Sci-Fi Now and Then

            It came to my attention upon exiting the theater on 13 August 2009 that this year had fared quite well for mainstream science fiction.  J.J. Abram’s re-imagining of Star Trek started the year off with a bang that resounded for the remainder of the twelvemonth.  Midsummer, Duncan Jones’s Moon was rewarded two viewings and was an understated, underappreciated, and impressive debut feature.  The surreal atmosphere and fantastic-as-usual Clint Mansell score helped the film be the only science fiction entry that gave District 9 a run for its money.  The fact that Neill Blomkamp’s film received Oscar nods was fulfilling at least.  The fourth Terminator film was refreshingly fun even if overdone in a few select parts.  There was also Avatar.  Thus 2009 was a pretty well rounded year for science fiction, many of which made a big impression at the box office and award ceremonies (monies- never gets old). 

            It came to my attention more recently, in looking over old movie lists and scanning my library, that 1982 was also a prolific years for good science fiction films.  The second Star Trek saw Kirk and Spock battle Khan.  Computer technology and Jeff Bridges were immortalized in Tron.  Ridley Scott’s Philip K. Dick adaptation in the form of Blade Runner has ceased to

Ever Seen It: Topkapi (1964)

In 1955 Jules Dassin made the definitive caper film Rififi whose fame was further immortalized by a speechless heist where action reigns supreme. Eleven years later, after a slew of comical heist films clearly inspired by Dassin’s, he returned with a comedy of his own and succeeded in outdoing the competition. His 1964 film, Topkapi, is based on a novel by Eric Ambler and sets its sights on an emerald encrusted dagger housed behind glass in Istanbul’s impressive Topkapi Museum.

A professional thief amasses a crew of amateurs to help in the production. An acrobat to hover above the pressure sensitive floor, a strong man to hold the rope, and a bumbling fool to drive the car across the Turkish border. Naturally, the plan unfolds with both major and minor glitches yet the suspense depends as much on these as it does the heist itself. Dassin infuses small points with humor and sighs of relief, saving the biggest for an age-old idiom.

The caper film has only become more popular with the recent slew of films and remakes in the past decade. There exists an inherent suspense in a ragtag group of criminals defying the law and the audience cheering them on. The heist film also appears to be one of the most firmly structured genre films with its archetypical structure falling into three parts; planning, execution, and aftermath. The greatest fun can come from any of the three and the complexities of the inner workings have become spectacle themselves.

Do Genres Make Us Lazy?

It has been well discussed here how the audience to a genre film approaches it with a set of expectations. As Thomas Sobchack explains it, “the plot is fixed, the characters defined, the ending satisfyingly predictable.” I have questioned the spectator’s reasons for choosing a genre film over another that does not fit a particular model. And while I will certainly not complain about the genre film’s status, that does not prevent me from questioning its ethics.

Film is most certainly a form of entertainment. It is also a thought-provoking and socially relevant mode of communication. Thus choosing to watch a genre film can be seen as a choice that one makes with the assumption that it has the highest possibility of yielding a positive result. This is precisely why they are made. So producing a genre film could potentially be seen as a plight of laziness on behalf of the filmmakers. Potentially, not always. That is not my concern at the present time. Rather, I approach the topic from the audience standpoint.

“It is that which we expect in a genre film and that which we get,” states Sobchack. So in decidedly picking a genre film we lend no creativity to our conjectures of the final product. Does this mean we are lazy in our decision? My aim here is not the world at large but rather our current American society that is already plagued with clear and unapologetic displays of laziness. It only makes sense, for the modern general public, that such laziness would manifest itself in the forms of media it chooses to ingest.

The claim could be made that it is the industry’s fault for continuing to make formulaic pictures. It is strictly a chicken and egg debate at this point. However, it is only going to change when the studios feel that money can be gained by making something original. Here comes the problem. We are not a society that is particularly fond of immediate change and it is usually much easier to take what is convenient. So it seems that my initial question could be reversed. Does laziness make genres?

Stating it like such makes it sound a little absurd. There are numerous factors not being taken into account and today’s society is nowhere near a mirror image of society during the birth of film and film genre. Regardless, the film genre remains an important mode of discourse for affirming our ideological stances and broadcasting them to the masses. Thus we continually demand that which we want to see and that which with we agree. I am not suggesting that genres are the only way in which the ideology is perpetuated, but it is the most cinematically available.

So we can return to the original question, this time ignoring any other factor and focusing entirely on choosing between a genre film and any other film. Sure, there is a degree of laziness in picking something that will do versus something that could be more challenging. Thus the genre film and film genre are more than industrially relevant products but are clearly socially relevant, as reflected in their existence.

The Fourth Kind

Olatunde Osunsanmi’s The Fourth Kind was marketed with the archival footage validity that suggested its truth superior to that of Blair Witch or others of the sort. Finding itself released shortly after Paranormal Activity may not have been detrimental to its not too dissimilar delivery. And where the much over hyped subjective footage fest becomes a dull bore , Osunsamni’s film only fares slightly better.

The immediate reaction to the conclusion of this film, or rather in its midst, is one of feeling cheated. The supposedly real archival footage of psychologist Abigail Tyler comes off as a cheap attempt at purported actuality. As it happens, she looks too much like an alien to pass as someone supposedly abducted by one. The lighting is so blatantly ambient and practical that it becomes an oversaturated but dull contrast to the rest of the film. The diegetic narrative is saturated with yellows and blue and makes the mistake of introducing its characters by naming the actors that portray them. A quick search of the film reveals that none of the supposed footage is real, nor was it even filmed in Nome, Alaska, nor did the psychologist actually exist.

