. All I will say is that it's set in an Orwellian-type reality where everyone's lives are dictated and defined by Apple-like touchscreen devices which exist in literally every corner of society. It's a wonderfully tragic tale of love and humanity.


EPISODE THREE: THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF YOU

An episode which focuses around both a technology which is frighteningly plausible and a relationship which is quickly crumbling to pieces.

The Gimmick of this episode is that society are now able to record every waking moment of their lives with a grain device which is implanted within the back of every human mind. The humans of this society are able to store their recorded memories into a You Tube/Facebook type timeline and willingly play them back in either their own mind's eye or on an external device (usually a television screen).

Contains heavy themes of voyerism and how modern social media technology can allow others to peek into our lives to uncover our darkest secrets. So not so far off our own reality really.

SERIES TWO

EPISODE ONE: BE RIGHT BACK

Interesting enough episode, but maybe my least favorite of the show so far. Yet considering the high caliber of this show, this is by far an attack on its quality.

It's mainly about how far the technology of today may potentially go and how it can assist those who are grieving the tragic loss of a loved one.

I don't want to give too much away, because I feel that this episode is at its most interesting when you immerse yourself without being too aware of where it is actually going. So I advise you to check it out and see whether you can guess what direction the story is taking you in.


EPISODE TWO: WHITE BEAR

Now I'm definitely not giving anything away with this one. Seriously, if you are considering watching this, then go in with a totally clean slate. All I will say is that the episode begins by putting you in a "what the fuck is going on" situation, only to then twist and turn the plot in a thousand and one different ways. When the episode finally starts to explain what might be going on, another twist jumps out and spins the narrative in a completely new and alien direction. It will keep you guessing from start to finish.

EPISODE THREE: THE WALDO MOMENT

There seems to be quite a negative consensus toward this episode; particularly on websites such as The Internet Movie Database. A lot of people feel that the story is lazily written and overall pretty pointless.

I can't see where these opinions are coming from if I'm honest. I think the Waldo moment is the finest episode of series two.

The premise is a classic high-concept story. A good old "what if?" tale. In this case, the question is what if a hugely popular entertainment character became politically active? Just imagine if someone like Sacha Baron Cohan (especially as Ali G) not only enjoyed taking the piss out of notorious politicians, but also tried to bring them and their governments down with the power of their popularity?

That is essentially the plot of the Waldo Moment; a much loved cartoon character who becomes tangled far too deep within the world in which he's employed to ridicule.

The final scenes during the end credits are depressingly dark and dystopian in their execution. I absolutely loved it.


So if you haven't watched this before, then get your bloody act together and go watch it! You'll love it, I'm sure. If you don't then I pity you.

Fantasy Vs Realism

I belong to a school of thought which believes the fantasy aesthetic is often superior to that of realism when it comes to large cinematic features.

Although my position as a writer makes the quality of a film's story the most important characteristic of a feature, visuals have also gone a long way toward building up the foundations of the stories which I have ended up falling in love with.

The argument against non-realistic modes of cinema are interesting. Lovers of pragmatic cinema believe that much of mainstream film and television can provide us with a false outlook on the world which we live in, and in several ways they are correct. A lot of mainstream cinema does have a tendency to romanticize, warp and invent brand new visual constructions of people, places and nations.

This warping of real cultures and individuals can, at times, be immensely harmful to society. This mainly occurs in the form of stereotyping. Stereotyping is something which I loath with a passion. It takes a race, religion, personality, sexual orientation and/or gender identity and compresses them into an oversimplified caricature. Stereotypes not only try to lump a type of individual into an all too simplistic group, but they can also be extremely offensive.

So the romanticizing of reality can create stereotypes as a byproduct. But then what is to say that a film with a pragmatic aesthetic cannot also create such problems within their narratives? A Mike Leigh film or Ricky Gervais sitcom may come across as a reflection of the reality of the time period in which they were made in, however they are still pure works of fiction; perfectly capable of generating false and offensive portrayals toward others.

Another attack on fictitious aesthetics is that such features make the world appear far more idealistic and less problematic than it really is.

Well of course fantasy based cinema has a habit of constructing more pleasing worlds than the one that we are stuck in. But cinema is, after all, an artistic medium. Why would it be a crime for a film to detach themselves from reality, when books, paintings and all other art forms have been doing this since the dawn of our species?

Next up is the notion that heightened realities can jade our view on factual evidence. One example might be a visually extraordinary historical epic which chooses to loosely follow factual historical events in order to focus instead on fast paced action sequences and superficial special effects.

But then why is this only seen as a problem within the medium of cinema? Surely other art forms are also guilty of scrapping/distorting facts from time to time. I mean not every book with a historical setting is a work of non-fiction which follows all timelines in the most fastidious manner imaginable (and for that matter, who is to know whether the non-fiction works truly depict reality anyway? For all we know, the author may have their own political agenda or belief system which they want to impose upon their readers. Who's to know whether they've carefully handpicked references to provide the reader with their own vision of what real life events were actually like?).

Realism can also be an incredible aesthetic when it comes to the cinematic art form. It can help us to understand current social problems by showing them in their rawest forms; it can trick us into believing that what we are actually witnessing is real (which can amplify one's immersion into the feature) and it can ignite some incredibly shocking emotions through gritty and cold replications of our own world.

Furthermore, fantasy based cinema can also reveal and exploit real world issues in a powerful manner. The marvelous 2009 film District 9 is one example. The Neill Blomkamp directed science fiction piece portrays a parallel world which reflects issues of discrimination and prejudice from an entirely extraterrestrial perspective. Even Marvels 1999 X-men feature film metaphorically exposes the evils and violence that many minorities face in the real world. Even films as fantastical as James Cameron's Avatar applies the power of metaphors to raise issues which focus around imperialism and colonization. These films are fables that use real life issues from both the past and present to explore themes and issues that engulf the lifeforms of this complex and troubled planet.

So this post is not an attack on realism and realistic cinema. It is a fantastic aesthetic approach to story telling. I just happen to prefer films which branch away from our own reality.

I mainly watch films as a form of escapism from this reality. Life is tough and often filled with disappointment. To be able to step through a door into another reality for a couple of hours is a wonderful opportunity. Fantastical stories can grant access to such a door, and that I am truly grateful for. I like to consume stories that contain larger-than-life characters, alien (though not necessarily extraterrestrial) landscapes and moments of previously-unimagined wonder.

Real life can be difficult, cruel and brutal. Cinema is a way to momentarily step from the realms of this world and peer into the window of a universe which is detached from our own

Realism is not a bad cinematic format; however to say that stories which parallel our own reality are superior to stories which differ is an incredibly unfair claim.

But then all cinema is subjective. I'm sure there are many who will think otherwise.

  

Toy Story 3

Looking at the juxtaposition between childhood and adulthood can be a rather tough experience. All the wonder and innocence of early childhood is removed when one finally grows up and leaves the mother nest. It is hard to pin point exactly when this transition occurs, as we never really notice when it begins or ends, but it does happen and usually without any form of closure.

But for me - and many others who I know from my generation - Toy Story 3 offered us this very form of closure.

I was about five-years-old when the first Toy Story was released in cinemas. At such an age, the world was still a wondrous place of beauty and harmony. My life was not yet bogged down with commitments, expectations, lack of self fulfillment ect. Everything was still exciting and colorful. I lived for the moment and even the simplest of activities were a joy for the mind. Activities as straight forward as going to the cinema to see a film with my mother and father.

Me and my immediate family all went to our local multiplex to watch Toy Story upon release. This was an age for me when such days out were as exciting as one's birthday or going away on holiday.

Me, my brother, my mother and my father adored the film to pieces. It was an utter treasure of a  feature. Over the years, its quality never withered with age. No matter how often we watched it on our VHS copy, we still found it to be as funny, engaging and heart breaking as it was on that very first day at the cinema.

It was a film packed with wonder and sheer imagination. A film where life and heart were crammed into the most domestic of home environments (such as a child's bedroom). A film that demonstrated the importance of companionship and love.

