"We men are the monsters now."

Robert Zemeckis's "Beowulf" has, I think, been grossly misunderstood. The popular consensus appears to be that it is another mo-cap failure, all exaggerated, adolescent, computer-generated violence with zero substance. While the film certainly has its flaws, the visual effects techniques employed to create it have apparently blinded many to its rather clever deconstruction of the Beowulf story.

Now, it's inarguable that the original poem is a treasured literary classic, but what some of the more "academic" reviews either don't seem to grasp or conveniently choose to ignore is that the poem is over a thousand years old and is an entirely different medium to the modern blockbuster; literature is an individual experience, interpreted through the prism of the reader's - or listener's, if hearing an oration - imagination while film is a defined, temporal experience intended for a mass audience. What works in one can be disastrous in another.

The key obstacle in adapting "Beowulf" is the narrative structure. The story is split between three battles: Grendel, Grendel's mother, and the Dragon. Classical three-act structure, you say? Not quite. There's a fifty year gap between the last two acts. Furthermore, Beowulf himself is a static character, an idealized hero without flaw. These present no real issue in poetic verse, but in a film that is expected to flow smoothly from narrative point A to narrative point B in two hours or less, a static protagonist will bore the audience and such an enormous time shift will seem unjustified.

Therefore, writers Neil Gaiman and Roger Avary strove to accomplish with their adaptation what any good adaptation ought to do -- find a new reason to tell this ancient tale. They asked questions: why won't Grendel attack Hrothgar? Because no one else actually saw what happened in the cave with Grendel's mother, what if what Beowulf recited isn't the truth? These questions led to a deconstruction of the original narrative where Beowulf is an unreliable narrator and he and the characters suffer from the all-too human traits of greed, pride, lust, and envy. Now, the long gap between the final acts is motivated through exploring Beowulf's regret at the decisions he's made in his life that now tie into the confrontation with the Dragon. The conceit is that this version is the "original" version of the story before it became what we now know in the poem.

The beauty of this conceit is that it makes the nature of storytelling itself one of the film's themes. Beowulf is presented as an exaggerating braggart and even an outright liar concerning his early exploits. After Beowulf is crowned and they perform his "song" decades later, the depiction of Grendel's disarming corresponds to the bare-handed version in the original poem and not the mechanically-assisted version we saw take place earlier in the film; the story has evolved to be bolder and more heroic than the reality. The implication is that this same change has happened to the rest of the story over time, the character's flaws were lost and he became the idealized hero of the poem. (This is also hinted at the film's treatment of Christianity as a rising religion among a rowdy pagan culture, closer to historical reality of the time the poem is set, while the poem of course portrays its heroes as good Christian men.)

The introduction of character flaws into the narrative provides room for character development and greater psychological reality over the course of the film narrative, but it also ties into the theme of storytelling and sets up the ambiguous ending, which I won't spoil here. Why do we tell the stories of heroes such as Beowulf? Why are they so idealized? The answer is so that we mere mortals may be inspired by these stories to overcome our flaws, to avoid the mistakes of the past, and to hope for a better future. This is the position that Wiglaf (and the audience) is left in at the end of the film: is he doomed to succumb to temptation and corruption like those who came before him, or can the tale and memory of those such as Beowulf give him the strength and courage to resist?

It's a new and interesting layer to the story, providing greater dimension and expressing an interesting, meta-textual perspective on the poem - a companion, not a replacement. There's more to cover here - too much, really - but hopefully it's apparent that there is indeed more to this film than what meets the eye.

Is the film a masterpiece? No. For all the intelligent choices made in the adaptation, the execution seems a bit off. Post-"300", the soundtrack is sprinkled with distorted electric guitar riffs to let the teenage boys know that, no, really, this story is COOL. During Beowulf's fight with Grendel, the constant and convenient coverage of his genitals quickly becomes an annoying joke. The animation, while often breathtakingly detailed and beautiful, occasionally looks dull and lifeless; the heightened realism of the motion-capture movements highlights some of the faults of the rendered character designs and lighting. Lastly, while going all-digital has freed up Zemeckis's camera to create some mind-bogglingly creative and awesome shots, he does have a tendency to go over-the-top and his direction calls attention to itself; a tad more restraint could have made this film a classic. As is, it's solid entertainment.

If you can accept that the poem is the poem and the film is the film, then "Beowulf" is highly recommended.

Some Kind of Star Trek

Note: This is a slightly tweaked repost from my other blog.