For a film named as it is, clearly referring to alien activity, the beings themselves are notably absent save for a few shadows and noisy audio. To call this a science fiction film almost mislabels it. With a few major events to the contrary, one could almost read this film as entirely psychological, the events pertaining to nothing more than the mind and its creations.

Borrowing or Stealing

There exists a curious dynamic within the film genres as explicated by the genre films that they bear. Leo Braudy notices the side that seems to assault our notions of what art should be.

“Genre films offend our most common definition of artistic excellence: the uniqueness of the art object, whose value can in part be defined by its desire to be uncaused and unfamiliar, as much as possible unindebted to any tradition, popular or otherwise.”

Genre films, by their very nature, will contain the stereotypes, expectations, and allusions that define their being. Thus the genre film is a part of a whole, a single entity that cannot exist alone without the context of the similar films and themes that surround it. Thus it is necessary for it to be called a genre film for it to exhibit characteristics of such a film.

At the same time, as has been stated before; the film cannot simply replicate down to the detail everything that has already been done. This would, without a doubt, offend much more than our common definition of artistic intelligence. While they may still find something worthy in it, as can be done with anything, as a whole it would not be accepted. Thus the genre film must strike the particular balance between new and old. It must insert enough of the past to be recognizable while introducing enough of the present to be relevant. “Within film the pleasures of originality and the pleasures of familiarity are at least equally important.”

We might also wish to look at the timing of any particular film as a part of the genre as a whole. Say film x came out with components a, b, c, d, and e. (a, b, c will be generic conventions) Let’s say film y came out with a, b, d, f, g. Film z has c, g, h, and i. If we can allow this simple formula to stand for our films we can see that x and z bear little resemblance to one another. The fact that they came out years apart means that the particular aspects of the genre had changed and the films in between imagined new concepts.

With this vastly simplified example, the malleability of genre becomes evident. Filmmakers have the choice to adhere strictly to the conventions that define the genre or to liberate themselves freely from what has been done. It is inevitable, then, that they would arrive at genre mixing and feel compelled to insert the expectations or themes from a separate and distinct genre. Genre theory as a whole has received criticism because of this point; the boundaries and definitions are foggy at best. Where one ends and another begins is hard to define unless each example were to be a strict and formal representation of the genre.

This would be a rare thing; a film that so exactly captures one and only one genre that the boundaries become obvious and can be traced out on a piece of paper. Evidently, film is not anything near a straight black and white line but rather a multi-colored, multi dimensional web the connects, breaks, jumps, dodges, and disappears where ever it sees fit. The fact that there is so much freedom both technically and narratively makes it such a broad and shape shifting thing that trying to pin it down with terms like genre, auteur, etc. is the best we can do.

So when a filmmaker makes a film, particularly a genre film, they hopefully have some understanding of what they are making. As an audience, we then have to decide both what was used and how so. Is the filmmaker simply taking something that already existed and stripping it of a few aspects and claiming it new? Or are they taking something new and inserting things that have already been done? Do these simple abstracts even apply to the nature of film or does the particular film exist somewhere on a spectrum between the two? And at what point does borrowing become stealing and does inspiration become plagiarism?

Genre. Croneneberg.

If one were to examine the most recent films of David Cronenberg, A History of Violence (2005) and Eastern Promises (2007), it would be easy to prematurely conclude that he works solely in the family drama. But unless the population of films from which one is observing is 3, then 2 samples doesn't manage a very representative examination.

While the concept of family has indeed pervaded his work form the beginning, it has only been in the most recent millennium that Cronenberg films have narrowed focus and arrived precisely at this category. Early in his career, the director was most fascinated with assaults on the body, and from within the body, found most readily available in the horror genre. Thus his filmmaking career came to prominence as scientific experimentation goes wrong and the effects cannot but help detriment society. Yet within these relatively straight horror films the family would still play an important role.

As the 80’s transitioned in, Cronenberg’s film incorporated additional science fiction elements that had been hinted at in the previous decade. The director assaulted his characters by using their own bodies against them. His work continued through the next decade, described more accurately by his adaptations of other’s works with his own brand stamped on.

Thus the oeuvre has incorporated numerous genres, at times mixing, at times sampling. Of more interest here, aside from what particular genres the director navigated, is the effect that such navigation has on his career. Long established as one of the foremost cult film directors, in the new millennium, he finally admits to being able to ‘sell out.’ And Cronenberg is not the only director to have started out in horror, made a name for himself, and moved more mainstream. However, his career can still be defined largely by the horror elements, specifically his commanding hold on body horror.

It would now be relevant to examine how the concept of auteur is related to the idea of genre. As is evident, the range of Cronenbergian films remain distinguishable despite exploration of numerous genres. While other directors have been firmly cemented into a particular genre and identified with such, Cronenberg has managed to stray. It is still most relevant to describe him as a horror director, at least for a little while longer until his body of work more populated with films the reject the horror completely. (If it is possible for him to ever reject it completely)

It would also be relevant to include the production sensibility behind sticking to a genre. With success of a particular film it make sense for producers to place the director at the helm of a film that deals with similar themes since he has proved himself able to tackle them in an understandable and available way. This is not to say that such a pattern can be altered. It can indeed, as the director gains credibility, he also gains freedom.