Not long after we saw the film, me and my younger brother collected all the toys of various characters. With our actively infant imaginations, we convinced ourselves that they required our love and affection in the name of their happiness. We liked to dream that they too were alive, just like in the movie, and that to stop loving them would cause great pain to their souls.

So we divided the toys between us. We had to make sure that all of them received equal amounts of attention and admiration. It was a task which we both achieved fruitfully.

In a bizarre and ironic way, we learned the power of caring, sharing and love through the merchandises of a multimillion dollar franchise. Oh the mysteries of the universe.

Then, at the age of nine, Toy Story 2 arrived in cinemas. Me and the family took yet another trip down to our local multiplex, hoping to be awarded with wonder and excitement once again. By this stage, venturing the the cinema was not as exciting as it was when I was five, and it was also a trip which we as a family didn't do as often as we once did. However the offer of another Toy Story lured us back like a family of moths to an alluring flame.

The beauty of the first film was still there, but this time there were themes of loss, change and abandonment weaved through the narrative. This made the tale even more heartbreaking than the preceding film; reminding me and my brother to hold on to the love of our precious toys.

It was a story which taught us that childhood and love are such fragile treasures in this world and that we must cling on to such beauties for dear life.

After that message was delivered to us, Toy Story vanished from cinema's world stage. Before we even realized, an entire decade has raced on by. Not only did the messages of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 become lost to the cold winds of time, but me and my brother both grew up.

In those ten years, Toy Story did make several appearances in my life, but never in the same way that it did as a child. It turned out, that the film had a masterful story structure.  The Eight Sequence Structure to be precise. This meant that when I took up screenwriting for both my undergrad and postgrad degrees, the film was dismantled before my very eyes. Every beat, scene, strand of dialogue and character was studied and dissected meticulously under a metaphorical microscope. The story of my childhood became a technical blueprint for my weekly seminars.

Naturally, I was more than happy to abandon the childhood frame of mind; now that I was an adult working toward a degree in screenwriting. I didn't care about pulling this story apart. I was all grown up now. If this film had the perfect eight sequence story structure to obtain knowledge from, then it was my obligation as a screenwriting student to extract such techniques for my own creative needs.

But in 2010, for one night only, I was allowed to do something rather magnificent. The release of Toy Story 3 was a once in a lifetime invitation for me and many others. It offered us both the chance to temporarily revisit our childhood whilst simultaneously offering a form of closure to it.

For the first time in eleven years, all those characters from my happier days were back on cinema's world stage. Their personalities as colorful as ever, their humor as sharp as it always was, and their universe as wondrous as it was the first and second time round. Toy Story was back and as great as it had ever been.

The film was a majestic doorway; offering us one more peak into an enchanting realm that no one had seen since 1999. After all the monstrous chaos that had taken place in our world since then - September 11th, The Iraq War, Guantanamo Bay, the 7/7 London Bombings - those brilliant, clever, daft and hilarious toys bounced back into our rainy lives to remind us of happier times.

But something had happened. Not with the story - that was as excellent as ever - but something was definitely different from last time round. Some of the characters - such as Bo Peep - had vanished, Andy's toys were all locked away in darkness, and the humans (including Buster the dog) had all aged considerably.

How could this be? Reality had leaked into this fantastic realm also? Like childhood, this fable had been poisoned by the progression of time. How could the authors of such fictional beauty do this to us? The happy endings from part one and two were no more. We were now in a new territory altogether. This was the world of Toy Story after those happily ever after moments. How could they show us such a world?

But not so fast, because before you know it, our heroes are at it once again. They don't care that their universe has also aged with time, because they are going to pull us right back into their mischievous ways to deliver us loyal viewers another grand adventure. For the third and last time Woody, Buzz and the rest of the gang are going to give us a story which we haven't experienced for a hell of a long time. It is long overdue, but it doesn't matter anymore, because it's finally here.

Yet the story may be back, but this is still undeniably the end of an era. Time has brutally invaded this narrative. Andy is going to college and our precious toy's lives will never be the same again.

This is it.

Which is where the film delivers its ultimate and beautifully humane gift.

Closure.

Through the eyes of Andy, we are given a final chance to say goodbye for the last time. Before he finally passes on his beloved toys to their new owner, he plays with them before setting off on his own adventure into the adult corridors of college.

Here is the swan song for a story that began almost twenty years previous. It is a farewell to the children who loved it before finally growing up and it is a farewell to the parents who once loved it alongside them.

It is also a promise to the children of today. A promise that these toys shall live on and that more adventures may very well happen for this new audiences' own eyes in the near future.

In the summer of 2010, Toy Story 3 allowed us to return to our childhood years for two hours only. When time was finally up, it didn't just dump us on the side of the road in a flood of self-pitying tears, it allowed us all to express one last godspeed.

It would have been perfect if I'd have managed to drag my mother, brother and father - who loath the cinema these days - to see this film with me; however the final viewing experience was as close to perfection as any cinematic experience will ever be for me.

Thank you Toy Story.  I loved you as a child, and for this final farewell gift, I shall love you for the rest of my days.


Goodbye x

Doctor Who New Series 1.3 - 'The Unquiet Dead'

Before I begin this post, I would just like to provide a link to another blog which covers this episode, written by Lawrence Miles. When The Unquiet Dead was released, Miles read the text of this episode in a way which suggested that it was a huge advocate of racist bigotry. I am not going to discuss this interpretation of the text in this post, because quite frankly, I feel that Miles read too far into the metaphorical intentions of this episode. Also, I never made the comparisons myself, so there would be no point in talking about a view point which I never clocked on to. Nevertheless, Miles is a fantastic and insightful writer who has written probably the most detailed account of Doctor Who's history ever. Both he and his co-writer, Tat Wood, have written and released a series of books called About Time. All of these volumes comprehensively examine every single episode of Doctor Who from 1963 onwards. So here is a link to Miles' views on The Unquiet Dead. I also recommend checking out his published writings too.

Anyhow, enough with that. Time for my word on the episode.

Plot - The Doctor takes Rose on her first trip into the past. They arrive in Cardiff in the year 1869, where famous author Charles Dickens teams up to help investigate the strange sightings of gas-like creatures who live in the plumbing works of a funeral parlor.

This is the third episode into the New Who series and is also the third episode in what I like to call the introduction trilogy. Episode one (Rose) showed us how a present day Doctor Who story can transform the ordinary into the monstrous, whilst episode two (The End of the World) gave us a colorful adventure which simultaneously laid down some of the foundations for this series' story arc and character development.

The Unquiet Dead whisks the Doctor and Rose to Cardiff in the year 1869. This is the first episode of the new series set in the past and will make use of some characteristics which will become traditional features of such stories.

Firstly, the Doctor will team up with a famous face; Charles Dickens. This is something which happens on regular occasions in new Doctor Who and serves such plots in more than one way.

The use of a historical character can be a used as a great source of comedy. Meeting a famous face slots the Doctor and his companion cheekily onto the front pages of history. To place the protagonists right next to the major figureheads of the history books can lead to all sorts of  comical skullduggery. The Doctor could screw up the timelines, become jolly old chums with hugely controversial individuals and even inadvertently become solely responsible for huge historical breakthroughs.

The humor element in The Unquiet Dead is not so heavily applied in this episode. In fact, the only real humor is found in the scene where we discover that the Doctor is a huge fan of Dickens. The term fan - which the Doctor uses when expressing his admiration for him - confuses Dickens, as he has only ever understood this word in the context of a cooling device. But even then, this joke doesn't really have anything to do with the historical presence of Dickens. Instead, humor is derived from the misunderstanding of two characters from differing time periods. Dickens fails to understand what context the Doctor is using the word fan in, presumably because such a word is not yet associated with the admiration of celebrated individuals.

The use of historical figures can also help to support a theme for an episode. Simply put, the writer can take an element or theme which a particular historical figure is notorious for and then use it for the premise of that episode. In The Unquiet Dead, the villain is a ghost-like creature - known as the Gelth - which exists within the plumbing of an undertakers house which is supposedly haunted. A classic Dickensian theme in and of itself.