Last summer, I embarked on a personal quest. With the ample assistance of Netflix, I finally watched all of the canon Star Trek films and feel mildly compelled to share a few thoughts on each. Below, I have ranked all of the films in qualitative order from best to worst (IMHO, of course):

1) Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan -- "I have been, and always shall be, your friend."
The crown jewel, to which standard all other Trek movies will be judged. Despite some poorly aged production design -- honestly, who thought oval-shaped screens on square boxes was a good idea? -- no other film in the series achieves such an effective synthesis of theme, tension, and character. From the early CG animation depicting the Genesis project to Ricardo Montalban's operatic performance, from Shatner's immortal cry of "KHAAAAAAAN!" to the battle in the magenta hues of the Mutara Nebula, the peppering of quotes from Shakespeare and Melville to what is easily the most emotional of all Trek finales, the film is littered with memorable moments. The best-realized story by far.

2) Star Trek: First Contact -- "The line must be drawn HEAH!"
Not quite up to Khan's standard, but it's the best TNG-era film by far and a damn fine action/adventure film in its own right. The script is engaging on an emotional level, the key elements being Picard's desire for revenge against the Borg and Zefram Cochrane's reluctance to accept the mantle of history, allowing the audience to overlook several logic issues regarding the time travel plot device. This is also the only TNG film that truly feels like a film in direction and production values, beginning with the very first epic pullback within the Borg cube -- very impressive from first-time feature helmer Jonathan Frakes. Also notable for introducing S&M to children across the world via the Borg Queen.

3) Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country -- "You have not experienced Shakespeare until you have read him in the original Klingon."
The final film to feature the entire original cast, and a pretty good one at that. Reflecting the end of the Cold War, Undiscovered Country's story of political conspiracy carries a darker tone than perhaps any other Trek film besides First Contact. There are several moments of hokum -- mainly during the Rura Penthe sequence -- but overall the script is quite solid. The opening explosion of the Praxis moon and the zero-gravity assassination sequence feature effects that were groundbreaking for their time, and Christopher Plummer really hams it up as nefarious Klingon General Chang. Neither as technically polished as First Contact nor as well-written as Khan, this is nonetheless in the upper ranks of the Trek series.

4) Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home -- "Double dumb-ass on you!"
I avoided watching this quirky film for the longest time because, despite being well-received and the highest-grossing film of the series, the story sounds incredibly stupid -- the Enterprise crew travels back in time to 1986 to rescue humpback whales and save the future from a destructive probe. Yet, ultimately, I found it surprisingly enjoyable. Watching it right after its somber predecessor, Voyage Home is a refreshing change of pace for the films in that it is almost purely a fish-out-of-water comedy. It mines for humor by affirming just how different the world of Trek is from our contemporary reality, yet because these juxtapositions remain true to the characters the audience has grown to love over the course of the series and films, it works. In terms of artistry and ambition, this is a bit of a downward step from the series' heights, and it is overall a consistent and entertaining effort.

5) Star Trek III: The Search for Spock -- "I... have had... enough of... you!"
Now we've entered a new territory for the series -- the interesting but seriously-flawed middle-ground. The most satisfying of this lot has to be Search for Spock, in no small part due to its resolution of the cliffhanger(s) from Wrath of Khan and the destruction of an icon. The crew's theft of the Enterprise from spacedock and Kirk's reaction to suffering another devastating loss are great moments, worthy of the best of Trek. Despite these admirable efforts, however, the film has some serious hang-ups: the scenes on the Genesis planet look cheap to the point of breaking the suspension of disbelief; the Spock-child subplot, while interesting in concept, was poorly executed (namely experiencing Vulcan puberty); the Star Wars cantina rip-off didn't mesh with the Trek universe; and (admittedly, this is a personal hang-up) while his performance was fine, I couldn't stop thinking of Christopher Lloyd as Doc Brown instead of Kruge. All in all, Search for Spock is still an enjoyable watch, but it isn't good enough to transcend its flaws.

6) Star Trek: Insurrection -- "Have you noticed how your boobs have started to firm up?"
This is another film I had been avoiding due to its reputation and was, in fact, the last of these films I had never seen until quite recently. Like Spock, it's not a bad film but it suffers from several serious problems. The foremost of these is one of scope -- Insurrection feels like a television episode, and coming after the particularly cinematic First Contact, it is especially grating. After repelling an all-out assault on the Federation in both space and time by the Borg in the last movie, now the TNG crew is going to fight for the right of 600 people to stay in their homes. Whoopie. It also doesn't help that the villain, played by F. Murray Abraham of Amadeus fame, is constantly whining and is about as intimidating as a grouchy cat lady. Furthermore, despite the weighty moral implications of the story, forced moments of humor are interspersed throughout the film, no doubt the worst of which is when Picard and Worf start singing "HMS Pinafore" to placate a malfunctioning Data. Still, the morality play at work is mildly intriguing. It's a shame that the entire production seems so inconsequential.