I think it goes without saying that genre is an important component of the filmmaking practice both from an industry standpoint and a personal standpoint. It allows both an audience to demand work and a filmmaker to deliver it.

Test Screening

It is not an uncommon occurrence for films to be screened prior to release. The objective is to gauge an audience’s reaction and alter the film so that more people will like it. So what does this mean? It means that the ‘art’ is being changed so that it is more widely accepted. Now it goes without saying, even though I have said it plenty, that the film industry is undoubtedly (and no one is pretended otherwise) a business. And yes, it makes good business sense to get as large a demographic as possible to make the most money as possible.

On the one hand this is good. It proves the best chances of a particular film being successful and thus the best chances of other films getting made. It ensures the continued success of the industry. Like the Oscar ceremonies (the word monies conveniently hidden within), they keep attention and interest in a product that survives on getting attention. Test screenings are a way for a filmmaker to know how the audience feels about the work; how it might be made better (read: more broadly accepted) and what they did not like (read: what will not make the final cut). Thus it provides areas in which the people involved might wish to make changes.

So on the other hand, it means that the production company is simply giving the audience what it wants. From an artistic standpoint, then, this sounds the alarm. Art, in and of itself, should not conform to the desires of those who look at it. If anything, art has always stood to challenge its viewer, to make them see things in a new way, to look outside the normal parameters in which their gaze is limited. But as we can be assured, the most challenging movies are usually the ones that a.) do well only because of the controversy involved in their reception, or b.) fail to find and audience and fade into filmic obscurity.

So we may wish to find a balance. But we should also take into account the nature of film. Unlike any other art form, film encompasses numerous areas of creativity and is truly the most complicated collaborative art. Cinematographers and actors and production designers and wardrobers and make-up artists all compile their skill and vision into a (hopefully) cohesive and complimentary work. Further, the temporal aspect of film means that small, short lasting aspects represent a smaller percent of the larger whole. Thus a little trim here and a deletion here do not affect the final product as much as it does with other media.

This in mind, the notion of a test screening comes into a bit more acceptable light. All the work that has gone into the film is still there, some obvious, some subtle. The only way to take it all away is to abandon the film entirely. It is now a question of intent. Is a creative choice made because it fits and benefits the piece as a whole or because it makes money. And is the money enough of a benefit to warrant it? And for those not convinced, is it ever warranted to alter a work, an artist’s vision, to make it more popular?

Keep in mind that all this refers to film with enough money in the first place to afford test screenings. We are mainly talking big films that already challenge the viewer to lend the term ‘art’ to their description. This does not mean the topic is irrelevant however. It is simply the context in which the discussion takes place.

Generic Sensibility

There is something inherently comfortable about seeing a straight genre film. The fact that we are more comfortable and accepting of things we are familiar with may have something to do with it. The genre film does not come alone. The package includes the very distinctions that make it a genre film in the first place. Here, we have expectations as to what we see on screen, how the story will play out, possibly lines of dialogue or at least topics and themes that will play out in the narrative. It is true that seeing a genre film, that is the act of watching a film whose content we know before seeing it, tends not to be a challenging experience. I am not referring to the content of the story, not trying to say that a crime drama is going to be a neat and clean and enjoyable experience. Rather, I am referring to the fact that with a film whose genre is clearly defined we do not have to consider where in the cinematic spectrum of films this particular entry falls. We can devote our attention entirely to the story itself without stepping back and asking ourselves what the movie is about.

I am intentionally generalizing. I won’t suggest that anything is absolute; especially when it comes to film, whose parts can easily intermingle and transform. Yet when a film comes to us, whose parts are clearly defined and easily identified, the experience of watching it is not threatening. We do not have to guess as to its content or struggle in placing it. The next natural thing to do, then, is question the effects this has on the quality of the film itself. In a world so saturated by film, those that are straight reproductions falter the most. Audiences get bored and we want something new, for the most part. But there is also joy of watching a familiar story unfold, one of the reasons we return to the same movie again and again. Thus the pleasure of the genre film rests on a precarious edge.

I suppose it would be possible to watch the same kinds of movies forever and ever, but I would have to get tiresome. Such a practice, when chosen, would have had to been with maximum enjoyment in mind. And as sequels, remakes, reboots, and genre films themselves prove, people do indeed like familiarity. Thus we are proving the genre film to be a comfortable place from which to watch the world, even if it is an entirely cinematic world. Does this then mean that the straight genre film, one that does not mix numerous genres together, is a close-minded decision on the part of the film viewer? Are we choosing not to challenge ourselves to different modes of discourse and topics of conversation?

I would like to think not. I will instead assume that the genre film is but one of many entries into any filmgoers participation log. For anyone who watches films with regularity, it is obviously an enjoyable experience. Thus approaching a film with particular and certain expectations in mind is also done with a sense of purpose. With so many films out there to experience, genres may make the selection process a bit more manageable.

Tron Legacy Set Visit: Part 1 - ComingSoon.net

Tron Legacy Set Visit: Part 1 - ComingSoon.net

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Tron: Legacy is also well under way, looking at a December release. It sees the return of Jeff Bridges, and all the wonderful things given us with Tron. Take a look at this in-depth article from Comingsoon.net.