The second traditional feature which springs up in The Unquiet Dead is the exploitation of historically cultural/social myths. Similar to (yet not always the same as) the monster emulating a celebrated figure's imagination and themes, an episode set in the past will often take a well known, fear, fable or story from that era and apply a science fiction twist to it.

At the beginning of this story, the premise is that a house in 1869 Cardiff is haunted by ghosts who live within the gasworks and possess the bodies of recently deceased humans. Before the episode reaches its climax, however, it is established that they are not spirits, but alien life forms who're using a rip in time and space to venture from one part of the universe to another.

In addition to this, the rip in time and space in this episode is also known as the rift. This very same rift will be referenced more than once in this series and will ultimately go on to become a major plot point within Doctor Who's spin off show, Torchwood. I do plan on reviewing Torchwood, so I guess it would be an idea to make reference to the rift whenever it pops up.

Essentially, all episodes set in the past are strictly science fiction/fantasy stories, set within a historical context.

There was a time, as far back as 1963, where Doctor Who did try to do straight historical epics. Because you see, Doctor Who's original aim was to be an educational television show as well as an entertainment series. It's mission statement was adopted from the BBC's initial aim (coined by the first director general; Lord John Reith) "to entertain and educate".

As the show evolved and began to figure out exactly what it was, however, the creative force decided to scrap the historical epic format altogether and stuck instead to sci-fi/fantasy oriented monster stories.

Furthermore The Unquiet Dead is the first episode of New Who that is written by someone other than the program's head writer. Whilst Rose and The End of the World were Russel T Davies scripts, this story was penned by The League of  Gentlemen co-star Mark Gatis.

Gatis is a long time Doctor Who fan who'd already written material for the show during the wilderness years of the 1990s. Yet despite his passion and knowledge of the program's history, he was not exempt from an error which has occurred amongst the writers of Doctor Who since it began back in 1963.

I am referring, of course, to continuity contradiction.

Now I'm not going to discuss continuity errors in detail here - seeing as countless words have already been dedicated to this very subject - but I'd still like to point out a few rules that Gatis establishes in this script which are inevitably dropped several episodes later.

One rule is the requirement that companions must comply with when visiting historical time periods. Before Rose is allowed to step from the doors of the Tardis, she must change into clothing that reflects that specific era; as her 21st century outfit will supposedly cause - in the Doctor's words - a riot. The wardrobe authenticity requirement is ditched by all other writers in the new series and it is only used one more time by Gatis himself (in series two's The Idiot's Lantern) before he abandons it completely.

Another rule is the laws of rewriting time. When the Doctor offers to help the Gelth transition through the rift - where they can co-exist with humans in the dead bodies of our recently deceased loved ones - Rose reacts, arguing that earth did not co-exist with such creatures during her time period. The Doctor responds by stating that history can be re-written in a flash.

By the eight episode of this series, this rule is completely ignored, as it turns out that altering the past will pretty much result in the entire destruction of time and space itself.

But the time can be/can't be rewritten rule is forever changing throughout Doctor Who's exceedingly long narrative. At one moment the rules state that a paradox will result in the collapse of everything, whilst at the next moment, the whole paradox warning simply becomes nothing more than a rule which can naughtily be broken by the Doctor and his chums.

In recent years, they have tried to formulate a compromise for this time can/can't be rewritten rule; declaring that some points in history can be rewritten, whilst events which are labelled as fixed must never be interfered with. This compromise is a fair attempt to deal with the continuity contradiction, however it is not a perfect solution. However I shall talk about this further when I finally arrive at the Steven Moffat era (Series 5 onward).

But as I have already mentioned, contradictions in Doctor Who are prevalent throughout the entire show's canon. It is a part of the show which you eventually become accustomed to; plus there are so many continuity errors that it will cause nothing but frustration if you spend too much time thinking about them.

When I first saw The Unquiet Dead, I didn't much care for it. At this point, I still had a trivial amount of interest in this series and my passion toward the show was still several episodes away from its inevitable ignition.

Watching this episode again, however, has made me realize just how good it is; mainly because of Simon Callow's wonderful performance as Charles Dickens.

In the episode, Dickens is a man who is lonely, aging and convinced that the creativity within his imagination has grown stale. When the Doctor and the Gelth enter his life, Dickens' world view is confronted head on. This historical figure's imagination as a writer is no comparison to the cynicism which also lingers within his mind. Suddenly the universe has become too big for his liking and he ultimately expresses just as much fear and confusion as any other human would during such a surreal situation.

Callow apparently refused to play the role of Dickens throughout his entire career, stating that he would only take on the role when he read a script which he felt was interest enough to partake in. What charmed him over to take up the role in this episode, was the fact that it explored the flaws of this hugely celebrated icon. In this script, Dickens' character is portrayed through his humanity. He is a human being, with flaws, fears and doubts. This, in Callow's eyes, showed the man more than the icon.

The progression of Dickens transcending from fear to enlightenment-of-the-known is a beautiful narrative progression and despite the story ending one week before the date of Dickens' real life death, the episode still manages to maintain its feel good persona right up to the end credits.

Episode three also mentions the time war for the third time since the series began. By now it is becoming quite clear that this highly referenced off-screen war is building toward some sort of grand revelation, but now is not the time to discuss that. It will be episode six which finally blows the lid on that particular can of worms.

The Unquiet Dead also contains the words "Bad Wolf" in one of its scenes. Now this is a word which will inevitably build toward the series' major story arc. "Bad Wolf" was also a phrase which was also uttered in The End of the World. These two words will be used frequently over the duration of the next ten episodes of the first series. I will discuss the "Bad Wolf" reference in the next episode that I explore; as it is during this story that the words are dragged (somewhat distractingly) to the forefront of the narrative, making viewers highly aware of the existence of this phrase.

All in all, The Unquiet Dead is a wonderfully plotted character piece set in a historical time period. Despite many claiming that the history based stories are the dullest of Doctor Who stories, this one gives such a claim a run for its money. The episode shows viewers that such stories can be far from boring, so long as they are executed in the correct manner.

Avengers Assemble

This review is over a year late now, but then this entire blog is completely out of sync with the time period in which it is written in. Nothing is suppose to be bang up to scratch with all the newest releases (hence why I'm still in the process of critiquing the 2005 series of Doctor Who). So seeing as it is my aim to review works which are not brand spanking new, who really gives a damn that this film came out in spring 2012?

Anyhow, on with the post.

Although I don't care for comic books in and of themselves, I have been rather charmed over by some of the movie adaptations which have been popping up during recent decades. Films such as the politically metaphorical X-men, the emotionally enchanting Spider-man 2 and the gritty re-imagining of Batman Begins has opened up this genre of storytelling to me; revealing what wonders such narratives can deliver to the world.

The recent explosion in quantity, however, has also created an entire library of poor quality superhero flicks. Features such as Fantastic Four, Daredevil and Ghost Rider all turned out to be diabolical clangers of the worst kind (in my opinion).

So I chose to keep my cynical hat on during the release of a new superhero, and Avengers Assemble (as it is titled over here in the UK to avoid confusion with the 1960's television series which was completely unrelated to the marvel universe) was no acceptation to such skepticism.

Most people I knew were wildly impressed by the promotional material which was released prior to the film itself. I, however, decided to curb my enthusiasm.

As mentioned previously, the past decade has seen a colossal boom in Superhero movies. They've taken over the box office in their numbers; showing little signs of slowing down any time soon. Such success can only guarantee that this vast number of titles will continue to increase into the near future, and with that, the possibility of ideas running dry is not one that we cannot rule out.

Although Avengers Assemble was based upon a preexisting piece of source material, I couldn't help but get the feeling that the whole film was nothing more than an idea fabricated by producers in order to try and keep a strained production line of capital generating movies alive.

It almost felt like a failing boy band; desperately releasing a greatest hits compilation to try and keep the cash flowing into their bank accounts. Avengers Assemble was a top trump comic book compilation (minus Spidey, due to studio copyright purposes). This was marvel's greatest hits package.

On top of these concerns, the whole feature appeared too over the top for my liking. Flying aliens the size of skyscrapers; dashing chase sequences amongst the Manhattan skyline; special effects upon special effects; and a whole entourage of iconic superheros all fighting side by side. It felt like James Cameron having a nervous breakdown and spending all of his earnings on a single project.

But gosh was I wrong. So hilariously, stupidly, pathetically, hopelessly wrong.  Because this film was far from disappointing. It was an absolute feast of a flick as a matter of fact. It was exactly how a Hollywood blockbuster should look.

Avengers Assemble works on so many levels and really did deserve the staggering success which it was flourished with upon its release.

The film was written and directed by the king-of-nerds himself, Joss Whedon. Whedon is possibly most known for creating the iconic TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, however he is also known for creating a number of cult classics which were never given a chance by broadcasters.

Firefly is one example of such a show. The series sports a huge cult following and seemed to receive all round positive feedback from its audience. Firefly is a gritty, cowboys-in-space type science fiction series that had its plug pulled before the first season even had time to air all of its episodes. Before the show even had the opportunity to spread its wings and grow to its full potential, it was put to sleep by the networks that funded it.

Firefly's passionate fan base did manage to get Whedon to make a movie spinoff of the series in the name of Serenity, however a second season never managed to see the light of day.

This was not the only project by Whedon to get pulled before it was given a chance to take flight, and such a fact created a specific image of this writer/director in the eyes of many.

He was a writer for the fans of science fiction, the underdog of Hollywood and the man with the ideas which failed to impress the capital driven networks. People saw that he had talent as a storyteller, and this made such cancellations an act of foolish injustice in the minds' of many.

The narrative to Whedon's career makes the grand success of Avengers Assemble all the more satisfactory. I say this because the film went on to make a staggering $1.5 billion at the worldwide box office.

Here was an intelligent and talented writer, who after years of fan admiration was jettisoned into the public mainstream conscious in one of the most spectacular ways imaginable.

Whedon's intellect and skills stand out for all to see in Avengers Assemble, particularly in terms of the masterful spacing out of the film's plot.

Despite my initial concern toward the film becoming a greatest hits compilation, the movie had a lot to cover from the very get go. Here was a multimillion dollar blockbuster which was essentially a spin-off/sequel hybrid to four separate superhero movies. Not only did it have to stay true to four detached narratives (five, if you also include Iron Man 2), but it had to make perfect sense to those who had never seen any of the preceding stories. The story had to both impress the literate fans of the film's mother stories and cater for a new audience all together.

Such a multi-serving story would be an incredibly difficult task for any writer/director to pull off. Four films had already covered the origins of the characters' of Avengers Assemble, the universe for this story had already been established from multiple angles and the narrative was also quite far into its time stream.

Yet Whedon succeeds at this herculean task. His supreme skills at executing stories and characters means that he can inject all the knowledge that the viewer needs on an almost subliminal level. He makes the whole process of paving out the foundations of a narrative seem all too easy.

Without even being aware, viewers are informed on who is who and what does what from the very early stages of a story. This frees up the rest of the run time to focus on the entertainment factor.

And the film itself is rather gigantic in its scale. The special effects are brassy and boisterous, the universe of the story is as big as can be and the number of protagonists are high in their numbers. Most films with this much action taking place in them would sooner or later collapse upon themselves. Films of such scale often loose their way amongst all the chaos. But once again, Whedon's fine writing abilities makes the whole film function smoothly. From start to finish, he makes his way through the narrative without taking his eye off of the ball (in this case, the ball being the story).

The film is funny too. At the time of watching, a lot of the jokes seemed to slip right past me. Seemingly random events would take place, sparking the audience into a frenzy of laughter. Don't get me wrong, I did notice what was going on in these scenes, and I knew that they were meant to be funny. The only difference, however, was that they were making me go "what the fuck?" as opposed to "that was hilarious." But after I let the experience of the whole movie settle down in my head, I looked back on these scenes and began to realize just how comical they were.

The soldier resuming his space invader game after Nick Fury exits the room; Tony Stark jabbing Bruce Banner out of curiosity toward the Bruce/Hulk transformation and Hulk throttling the villain Loki around the room like a rag doll were scenes of absolute hilarity.

I honestly do not know why the comical excellence of these moments refused to chime with my sense of humor upon first viewing. I like to think that my brain was unable to process just how funny this material was, but that is probably a load of bullshit, as I was actually terribly hungover when I first saw this film which would have made me slow to react to these moments.

Another marvelous addition to this blockbuster beast would have to be the performances of some of the leading actors. Everyone seems to be having such a fun time taking part in this. Robert Downy Jr. seems to be having the most fun of them all; now appearing to be 100% relaxed in his role as the multimillionaire crime fighter Tony Stark.

The line up of recent marvel films have been quite theatrical in their structures, so to see everyone enjoying themselves so much in their roles helps to amplify the comical fashion of this superhero infested universe.

But no film is perfect and even Avengers Assemble has its faulty sides; even in the areas which I have praised above.

Firstly, there is an issue with the character of Black Widow, as played by Scarlett Johansson. Her presence in this film just feels completely pointless and wasted. Now I haven't read the original source material that the film is based on, yet I'm assuming that she is a part of the initial Avenger crew, however she just feels so out of place here.

It's not that she isn't given little material to perform with, it's just that she almost feels as though she's been forced into the plot. Her presence is like that of a shard of glass that has been wedged into someone's foot. No matter how hard it tries to stay inside the foot, the body will ultimately do all that it can to eject it. Despite the film having a writer as talented as Whedon on board, the narrative seems to be rejecting every attempt to keep Black Widow in the same story as all of the other characters.

A lot of the time I also can't help but feel that producers forced this character into the plot to be "something for the lads". The film does have that bad habit of emphasizing this character's sex appeal quite often, which can suggest that she is there to be perceived as eye candy for a part of the film's demographic.

When I asked people about what they thought of Johansson's part in this film, most people responded by telling me how fit they thought she was. When I told them that I thought the film would have survived without her character being a part of the script, they began to accuse me of being a closet homosexual (these people really weren't the brightest bulbs in the chandelier. And they were only 19, so I guess they still have time to mature).

But maybe I am being a little unfair on this character. After all, Black Widow didn't have her own film to help build up her protagonist potentiality, whereas Iron Man, Hulk, Thor and Captain America all did. This promoted them to an iconic status, meaning that it was all two easy for them to overshadow Johansson's part.

Jeremy Renner's Hawkeye character also suffered from the exact same problem. Again, I'm pretty sure that this was all down to the fact that Hawkeye has not had his own film prior to this release; hindering him from possessing the same iconic power of the other protagonists.

Then there is Hulk. Now I think Mark Ruffalo delivers a fine performance as Bruce Banner/Hulk, and is even better at the role than Edward Norton was (I love Norton, but his performance in The Incredible Hulk suggested that he really had zero interest in the role). I also think that Whedon did a great job at writing him into the narrative.

I think that the main issue here is one which seems to be inherent in the character itself, as he just seems to be very difficult to adapt to the silver screen.

Ang Lee's 2003 Hulk failed quite miserably upon its release. It appeared that Lee wanted to try and create an art house version of this character, which resulted in a rather bizarre film all together. I haven't seen this movie since I was thirteen, but when I look back on it, I can quite clearly remember it being a very unusual piece of work. I think I might have to go back and give it a second viewing, but as my opinion currently stands, this experimental take on the Incredible Hulk really wasn't to my liking.

Then, in 2008 a revised reboot was released. The Incredible Hulk was an improvement over the 2003 version, but it still wasn't good enough to warrant a sequel. The final result was quite a bland piece of work.

I can't quite put by finger on why Hulk struggles to work within the film format. I have an inkling that maybe it is a mixture of both the character's invincibility and his transformation process.