Update: Upcoming Feature: Robert Rodriguez's Predators

     If you've never taken the time to watch John McTiernan's (Die Hard, The Hunt for Red October) 1987 classic Predator, starring our Californian governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, then you might be interested in giving it a chance. Recently, the Predator concept (which had a sequel in 1990, starring Danny Glover) has blossomed into a full-blown franchise, mingling with the Alien franchise to satisfy the ever-hungry pit of Hollywood remakes and sequels. Alien vs. Predator, which came out in 2004, earned $172 million worldwide, plenty more than its predecessor (which earned $98 million worldwide back in 1988) if you don't adjust for inflation. Unfortunately, both Predator 2 and AVP 2: Requiem (2007) did much more poorly than their predecessors, earning $57 million and $130 million respectively.

     In my opinion, the box office figures do accurately represent the quality of the films. Predator is an amazing film, if a bit slow at times. Alien Vs. Predator is also surprisingly decent, taking the most frightful parts of Alien and mixing them with the thrill of the hunt in Predator. While these two films were well made, their sequels were less interesting. Predator 2 takes the hunt out of the jungle into a major city, where a police officer (Danny Glover) must fight for the city. It really was not that amazing of a movie.

     Likewise, AVP 2: Requiem took the concept of AVP out of its remote icy location and stuck them in a city. Stealing some concepts from the 1999 independent film The Interceptors (also called Predator 3: The Interceptors, even though it's not really a Predator film), placing the aliens and predators in a city that the government has quarantined... it really was not a very well written or well made movie.

     So the sequels weren't as good... big surprise. It's no wonder Hollywood pulled the plug on AVP 3. They did not, however, pull the plug on a new Predator franchise. Robert Rodriguez's Predators, set to release in July 2010, is supposed to "restart the franchise." It's directed by Nimród Antol (Kontroll - 2003 and Armored - 2009) and stars Topher Grace, Adrien Brody, and a Robert Rodriguez favorite Danny Trejo. Principle photography should finish within the year according to Comingsoon.net who recently spoke with Nimród about Predators, in an article you can read here. Be sure to check it out, and check back later for a trailer.




     Robert Rodriguez's revamping of the Predator series is well under way, set to release this summer. They've recently opened a website dedicated to the film, which will have a trailer on March 18th. Take a look!
http://www.predators-movie.com/
     The film is about a group of mercenaries, convicts, and murderers, led by Adrien Brody, are taken to a remote location, which they soon come to realize is an alien world inhabited by the most vicious of murderers: Predator Aliens. They must now fight for their lives and figure out what they were brought there for.

Book: Cronenberg on Cronenberg

Comprised of numerous interviews and spanning a couple decades worth of films, Cronenberg on Cronenberg is an insightful read for anyone interested in the Canadian filmmaker. While other books aim at deconstructing the films, this collection provides the meaningful accompaniment of the director’s voice. Cronenberg discusses the context in which his films were made, the difficulty in getting many of them produced, and the ensuing critical and public reactions.

For anyone already versed in the Cronenbergian world, these interviews do provide some new material while echoing much of what has been heard. Granted, this book came out before many recent publications on the director. A book like this only seems natural for an auteur who is so involved with his films after their release. Through the years Cronenberg has actively and passionately defended his films from those he felt misinterpreted them.

All in all, this book provides a more personal look at the filmmaker as a person compared to texts that focus on the films. The source is always a good place to look when trying to understand something. And this book is a good source.

Unraveling Skynet: Part II - Between the Lines

     At six foot, two inches tall, and two-hundred, fifty pounds, Arnold Schwarzenegger is a very intimidating man, and an even more intimidating cyborg. It can rip you apart with its bare hands, calculate the physics of your movement to shoot you down and will stop at nothing to complete its task: terminate your life. The T-800 of James Cameron's 1984 classic The Terminator is one of the most well known icons of fear in cinematic history. It is also the perfect example of what the 80s considered to be "a man," despite the fact that Schwarzenegger is actually portraying a machine.

     The 80s "man" is rugged, strong, independent, tough, almost mean, uncaring, unkind and in it to win it. The T-800 exemplifies this notion: it is strong, mean, uncaring, and willing to stop at nothing to kill its target. When the T-800 first arrives in 1984, it searches for Sarah Connor using the phone book. Since there is more than one listing for Sarah Connor, he goes through each one, in order of how they appear in the phone book. The first Sarah opens the door for the T-800, he asks if she is Sarah Connor and she replies with a yes. Without hesitation, the T-800 barges through the door and shoots Sarah Connor to the ground. Sarah is the future mother of John Connor, the man who leads humans to the ultimate destruction of the Skynet system, which the T-800 represents. John Connor is a threat to the T-800's existence, and by eliminating his mother, the T-800 can ensure that it will continue to exist.

     What kept the T-800 continuing its murderous rampage if Sarah Connor had already been killed? Certainly we know that this is the wrong Sarah Connor, but we know the T-800 doesn't:

Dr. Silberman: Right. Now, why were the other two women killed? 

Kyle Reese: Most of the records were lost in the war. Skynet knew almost nothing about Connor's mother. Her full name, where she lives. They just knew the city. The Terminator was just being systematic.

The death of more than just one woman makes this machine more than just a threat to Sarah, it makes it a threat to women. This has an impact on the audience, making them hate the Terminator even more, and love the women's savior Kyle Reese. Even though Kyle Reese is more liked by the audience – has feelings, falls in love, saves the day – he is still the 80s man. He is independent, rough with Sarah, seemingly unkind to her, He is the one who knows how to defeat this machine and he won't take orders from her.
     Sarah, on the other-hand, is quite the 80s woman: soft, dependent, but a straight-thinker, moving toward the point where she too can be independent. She lives with her girlfriend at the beginning of the movie, is un-intimidated by her pet lizard, and really isn't that completely frightened when the Terminator comes to kill her (she has fears, but is still able to compose herself).
     Throughout the movie, her character goes through somewhat of a change. Sarah begins to want to know more about the future, despite its grim qualities; she learns to make pipe bombs, and wields a gun; she attempts to order Reese around after he gets wounded ("Move it soldier! On your feet!") and of course, in the end it is her that defeats the machine after Reese has died. But she still bears the traits of the dependent, soft woman. In the Motel, after she makes the pipe bombs, Sarah decides to call her mother, a move that Reese has strictly forbidden her to do. She begins talking, and the audience is shown her mother's house as they talk: a dilapidated house with the appearance that someone has broken in. The Terminator sits at the phone, its voice mimicking Sarah's mother's, and asks where she is. This is another thing Kyle told her not to do: tell anyone where they were. But she is soft, and breaks under the pressure, telling her mother their exact location. Sarah is one step between the 80s woman and the future. 
     Seven years later, the audience witnessed what was for Skynet merely seconds. The second terminator that Skynet sent back in time to kill John Connor was sent at the same time as the T-800, but arrived eleven years later. T2: Judgment Day is James Cameron's 1991 blockbuster sequel to The Terminator, that many claim is equally if not more amazing than the original. With a budget in the range of ninety-six million dollars more than its predecessor, T2 has the chases, the explosions, and the special effects to blow the audience away, and it can stand the test of time.

     But apparently, the characters couldn't stand the test of seven year's time. Although we see the arrival of a new terror, the T-1000, the true difference between the first movie and its sequel are the main characters. A new T-800 is sent back in time, a cyborg that looks exactly like the one that tried to kill Sarah eleven years ago. But its mission is the opposite of its predecessor's: John Connor must be protected. We can almost immediately tell that something is different, for when he searches for clothes to wear, he doesn't rip apart the first person he sees with his hands. Instead, he disables and tortures the people at a bar until they give him what he wants.
     The new T-800 is wimpy. Despite the fact that its physique is still Arnold Schwarzenegger, this Terminator is not the 80s man of the first movie. He is kind, caring, protecting, unwilling to leave John Connor, and ready to fight anyone and anything that would try to get at his family. Sarah Connor says it herself:

Sarah: Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear. The terminator wouldn't stop, it would never leave him. It would never hurt him or shout at him or get drunk and hit him or say it was too busy to spend time with him. And it would die to protect him. Of all the would-be fathers that came over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only thing that measured up. In an insane world, it was the sanest choice.

The T-800 is a family "man," giving up his individuality to be with John Connor, giving up his freedom to protect him, and caring for him, attempting to understand him and what he goes through. Some go as far to say that, since Sarah Connor leaves John with the Terminator just after she says he is the "sanest choice," that we can see the T-800 as a motherly figure, too. It has to fill the roles of both the father and the mother, and by protecting John from death, the T-800 is literally the mother of human kind. Because it is John who leads humanity to victory over the machines, and because the T-800 is giving John life, he is the mother of man's future.

     I don't know if I'd go that far... but there are some semblances between the Terminator and a motherly figure, especially in comparison to Johns real mother, who's "soft" self has now completely vanished. For instance, when John and the T-800 break Sarah out of the mental institute, Sarah yells at John, asking why he would risk his life, the most important life in all of mankind, for a measly woman like her. John then begins to cry and the T-800 turns around and asks what is wrong with his eyes. Whereas Sarah is angry and un-motherly to John, the T-800 attempts to understand what John is going through. When Sarah tries to kill Miles Dyson and stop the future herself, she finds she cannot do it, but instead of actually crying, she makes a horrendous noise and moans, holding back her tears. But the T-800 continues to ask John why people cry. He wants to understand, he attempts to plug into human emotion. The new Terminator is not the 80s man, he is a "man" in touch with emotion, willing to protect his family at the cost of his life.

     Sarah Connor, on the other hand, is not the 80s woman. Linda Hamilton, in fact, changed women forever. She buffed up for the role, lost weight almost to the point of looking sickly. It challenged the way women saw themselves, and actually started a new trend for women to look like Sarah Connor. Although it was somewhat controversial, Sarah's new look was a change from the past and a move toward the future. She is now the independent, uncaring, unkind, almost mean individual who pushes John to be a real (80s) man. Sarah is first seen doing pull-ups, she wields weapons (literally using anything she can find as a weapon: a broom handle, a syringe, guns, knives etc.), takes charge of situations and runs off on her own missions, trying to change the future herself. 
     But ultimately, this new look doesn't suit her. Despite the fact that she looks the role of the man, she really isn't. When it comes down to it, Sarah cannot complete the tasks that a man "must" do. When she goes to Mile's Dyson's house to assassinate him, believing that by killing him there will be no Skynet, she comes to the point where he is lying on the ground begging for her not to shoot, his son leaning over him begging the same thing. We see then, that this is just a façade. Sarah isn't really this brute, rampage-driven woman, because she cannot bring herself to shoot the man that will, in essence, murder millions of people.  And again, at the end of the movie, though she is driven to kill the T-1000, and she has nearly completed her task, the gun she uses runs out of ammo. She needs the T-800 to save her. Hers is still just a façade.
     Just as Sarah wears this façade of being manly, the T-1000 wears the façade of being human. This liquid metal man moves like a machine, but acts like a man, a truly frightening concept. Yet, the most frightening aspect of him is not that he can turn his arms into knives, but that he can take the shape of a woman. Like the T-800 from The Terminator who speaks with Sarah's mother's voice, the T-1000 takes the shape and voice of John's foster mother. This un-natural fluidity to change between man and woman is frightening and nearly disgusting, giving the T-1000 its evil.