Firstly, the fact that Banner is invincible as Hulk removes all of the tension whenever he has turned into the big green fella. It doesn't matter how many missiles are fired at him, we know he is going to be ok, making it a movie with no risk to the character which were are suppose to care about. This was the same problem with the film Wolverine. The original 1999 X-men movie managed to make this character work by focusing on the character's personality, back story and relationship with the other mutants, however by the time that X-men The Last Stand made its way into existence, I began to grow bored of the him, as I knew that there was no mortal risk which he would meet within the story.

Secondly, I think the transformation process restricts a lot of Banner's character development. Banner becomes Hulk whenever he gets angry, which means as soon as someone pisses him off, he becomes a big green beast which smashes the shit out of everything. Although this may sound good on paper, it means that we cannot see how the character of Banner would react in different situations. The key of good stroytelling is to show how our protagonists react and make decisions in specific situations. We want to see how the protagonists react when they become upset, scared, angry or confused. With Banner, we just cannot get this sort of character development.

Avengers Assemble attempts to solve this problem by changing the nature of his transformation process, but the only problem is that they come up with a solution which doesn't seem to make any sense.

It turns out, that the trick to controlling the unwanted presence of Hulk is that Banner is "always angry". Maybe I'm missing something here, but I just don't get how this works. Do they mean that he's a character who is constantly pissed off 24/7, giving him the ability to transform at will? If so, how do they explain the scene in the film where he inadvertently turns into Hulk and starts attacking his allies? Also, for a character who is supposedly always angry, he shows no signs of this. He always seems calm and in control, which means that we as an audience are never aware of what is really going through Banner's head?

However, Hulk is dealt with better here than in the previous two films, and they actually do manage to make him much more entertaining. As I mentioned earlier, Ruffalo delivers a great performance and is very likable. Also, some of the scenes they give Hulk are hugely entertaining (particularly the scene I mentioned earlier where he throws Loki around the room).

Hulk is still a problematic character, but I think that they are slowly beginning to figure out ways of making him work on the big screen.

My final quarrel with Avengers Assemble is that some of the action sequences are played out a little too long. Despite Whedon possessing the ability to space out plots in a rather entertaining and excellent manner, he can sometimes play them out a little too long. The most memorable example of this is when the airbase - which our heroes use as their headquarters - comes under attack, Whedon decides to shoot an incredibly long action sequence which mostly consists of Iron Man repairing a damage to the ship for what feels like ten whole minutes. Luckily for the audience, Whedon makes his action sequences both coherent and highly entertaining; making this an issue which doesn't affect the scene as much as it could have done.

The problems which I discussed above may sound as though I am contradicting all of my good points on Whedon and his ability to execute great storytelling, however I honestly do not feel that this is the case. These problems are only a few faults in what is otherwise a fantastic piece of work. There maybe one or two characters and scenes which fall flat in my opinion, however the rest of the film holds up incredibly well, making me forgive these supposed cock-ups. He did a grand job, and as mentioned previously, no film is perfect.

Overall, Avengers Assemble is a brilliant piece of entertainment. It works on so many levels and really does show that there is still a lot to get out of the superhero genre. I hope that Whedon uses his new blockbuster status to bring us more mainstream films of this caliber in the near future, as he seems to be able to do a better job at delivering huge entertainment flicks than many others.

How 'South Park' and 'It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia' Works

As is probably apparent from some of my earlier posts, I often become somewhat offended by the representation of minorities within film and television texts. I've been known to grow concerned at filmmakers, such as Michael Bay, who casually insert offensive stereotypes into their bodies of work.

I mention this, mainly because this post may come across as somewhat hypocritical, as the shows I want to discuss in this post are the situation comedies It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and South Park.

For anyone who's familiar with both of these sitcoms, you'll be aware that they are filled with countless politically incorrect jokes and make frequent use of some of the most racist, homophobic, sexist, religious, transphobic, and all kinds of other offensive slurs that the human mind has been able to generate.

However there is a huge difference in the use of such crude content in these shows, as opposed to the works of individuals such as Michael Bay.

Before talking about It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I want to first look at South Park; a sitcom which is hugely notorious for getting away with some outrageously politically incorrect modes of humor.

Many individuals have kicked up a fuss about the material which South Park contains, a criticism which has existed since the program's inception back in 1998. It is probably the only situation comedy in existence which has made it its soul aim to insult and ridicule every single group of people in existence.

No one is excused from South Park's roastings. Republican or Democrat; they happily rip the shit out of both. Man or woman; same again. Gay or straight; doesn't matter. South Park will belittle and metaphorically piss over every minority and majority that has ever walked on this rock. Nobody is safe from the scripts of Matt Stone and Trey Parker.

So let me admit right now that I love South Park. The new seasons have dipped in quality somewhat, but I still enjoy them, and some of the funniest moments of my life have occurred whilst watching this show. It's absolutely brilliant.

So how can someone who gets angry over the comic relief and sexually suggestive camera angles of Michael Bay go on to say this about a show which dicks over absolutely everybody?

Well, for that exact reason. South Park insults everyone. Nobody is treated any differently. Whilst other edgy shows such as Family Guy insults Republicans whilst leaving Democrats alone, South Park depicts both parties as being just as pathetic as the other.

In a bizarre and ironic way, everyone is made equal in South Park. Trey and Parker do not discriminate. We are all just as daft and hilarious as each other.

Also, such extreme assaults on every type of person also serves to reveal to viewers just how obscene our derogatory stereotyping is. When an ethnic or sexual minority is played up to the max in an episode of South Park, we don't automatically begin to believe that such people behave like that in real life. The very fact that these jokes are not subtle in anyway exposes stereotyping for the ridiculous nonsense that it really is.

Whilst many filmmakers stealthily incorporate their stereotyping into comic relief or eye candy characters, programs like South Park pretty much scream STEREOTYPE! at the top of their lungs; making everyone completely aware that the representation on screen is a load of absurd bullshit that has been fabricated by the idiots of our planet's nations.

Also, to be offended by something in South Park often exposes hypocrisy. People who get upset at programs that rip the shit out of everything are seldom offended by the whole text. Instead they are upset by one segment which affects them directly. They will happily laugh at all the other insults and jibes, but as soon as their group is attacked, they throw a tantrum; revealing that they are happy so long as they are not in the firing line.

Take Issac Hayes for example. Issac was the voice of Chef in South Park up until the year 2005. When Matt Stone and Trey Parker decided to write an episode which belittled and ridiculed the church of Scientology, Hayes threw a wobbly and resigned. He claimed that he didn't want to be part of a show which insulted and laughed at people for their spiritual beliefs.

Hayes was a part of South Park for eight whole years before he came to that conclusion. He was happy to partake in all the other offensive material, but as soon as it came to his religion, he was having none of it. So it was fine for him to be apart of something which poked fun at all other groups of people, but as soon as his religion got the piss taken out of it, his entire opinion toward the show he happily worked on took a drastic u-turn .

So that's why I like South Park. No ones safe. It's offensive, it's horribly rude, and it can be down right nasty at times. But all groups are insulted and played up to the max in a perfectly equal manner; blasting the absurd nature of prejudice wide open for all to see.

A similar rule is used in the sitcom which I mentioned at the top of this post, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.  This situation comedy centers around the characters Mac, Charlie, Diandra, Dennis and (from series two onward) Frank.

Not only is this show incredibly offensive on all imaginable levels, but the main characters are some of the most horrible individuals who have ever been assigned the role of sitcom protagonists. They are possibly the most narrow minded, heartless, self-centered characters that I've ever come across in a television show.   There's nothing redeemable or likeable about these people. They are there to be hated and laughed at.

And that is how this show works. When one of the characters ends up saying something absurdly racist, we are in no way on their side. They are hopelessly stupid and selfish. We are laughing at them and their pathetic nature. There is simply no other way to read this text. These characters are complete and utter pigs and anyone who spends more than five minutes watching this show becomes completely aware of this.

Take the story arc of Mac and Carmen as an example. Carmen is a transgender woman who Mac ends up falling in love with. Mac is hopelessly in awe over Carmen throughout numerous seasons, but the fact that she was born a man distresses him deeply. Not only does Mac express much discomfort of Carmen's biological history, but the other characters also get grossed out when they find out that Mac sleeps with her from time to time.

When Carmen moves on to settle down and marry another person - after loosing patience with Mac and his sexually insecure approach to their relationship - Mac grows incredibly jealous and tries to get them separated by law; claiming that it is classed as gay marriage.

On top of all this, Mac and the other protagonists of the show have a rather explicit obsession with the fact that Carmen still has male genitalia. Numerous jokes of a highly crude nature are frequently made in regards to this fact.

It all sounds horribly offensive, but never once are we in agreement with these characters. This show is not having a hate-fueled dig at transgender people. Mac is clearly hopelessly in love with Carmen, but both he and his friends are such ignorant idiots that they cannot help but act like a bunch of brain dead tossers whenever she becomes the center of the narrative.

The audience are never once invited to laugh at this transgender character who has accidentally stumbled into Mac's tiny minded world, they are laughing at the five morons who appear on the show each week.

Going back to South Park for a moment, the same rule can apply for the character of Eric Cartman. Cartman is a racist pig of a human. He is one of the most bigoted fictional characters to appear regularly on a well known television program. Not only that, but he is also one of the most popular fictional characters of the 21st century. This isn't because a majority of today's population are bigot sympathizers, it's because people love to despise him. Like the cast of Sunny, Cartman is revolting. Everyone watching knows he is horrible, and that's why we like to watch him.

I've always likened these sitcoms to that of Jeremy Kyle and Jerry Springer. As I've mentioned before, the human race loves to turn their noses up at those who they think are below them. We love to watch shows such as Springer and Kyle because there are people on that program who we are convinced are beneath us.

This same sensation could quite easily be extract from fiction too. We love to look at monstrous bigots like Mac, Dennis, Diandra, Charlie, Frank and Eric Cartman because we like to convince ourselves that we are not like them.

We turn our nose up at their offensive attitudes, knowing that we would never think or behave in the way that they do. When they sprout racist bile from their tongs, we laugh in disbelief at their grotesque behavior. We also feel a sense of smug satisfaction at the thought that we will never be like them (except for the people who are actually like them, but they are usually too stupid to know they're bigots anyway).

The advantage of Sunny and South Park over shows like Kyle and Springer is that the characters we look down on are not real. We often forget that when we are sneering at the guests of Jerry Springer and Jeremy Kyle, we are actually insulting real human beings (well I heard a lot of Springer was fabricated, so maybe that one doesn't count).

Sitcoms such as South Park and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia consist entirely of fictionalized characters. This allows us to exercise and express our judgmental attitudes on imagined personalities.

These shows are not written by people who are narrow minded bigots. They are made by individuals who are highly aware of the absurd nature of prejudice attitudes. They use the sitcom platform to exploit and remind us of just how pathetic and absurd prejudice behavior is; simultaneously reminding us of the idiocy that the people who frequently like to exercise such attitudes possess.

South Park and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia are not endorsing intolerance, they are sticking their middle finger up at it, reminding the world of how fucking stupid the whole thing is.

Doctor Who New Series 1.2 - 'The End of the World'

Plot: The Doctor takes Rose on her first trip to the year 5.5/apple/26; five billion years into her future. There they land on a space station named platform one, where the rich and the powerful have gathered to watch the day that the sun finally destroys planet Earth.


Now that the revived show's pilot is done and dusted, Russell T Davies is ready to show New Who's audience what the program can do in terms of its visuals (this episode supposedly sports the highest production budget in the show's history). Or more importantly, this is the episode which is ready to reveal to its audience, what New Who is capable of doing in the 21st century.

The opening moments of this episode - where the Doctor shows off what his Tardis is capable of - is a rather enthralling moment for this revival. As our mad hero toggles with switches, jabs at buttons, and yanks numerous levers; he enthusiastically informs Rose of where his mysterious vessel is taking the two of them. He hurtles forward in time to the twenty second century, followed moments later by the year 12,005 (the age of the New Roman Empire).

Neither of these periods are depicted on screen, however there's no need for them to be. Their existence in this story are only there to serve as nuggets of dialogue to flare up the imagination and give the viewers an idea of just how diverse this series can be when it comes to episode locations. Plus the special effects budget is momentarily being held back; saving itself for the following time period that the two of them will momentarily arrive at.

Episode two is set on a space station which orbits the Earth during the year 5 billion AD. Our planet is no longer inhabited by life forms and the sun is hastily brewing into an apocalyptic supernova.

Whilst the pilot episode was an introduction to the Doctor, his Tardis and his new companion, episode two is a secondary introduction to the series. In fact, I like to view episodes one to three of series one as the introduction trilogy; as each episode exhibits three distinct and important characteristics to the show.

Whilst episode one focused on how stories set in the present day can use elements of the ordinary to create monstrous villains with murderous motives (a theme that is embedded throughout the entire history of this show), episode two exhibits what a story set in the far future is capable of achieving.

It is a story filled to the brim with vibrant spectacle. The sets are slick and flashy; the alien characters are larger than life in their appearance (and plentiful in their numbers) and the special effects are vivid in colour and grandiose in their audacity.

Aesthetically, this episode is bold and beautiful in its appearance; more so than ever before. This is what distinguishes New Who from the old. No longer is this a show with a limited budget, actors wrapped in tinfoil suits and wobbly sets. It is now a blockbuster television series which throws everything that it can possibly get its hands on at its audience; over nourishing them with liberal servings of SFX eye candy.

This jazzy TV blockbuster vision of the show fits rather comfortably into the contemporary historical time frame of this new era. The classic series often told its stories over a 25 minute serial format; spanning between four to ten episodes per story. Classic Who was more like a weekly science fiction/fantasy serial that relied on cliffhangers to build dramatic tension and grip its demographic. Yet in the 21st century, viewers are more accustomed to fast paced, self contained stories.

This is not an insult on modern audiences (I am, after all, a member of such a demographic). It is just that viewing habits have changed dramatically since Doctor Who was last on the air; and this mini-movie approach to the show's episodes was a wonderful move for the show's revitalization.

Many people will disagree with me of course. That is the one major dilemma with Doctor Who fans. There are so many opinions on what the show should be and how the show should look. This is one of the main reasons why it took it so long to make its way back on to the airwaves. The show has gone through countless visions and production teams over the past half century that there have been many different formats to the show (the 45 minute run time actually appeared briefly in the mid 80s; during the Collin Baker era. However back then the show was loosing steam and then producer, John-Nathan-Turner, feared that this jump in episode length was the reason and quickly flicked it back to its 25 minute serial time slot. This failed to revive the mainstream viewings and a few years later, the show was axed).

The fact that Doctor Who has been changing and evolving throughout its entire lifespan means that there are now fans from all kinds of different eras; generating a dozen different schools of thought on which era suited the show most fittingly.

What's more interesting about Doctor Who during this 21st century period, is just how much it differs from other mainstream sci-fi/fantasy spectacle. Whilst many big budget stories take a more dystopian angle, Doctor Who goes for a more colorful and vibrant tone. It is camp, lively and doesn't seem to give a hoot about these facts. This is what makes this series what it is. It can be dark and philosophical when it wishes to be, but at its heart it never takes itself too earnestly.

When I first started watching this back in 2005, I had a hard time accepting this. Today, however, the flamboyant and over the top approach is one of the reasons why I love it so much. It is rarely afraid to be what it knows it is. It is insanely brave and incredibly self-aware; which is why I believe the 2005 revival became such a gargantuan success upon its arrival.

Whilst the aesthetics of The End of the World were top notch, however, the story itself was actually a rather flavorless experience.

The plot adopts the stance of a whoddunit thriller (establishing Doctor Who as a format which can leap between sub-genres on a weekly basis). Whilst the plot moves by without too many outstanding flaws, the whole execution of the episode comes across as rather lazily written and never seems to be able to be all that engrossing or exciting.

I felt that this was a huge problem for this episode, and it was the point where I started to think that maybe this show really wasn't for me. I like to be dazzled by well-crafted special effects, but if the series was going to be this bland for the following twelve weeks then I really couldn't see myself getting anything more out of it.