     Seemingly taking from what the first and second Terminator movies provided, the TX of T3: Rise of the Machines is just as evil and scary as the first two. This time, Skynet sends a woman, now capable of destroying other terminators, who is part machine skeleton, part liquid metal, the best of both the T-800 and the T-1000. This new weapon is not only capable of that same transformative, gender-fluid freakiness that the original two had, but it can create weapons out of its arms, and has a less human like "skeleton" which makes for a more fearsome machine. Since the machine can not only move fluidly between male and female, but it can move from human to non-human just as easily, adding yet another layer of terror to its arsenal.

     The return of the Terminator series, after having been lost for twelve years, also saw the return of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the slightly improved T-850. This machine is somewhat of a return to the 80s man cyborg of the original movie. In his first scene, the T-850 symbolically rejects the femininity of the T-800 from T2 by destroying the star sunglasses found in the pocket of the stripper whose clothes he "stole."  The T-850 now makes more of its own decisions, even though it often gives in to the will of Katherine Brewster, whose orders he is programmed to follow. Another slightly symbolic act of rejection of the feminine aspect of the Terminators is the fact that the T-850 defeats the TX. She "infected" him with the virus that allowed her to remotely control him, but he was able to overcome the virus, and to destroy the TX itself. 

     The gender binary of female-male roles in films seems to have flip-flopped throughout the years. In the first movie, Sarah played the passive role while Kyle Reese played the active one. Almost as a foreshadow to the second movie, Sarah was the one in the end who became the active character, defeating the Terminator. In the second movie, the two characters of John and Sarah are somewhat the passive/active roles of the first movie reversed. Sarah appears to be the active role, trying to kill Dyson, trying to kill the T-1000 when the T-800 disappears, etc. And John appears to be the passive role, a helpless boy who only knows how to run (even though he orders the T-800 around and helps it break his mother out of the mental institute.

     In the third film, John Connor is once again in the active role, literally breaking free of his passive self when he breaks out of the cage that Katherine Brewster puts him in, only to keep her trapped in her own car later on. Here, the active passive roles from the second movie reverse, the female once again in the passive role, and the male in the active role. John convinces Katherine to go stop her father, John forces the information out of her father on how to stop the war, and leads Katherine to Crystal Peak where he thinks he can blow up Skynet, all while Katherine seems to be along for the ride and to retrieve information from the T-850. 

     Most recently, seeing as how the first two movies were made twenty years ago, and the third one still seven years ago, Terminator Salvation does little to move cinema toward a more equal-stance world. If the goal of modern cinema was to give male and female role an equally active part in the plot, then Terminator Salvation would fail. Although McG, the film's director, recently made Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, (and one might argue that that is more about women as spectacles and not agents of plot than a lot of films), his recent venture into the world of the Terminators is highly male-oriented. There are only three main female characters: Katherine Brewster/Connor, Dr. Serena Kogan, and Blair Williams (and a little girl, Star, who is the mute sidekick of young Kyle Reese). Of these characters, two are hardly ever seen, while the third is exiled and nearly killed for falling in love with a machine.

     John Connor is the main character of this film, a near complete return to the 80s man. He is independent to the max, not following any orders, directly disobeying others, and taking thing into his own hands. He knows the future his mother told him about, and he tries with all his might to be the man with the answers, the one who will lead the humans to victory: but he's not even in charge. He has a few followers, but for the most part he is alone. He can often be harsh, unkind, and care for nothing than seeing to it that his future comes true. Connor may have a wife and a baby on the way, but for being a family man, he's not with them very often.

     His wife, who we see almost as little of as Dr. Kogan, is strong and resilient, and therefore not seen very often. The screen isn't big enough for both John Connor and Kate Connor when they are both independent and strong. Blair Williams is first seen being rescued by a Marcus Wright, the half-human cyborg... (even though a cyborg is already half human... he's actually half human). She leads him to her camp, on the way needing him to save her again. At the camp it is discovered that he's not fully human and he's locked up and interrogated by John Connor. Blair rescues him and frees him but is, herself, exiled. Marcus convinces John to let him try to infiltrate the nearby Skynet compound where he finds Dr. Serena Kogan. It's not really her though, just the machine using her face and voice to convince Marcus that killing the humans is the right thing. But I digress...

     All in all, the world of the Terminators, created by that genius James Cameron, is one of gender confusion. Each film seems to have a new take on the roles men and women should have in the cinema. T3: Rise of the Machines seems to be the most confused, using comedy to lighten the tension it creates with the gender issues, and Terminator Salvation seems even more biased toward men than The Terminator, which was actually made in an era where the independent man was an idol.