The red herring villains (interestingly named the Adherents of the Repeated Meme) are rather sinister looking in their design, but once again, there is seriously nothing exciting about them. They spend the entire 45 minutes hobbling around looking sinister, without really doing anything at all. They are there to look a bit sinister, and that is their only purpose.

Even though the episode's main villain is an interesting character, she still comes across as far too one dimensional for my liking; possessing far too many cliched villainous motives (although her past does sound rather interesting, however the sparkly references and faint nods to her off screen past simply left me wanting to see those stories more so than the one that they spent all this money on telling).

The premise itself is nauseatingly basic as well. Someone is trying to have the observation deck destroyed along with planet earth, leaving it up to the Doctor to save the day. Our energetic hero makes a couple of buddies (including a lady tree named Jabe), swans about for 45 minutes and eventually puts all to right.

But then in fairness, there are some rather pleasant moments during this episode too.

For one thing, I do like the way that Cassandra - the last 'pure blooded' human in existence - is portrayed in some scenes. Her views on how she perceives 'sub-humanity' (humans who have extraterrestrial ancestors) as nothing more than a race of mongrels was a perfect nod in the direction of many bigots who belong to our species in reality. I am of the opinion that no matter what happens in our society in the future, the narrow minded humans of our species will always find some group of people to discriminate against and belittle. Seeing as all races, sexual orientations, genders and other minorities no longer exist in The End of the World, Cassandra has moved on to express her prejudice attitudes by discriminating against every other life form that isn't herself.

Then there's also the marvelous moment in this episode where pockets of history are distorted and lost to the natives of the year 5 billion. They believe that Ostriches had a fifty foot wing span and blew fire from its nostrils; that a jukebox was in fact an iPod; and that Britney Spears and Softcell were once among the greatest classical composers of human history.

This scene is totally bonkers, but it is one that I can not help but find bizarrely plausible if mementos of our race ever do manage to make it that far into the future of the universe. History is jaded and rewritten through misunderstandings all of the time; meaning that if any knowledge from 21st century earth did survive for this period of time, then information gaps would surely be rather plentiful in numbers.

Another lovely part of this episode is the introduction to the story arc, as the Doctor finally admits to Rose that his planet burnt into oblivion during a great time war; making him the last of the time lord race. This great war was actually mentioned very briefly in the pilot episode during the climax, however it was only a whisper of a comment which had more or less no context or explanation whatsoever. It is only now that we have come to understand, as an audience, that our hero is a member of an endangered species.

Not all that much is revealed about this great time war during episode two, however it is at this point that many audience members who were once viewers of the classic era will know that something rather colossal has taken in the events preceding the the new series.


When the show went off the air back in 1989, the time lords were still very much alive. When Doctor Who The Movie came out in 1996, The Doctor's home world was also still standing tall. All the novels and audio spin offs which filled the gaps between new and old Who also included the time lords (one novel did chronicle the destruction of the Doctor's home world, however we soon learn that such a story has no connection to the new series story arc... Although I don't really want to go into all of that off screen business right now, as that will just confuse the shit out of everything; particularly for myself).

During the time that Doctor Who was no longer apart of BBC One's Saturday tea time schedule, so many spin off stories came out that the entire show's cannon became chaotic and immensely complex to follow (even some avid fans admitted to having difficulty keeping up with some of the arcs).

The time war arc is a technique used by the show's head writer - Russel T Davies - as a technique to help attempt to build a bridge between the classic and the new era of Doctor Who; a bridge which allows many viewers to step blissfully over these thorny and complicated concepts cluttered up the anthology of the Doctor's story during the 1990s (more on this later).

The End of the World also uses its plot to deepen the relationship between Rose and the Doctor. She doesn't completely trust him yet. She's angry, confused and scared of this new world which she has so suddenly found herself apart of.

The Doctor, meanwhile, is hiding something from her (which transpires to be the time war which I was previously harpering on about) hindering her from knowing who this man, who she spontaneously ran off with, really is. Trust is not yet a part of this relationship paradigm, but seeing as Davies has decided to go down the dramatic character development rout for this new version of the show, such bonding still has the potential to happen.

Doctor Who's second episode is a visual treat for both old and new viewers. It's a bright, bombastic piece of cinematic television which does not appear to be afraid to show off its sparkling persona to the mainstream masses. Though the episode's story itself does not contain the same level of quality as the aesthetic production values, this story does pave way to a story arc and character arc which reassures its audience that there's much more to come in the remaining eleven episodes of series one (there is also a third plot arc set up during this episode - which is done so through the mention of the words "Bad Wolf" - however I shall discuss this when I come to review episode three).

It's a far from a perfect episode, and despite it lowering my attention span for this series to a point where I was on the verge of giving up, the arcs and promise of something grand kept me clinging on for another week. Well done Davies, but this really was a close call.

Misogyny and Racial Stereotypes: The Real Issue Behind Michael Bay's Movies

I've come to the realization that a majority of my posts are filled with snide remarks toward Michael Bay's body of cinematic work. Anyone who has read these posts will have probably come to the conclusion that I'm not a fan of this director. The main problem is that my remarks have so far been pathetically superficial and empty. I've called his films crap on several occasions, failing to even expand upon the reasons why I dislike his work so much. So instead of continuing this blog by constantly stating that Bay is rubbish, I have decided to write an article which actually explains my real problem with his features. 

It's safe to say that I'm not a fan of Mr Bay. But then again I get just as fed up with the Bay-haters of this world as I do with the films themselves. These haters will not only devote large portions of their time to insulting the intelligence of anyone who enjoys Bay's films, but they also convince themselves that they are delivering some kind of previously undiscovered awareness to his fans, forcing them to alter their initial opinions.

Going on forums and blogs (such as this one) and merely claiming that "Bay is crap" is bringing no such awareness to the table. Everyone, including fans of of his films, know that Bay's movies are daft and silly. They are just not taking everything as seriously as those who claim to loathe them.

At the core of their existence, Hollywood films are entertainment products. Of course Hollywood films can be educational, of course they can possess philosophical themes that make you think about a subject which you may have initially overlooked, and of course they can entertain you whilst doing both of these things simultaneously. But there's no implemented law which states that a feature must do all of these at one given time.

The critics and Bay-haters love to kick up a fuss. In their eyes, these sort of films shouldn't be allowed to exist. They are supposedly the death of cerebral cinema. They believe that such films bring about the end of all interesting and experimental forms of film making. But then if 2009s Transformers Revenge of the Fallen really was the extinction of experimental, idea-based cinema, then what was Inception; the incredibly successful Christopher Nolan film which was released the following summer?

Trashy, brainless features - much like Bay's work - have been around since the dawn of Hollywood, just like the thought provoking and innovative films have been. They have both existed since the industry's infancy.

Back in July 2011, I fell victim to purchasing a ticket to see Transformers: Dark of the Moon. Despite hating all of the director's previous bodies of work, I was actually rather charmed and intrigued by the trailers. Much like James Cameron, all of Bay's films appear to have a somewhat skillful marketing department that knows how to generate interest amongst the general movie going public.

The trailers appeared to show a film which was dark, aggressive and a change in direction from the previous two films. There were also interviews released along side the feature where Bay admitted to getting it wrong the first (and second) time round. I was given the impression that here was a filmmaker who had realized some of his mistakes and was now in the process of fixing past errors.

Naturally I was wrong, but before I came to that conclusion, I had to sit through three hours of a noisy, heartless pile of tosh which more or less turned my brain into cement.

One thing I did notice, however, was that a large portion of the audience was having a whale of a time. The screening room I was sat in was completely full, and the atmosphere that such a crammed audience is capable of delivering was one of content satisfaction.

Whilst I left the film with a sulk on my face, the rest of the crowd appeared to be exiting with a smile on theirs. Dark of the Moon did receive a lot of criticism from the movie critics and IMDB users after its release, however a lot of the general public seemed to enjoy it (the box office figures also suggested that it was massively popular; warranting multiple viewings by many), which implies that Paramount Studios had done their job.