References:
"Visual Pleasure and narrative Cinema" by Laura Mulvey
"Can Masculinity Be Terminated?" by Susan Jeffords
"Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, Excess" by Linda Williams
"Is the Gaze Male?" by E. Ann Kaplan

Unraveling Skynet: Part I - The Timeline

    The quiet alleyway is suddenly ablaze with blue lightening. The frizzle sound of sparks and bolts startles a nearby homeless man. High above the street, what appears to be an orb materializes before the man's eyes. The lightening continues as the orb's size increases, its metallic outside reflecting the man below and dark sky above. Suddenly, the orb vanishes in a blinding light and where the sphere once was, a man, naked, now falls to the street.

     Kyle Reese has made it back to 1984, sent from the year 2029 when the war against machines has just ended. But the Skynet machines have been working on a plan. They invented time travel and decided to send back a Terminator cyborg to kill the man who will lead humans to victory. That man's name is John Connor, and he hasn't even been born yet. The cyborg is there to kill his mother, Sarah Connor whose only protection is Kyle Reese. For, when the humans learned of what the machines had done, they sent one of their own back to intercept the cyborg. The chase ensues, and Kyle falls in love with Sarah, impregnating her before he gives his life to save her. The future has been preserved, and John Connor will survive to destroy the machines in the future.
     The problem is, at the same time Skynet sent the T-800 to kill Sarah Connor, they sent a T-1000 to 1995 to kill John himself. This is a newer model, not just human flesh over machine skeleton, but a liquid metal that can take the form of anything it touches (but not complex machinery like a gun). Thankfully, the resistance of humans has learned the skill of reprogramming the cyborgs and has sent a T-800 model to protect John. The young John and the T-800 retrieve Sarah from a mental institute and attempt to flee the state. Sarah realizes that Skynet's plan is a brilliant one: stop the future by destroying the past. If she destroys the company that builds Skynet in the first place, Judgment day will never come.
     And that's just what happens. As a group, and with the help of Miles Dyson (the "inventor" of the cyborg chip), Cyberdyne (the company that eventually becomes Skynet, according to the T-800) is destroyed. See, the first Terminator sent back was only half destroyed: an arm and a microchip remained in tact. Cyberdyne systems used those materials to create new technology, which ultimately became the very thing that started it. This is what we call a time paradox. It is like asking the question, "what came first, the chicken or the egg?" If the Terminator chip gave the engineers the idea to create a chip like the terminator's, then the terminator chip never existed outside this time loop. It was never invented, because the chip came from the future where it was already invented in the past by finding the chip from the future!
     "The future is not set. There's no fate but what we make for ourselves." Although these first two movies were based on the fact that the future timeline is alterable (that Judgment day can be stopped), we can find more time paradoxes that will prove otherwise. True, because the family trio (John, Sarah and the T-800) destroyed Cyberdyne and all the microchips that could lead to the future, Judgment day does not happen in 1997 like the T-800 said it would. BUT, if Skynet was stopped at the time Cyberdyne was destroyed, John Connor and the T-800 would immediately cease to exist, a Jumanji effect if you will (Alan and Sarah start the game, Judy and Peter finish twenty-six years later, and then are wiped off the face of the planet because they don't exist in a world where the game is finished, and Alan and Sarah are back in the Parrish home twenty-six years earlier). Because Kyle Reese was sent back in time to stop the first T-800 and impregnated Sarah with John in the first place, if the future does not exist then Reese can't be sent back in time to create John. AND, the T-800 would never have been sent back to kill Sarah Connor, therefore the chip that is used to create the machines would never be sent back to start the whole process. Immediately the world of the Connors would have changed: John would not exist and Sarah most certainly would not be where she was: in the middle of a steel factory having just escaped from a mental institute (because she wouldn't have gone crazy thinking and talking about the machines because they never attempted to kill her because they never existed).
     And so, we get to the year 2003, when the military has taken over Cyberdyne systems and created an artificial intelligence that they call Skynet. A TX is sent back in time to kill John Connor's lieutenants and associates, including his future wife Katherine Brewster. The TX can't find John because he has dropped off the radar since the destruction of Cyberdyne, and they don't care to kill him all that much anyway, since John Connor was dead in the year 2032 when the TX was sent back. Katherine Brewster reprogrammed the T-850 that killed John to go back in time and stop the TX from killing her and John. The TX succeeds in killing several of her targets before she finds Katherine and the man who is with her: John Connor.
     The TX, as the T-850 explains, is the machine that Skynet created having now anticipated the past: she is a Terminator capable of destroying other Terminators. Because the existence of the Terminators in the past is unknown until one is sent back, it is only after the second Terminator (the one sent to kill John in 1995) destroys the T-1000 that Skynet realizes that it needs to be able to stop other machines. See, when first future existed, there were no Terminators sent back to kill Sarah or John, otherwise Skynet would have anticipated the use of another T-800 as protection. So, once the two Terminators are sent back (one for Sarah, one for John), Skynet realizes that it needs to send something that can kill other Terminators as well the second time. So it sends the TX after Katherine and finds her with John. The TX attempts then to kill both, but cannot and proceeds to the Skynet headquarters where she kills Katherine Brewster's dad, but only after he has successfully initiated Skynet... See, the artificial intelligence that is Skynet created a virus that would take down all communications. Then, all it had to do was wait for Mr. Brewster to connect it to the system where it could send out the nuclear bombs and destroy all humans.  John and Katherine survive and head to Crystal Peak, an underground bunker where they simply wait for the nuclear fallout to be over.
     Just before this nuclear fallout occurs, Marcus Wright is approached by Dr. Serena Kogan. He is about to be put to death, and she wants him to donate his body to science. He complies. Fifteen years later John Connor, still alive and kicking, infiltrates a Machine compound and is the lone survivor, except for Marcus Wright, who emerges after dark, as naked as the T-800 when it first arrived in 1984, a clue that it is part machine. Unaware of the events of Judgment Day, or who John Connor is, or even that he is part machine, Wright finds himself in the hands of the resistance and tells them he wants to fight for them. As of now, this is the most advanced combination of machine and man, because the T-800 model is only now being built. The only thing roaming the desert plains of the post-nuclear world are the T-600s, a bulky, clunk machine that only resembles the figure of a human.