So the general public seemed to enjoy a film which many critics and internet users like to claim is naff. What's wrong with that? If it entertained, then is there a real problem?

Well in many ways no, but sadly there are a few rather serious issues with films such as Dark of the Moon which I think can be rather problematic for our society. I'm referring to the misogynistic and racist portrayals that frequently make themselves visible in such features.

This is a problem which is not exclusive to Bay's work entirely. It is actually an issue which pops up in a frighteningly large number of the mainstream films of today and has existed throughout all of Hollywood's history. In fact, it even takes place in films which exist outside of Hollywood's production circles.

But it still exists prevalently in Bay's films, and seeing as I'm writing a post based around the problems I have with his movies, I'm going to use him for my referencing.

My first major problem is with the shameless portrayal of woman as sexual objects throughout his stories.

Most of the female characters in Bay's movies are depicted in a highly sexualized manner. The camera will often make heavy use of shooting women from a low angle, looking up at their barely clothed bodies as they step from a vehicle or bend over a car bonnet. Close up shots of women in bikini's and short skirts are frequently the norm throughout these narratives (not only is the camera acting in a sexually charged manner in these films, but in Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, even the CGI becomes infected with Bay's voyeuristic fixation, as one of the robot characters develops a habit of dry humping Megan Fox's leg throughout).

What is most unusual about this sexually charged attitude is that it has the peculiar ability to turn a highly popular children's toy franchise, such as Transformers, into what can only be described as soft porn for the masses.

Women's personalities and intellect also seem somewhat nonexistent in Bay's movies. Instead this filmmaker has decided that it is far more important to emphasize the female body than the lifeforms who actually occupy them.

I have no objection to women who choose to celebrate their identity by sexualising or glorifying their bodies. Women, like men, should have the freedom to embrace their bodies and be able to portray their appearance in which ever way they see fit. Whether that be through modelling, art, dance, adult entertainment or any other form of aesthetic expression which exists within our world.

But this is not what Bay's movies are doing. There are no choices for the women here. They are films that are controlled and created by a group of men who use women to bring their fantasies of their ideal woman to life. This is not women celebrating or loving their bodies, this is men controlling women; telling them how to dress, stand and behave whilst they point their lens upward from the gutter. .

These films are much like the other forms of the media who create unrealistic images of women. Much like the tabloids, celebrity/adult magazines and billboards which litter our world, they are building an unachievable image of the female body.

Like the other forms of media, these types of movies do no good to anyone. They normalize this type of behavior, whilst simultaneously assisting to amplify the body hatred which exists among women in today's world.


Whilst the women that Bay and co believe to be of aesthetic beauty are made to parade around whilst the camera and cinematography drools all over them, the other women (aka, the women who do not possess the conventional supermodel appearance) who make their way into these films are portrayed somewhat differently . Characters such as Sam Witwicky's mother - who are not filmed in the same soft porn manner as Megan Fox or Rosie Huntington-Whitely - are reduced to bumbling idiots who are there for comic relief. These awkward characters make stupid claims, ask incredibly inappropriate questions (much like in the first Transformers film, where she keeps asking her son whether she walked in whilst he was masturbating), and run around making an absolute fool of themselves after mistakenly ingesting a bag of hash brownies (Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen). So when women are not being fetishized, the are pretty much depicted as idiots.

Not only are female characters the victims of sexualization in the films of Michael Bay, but they also serve no active purpose to the stories whatsoever. Never once has Bay allowed a female lead take control or have direct influence over one of his narratives.


You could argue that the motivation that their presence gives the lead characters helps to influence the direction of the story, but it doesn't. Megan Fox is nothing more than "that girl who Sam thinks is really hot". She doesn't reshape or have any part in the main narrative of the film. She's just there, in the background, being Megan Fox, whilst Witwicky runs around with his robot buddies and saves the universe from some stupid fucking cube.

This is the only purpose these women seem to serve in such films. We never learn about who they are. We get some microscopic snippets into their back story - like Megan Fox's character has a dad who went to jail, whilst Rosie Huntington-Whitely's character has a shit boss - but that's it. We never know anything about who they are as people or what makes them tick, and it often seems that the leading male characters don't know anything about them either.

Whilst the men of Bay's films run around saving the world, the women don't really have that much to do. They stand around in the middle of explosive battles, gawping around whilst the camera pans across their full female anatomy in super slow motion. And when they are not standing around looking all pretty for the director, they are sat in a control room for the entire movie, waiting for the men to safely return home (e.g. Liv Tyler in Armageddon).

This style over substance approach to woman also explains why Bay decided to hire Victoria's Secret model Rosie Huntington-Whiteley for the leading female role in Dark of the Moon; as opposed to a professional actor who can, well, you know, act. Instead of hiring a person who was capable of delivering an in depth and emotional performance, he chose to go with a supermodel who had zero acting experience prior to this film.  

But then again, some women do get to appear in random positions of authority within Bays films. The only problem here, however, is that he decides to pull out the "heartless bitch" stereotype from his bag of insults. These women are cold, callous and demanding. They are not the sort of people who one would expect has many friends in their personal life. They are not pleasant, and this is a stereotype which has cropped up in many movies throughout history. Whilst the leading men frequently come across as brave and likable, the women in similar positions often come across as uncaring and mean.

Bay has never been good at creating deep characters. More or less every person in his films are flat and dull. We never care who lives or dies, because we have zero empathy for them or their well being. They are just cardboard cutouts who are scattered about the sparkly action sequences in order to try and make sense of all the noisy bullshit that's taking place within that particular 'story'.

As a result of this, many could argue that this justifies the empty female characters, but as mentioned above, the women still quite noticeably wield less power than the men who star in these films. The men are always the ones who are off fighting the wars and obstacles of these stories, whereas the women are just there, waiting for them to finish their battles so that they can provide them with love and affection as soon as they arrive home.

And then their is the inherent racism in these movies. Much like the women, these characters have no personalities, no back story and more or less exist as random plot techniques to try and make the whole mess a tad more amusing for those who are watching it.

One example would be the angry, American hating, vodka drinking crack pot Russian characters who are prevalent in films such as Dark of the Moon and Armageddon. In these films, Russian characters pop up to perform some sort of cartoon caricature of a stereotype.

Bay manages to even bleed these racist stereotypes into the visual effects themselves (much like in the fashion that he did with the horny robot who kept dry humping Megan Fox's leg throughout Revenge of the Fallen). Examples being the jive-talking robots in his second installment of Transformers film, as well as the sassy, black-armored, gold toothed robot named Jazz from the first film.

Different ethnic groups are played up to the maximum in these films; again only really existing for comic relief. This may very well just be a bi-product of Bay's lack of depth to characters (remember everyone is a cardboard cut out) but much like with the woman in these films, such an excuse does not justify stereotyping groups of people in this way.

Bay also likes to do that classic Hollywood style of making the Americans look like the super humans of planet earth. In films such as Armageddon, it is America who goes to the rescue.  They are the ones who will eradicate the monstrous asteroid before it reaches the home of all known life. The rest of the nations must sit back and pray that this team of oil workers can save the day (but then again, I suppose if NASA was ever ridiculous enough to rely on these astro-inexperienced individuals to save the day, then the fact that they are all American would be the least of peoples' concerns).

So on one level, Michael Bay's films can be seen as nothing more than loud, simple, popcorn entertainment. On that level, everything works just fine. A film doesn't have to be all deep and meaningful to justify its existence. People who look down on individuals who enjoy such films are snobbish and arrogant.

On another level, however, these films are layered with misogynistic and racist imagery which often reduces women and ethnic minorities to passive, empty, unrealistic caricatures.

This can be quite problematic, as the popularity of these films means that such unfair portrayals are being exposed to large quantities of people. If such negative and passive representations such as  these continue to exist within mainstream entertainment, then it will continue to be a part of society.

Children will grow up thinking that such portrayals and stereotypes are the norm, whilst people of more mature age groups will simply become desensitized and accustomed to such attitudes.

And that is why I'm not a fan of Michael Bay. I don't care about his films being loud entertainment, it's the sexism and racism which I have an issue with.