     So, anyway, Skynet has created a radio signal that they leak to the humans. The signal tells machines to shut off. Unfortunately, it was created by the machines to fool the humans into thinking they have the answer to the end of the war. Wright finds this out a tad too late, as an arsenal of humans attempts to attack Skynet central in California. Skynet has also captured young Kyle Reese, an attempt to once again stop the future, this time by killing John's father before he is even sent back in time to Sarah Connor yada yada yada. John Connor eventually saves Kyle Reese by giving his life after fighting the brand new T-800 model, but Marcus then gives his bio-enhanced heart to save John who lives to see another day.

     So ultimately, the timeline is rather screwy, messes with your head, and comes down to this: John Connor is the key to winning the war, and the key to starting the war. If he hadn't won the war in the future, the machines wouldn't have sent a Terminator back in time to kill him which would mean the machines would never have been created in the first place. But, the future is inevitable, and therefore, no matter how many machines were sent back to kill John, he can't die, because there is such a thing as fate. Despite the fact that John destroyed Cyberdyne, he was still called to war unwillingly. He still had to destroy the machines once and for all. Terminator Salvation, the story of Marcus Wright, is the future before the TX was sent back to kill Katherine Brewster, which means that if and when the 5th and 6th movies are made, the future really isn't set. The future that the T-850 told them of isn't the future that now exists, because 1. The TX killed several of the people involved in the winning of the war, and 2. John and Katherine now know that a T-850 will try to kill him in the year 2032.
     So, no future that existed in the original trilogy exists now for the filmmakers to tell. They will be giving us a whole new future, but one that must somehow allow for: 3 terminators to be sent back in time to kill the leaders of the resistance, Kyle Reese to impregnate Sarah Connor, and John Connor to win the war, forcing the Terminators to use time travel to solve their problems.
     Now, I could get into the time between T2 and T3 which were covered by the Sarah Connor Chronicles television show, but since that messes with time even more, I don't want to get into it.

The Results!

     It was a night of anticipation, a year in the making. The 82nd Annual Academy Awards were last night, March 7, 2010, the night when moviegoers and moviemakers alike sit down to watch the best of the best win the trophies: the Oscars! With ten best picture nominations and a female and an African American in the running for best director, tonight was a night of firsts. Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin hosted the event, their opening number being a bash of all the nominees in the highest categories, but did little else the rest of the night.
     It was a three and a half hour tribute to films and the people that make them, a length that was more than unnecessary, being filled for the most part by clips of the nominated best picture films. Unlike most years, this year had only two musical numbers, one being the opening song, sung by Neil Patrick Harris, and the other being a dance set to the nominated best original scores. Overall, the show turned out to be a bit bland.
     An attempt to spruce it up was a tribute to the late John Hughes, and a second tribute the remaining deceased film-makers and actors (a blatant pass over Ms. Fawcett, with a tribute to Michael Jackson). There was also a tribute to the Horror genre... a collage of clips from movies, presented by Twilight's Kristen Stewart and Taylor Lautner. ("even an unexplained homage to the horror film, a genre that is very much alive." -Alessandra Stanley, The New York Times).
     The awards saw some surprises, such as The Hurt Locker's numerous wins, and some non-sruprises, including the win for best supporting actor and actress. The oddest part of the night, however, was the ending. Due to the lengthiness of the show, and the fact that the best picture award is always given at the end of the night, Tom Hanks walked on stage, opened the envelope and read the winner. There was no, "and here are the nominees for..." It was a rushed ending to allow the producers and director a chance to give their thanks, and no time for Martin and Baldwin to wrap up the evening.
     The complete list of wins by movie is as follows:

•The Hurt Locker:
-Best Picture
-Best Director
-Best Sound Mixing
-Best Sound Editing
-Best Original Screenplay
-Best Editing

•Avatar:
-Best Cinematography
-Best Art Direction
-Best Visual Effects

•Crazy Heart
-Best Lead Actor: Jeff Bridges
-Best Original Song: "The Weary Kind" by Ryan Bingham and T-Bone Burnett









•UP
-Best Animated Feature
-Best Original Score

•Precious Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire
-Best Supporting Actress: Mo'Nique
-Best Adapted Screenplay

•The Blind Side
-Best Lead Actress: Sandra Bullock

•Inglorious Basterds
-Best Supporting Actor:  Christoph Waltz










•The Young Victoria
-Best Costume Design

•Star Trek
-Best Makeup










•El secreto de sus ojos
-Best Foreign Language Film









•The Cove
-Best Documentary Feature








•Music by Prudence
-Best Documentary Short

•Logorama
-Best Animated Short

•The New Tenants
-Best Live Short


"The Hurt Locker" Wins Big at Oscars by Michael Cieply and Brooks Barnes

The Drama of How The Race Is Won by Melena Ryzik

Supersizing The Show (Austerity Is So 2009) by Alessandra Stanley