7) Star Trek: The Motion Picture -- "An answer? I don't know the question."
The first film, the post-Star Wars resurrection of the property that launched the film franchise, and a major disappointment. Directed by veteran director Robert Wise, The Motion Picture wanted to be a grandiose, philosophical sci-fi epic in the tradition of 2001. Unfortunately, this ambition came at the expense of character and storytelling. While the film is beautiful to look at and asks interesting questions regarding the nature of intelligence and evolution, it is mind-numbingly dull to endure for its full length. Other than First Contact, it is probably the most cinematic of the series and Jerry Goldsmith undoubtedly composed the series' best score for this film. The Motion Picture is worth an occasional viewing for the grandeur of the music and visuals, but has very little other than its high production values to recommend it.

8) Star Trek V: The Final Frontier -- "What does God need with a starship?"
Ah, the most infamous Trek of them all, nick-named "Shatner's folly." Indeed, Final Frontier isn't a great or even a good film, but there are a few diamond moments to be found in the mud. Giving Spock an emotionally-uninhibited, religious-fanatic brother was undoubtedly an unwise move, and many of the attempts at humor are misguided at best (60-year-old Uhura dancing naked atop sand dunes was jaw-droppingly miscalculated); due to the success of Voyage Home, Paramount insisted that as much humor be inserted into this film as possible, despite the fact that Shatner intended it to be a profound examination of spirituality. The film is also hampered by the befuddling decision, rather than use tried-and-true ILM, to go with a start-up SFX company that produced some less-than-spectacular results. Still, at least amongst our three leads, the characterizations are stronger than ever and keep the film from becoming unwatchable; the Yosemite scenes (minus "Row, Row, Row Your Boat") and McCoy's "pain scene" are all highlights. Make no mistake: Final Frontier is a seriously-flawed film, but it is a far cry from the worst in the series and is certainly worth a watch.

9) Star Trek: Generations -- "They say time is the fire in which we burn."
We've now reached the bottom rungs where the films are so flawed that they become unwatchable; unfortunately, they're both TNG-era films. Generations was doomed from the start with a rushed pre-production and studio demands that a) Kirk must be in the film to pass the baton and b) the Enterprise-D from TNG must be destroyed to make way for a new ship in the following film. These story demands led to the creation of a limitlessly powerful plot device, the Nexus, which the characters only ever attempt to use in the most lazy way possible; i.e. with the ability to return to any point in time or space to stop Malcolm McDowell's madman, Picard chooses to return with Kirk to the last possible two minutes as opposed to, say, the first time he talked with McDowell in Ten Forward and having the two captains dump the bastard out an airlock. The story problems are too many to enumerate here and would require their own blog entry, but there are numerous production concerns as well; Nimoy and DeForest Kelley were unwilling to return for the beginning, so Scotty and Chekov are used instead which feels unnatural, especially since it is painfully obvious that their dialogue was written for Spock and McCoy; the TNG-series uniforms look awful on screen, and the constant swapping between TNG and DS9 uniforms seems unprofessional and annoys throughout; and the music score is as bland and uninspired as they come. With plot holes large enough to accommodate a starship and uneven production quality, Generations is a rushed mess. While some of the ideas within are solid, the execution is so poor that the film is difficult to sit through and isn't one to often be revisited.

10) Star Trek: Nemesis -- "Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse."
And here we splash down into the sewer. While Generations is a mess, it at least tried to be its own animal. Nemesis is a pathetic, shameless rip-off of Wrath of Khan, copying plot points (and even production methods) in a stupefyingly incompetant attempt to revitalize the franchise. From Khan: villain motivated by personal vendetta against the Captain, check; death of the beloved fan-favorite, check; weapon of unspeakable power, check; director hired from outside the franchise to invigorate with new life, check. The problems are that Picard's clone, Shinzon, is poorly conceived and motivated; Data already had an identical twin in Lore, but this was ignored so they could rehash old gags about androids employing childish behavior; the uneducated Reman underclass would have lacked the knowledge and resources to construct such a large, advanced weapon; and Stuart Baird is not Nicholas Meyer. It's obvious that the executives in charge had run out of ideas in the blatant recycling that occurred here, and it's insulting to the audience that they believed this lazy rehash was worth making. Perhaps these flaws are more forgivable to those more unfamiliar with the franchise, but anyone who has seen Wrath of Khan will know every twist and turn of the Nemesis story; there is nothing original here. It is a terrible shame that the TNG crew, the crew that I grew up watching on television, went out on such a sour note, but it is little wonder that between Insurrection's ambivalence and Nemesis' incompetence that the franchise was rebooted. The lack of imagination and refinement evidenced within this tenth Star Trek film is appalling; if you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor and don't. Anything within has been done better at an earlier point in the franchise, believe me.

Of course, you may be wondering why I haven't mentioned J.J. Abrams' 2009 reboot. Simply put, I don't view it as a part of this series, but rather the start of a new one. It is far more action-oriented and, while it got the character dynamics correct, much of Star Trek's thematic resonance was lost in the translation. Don't get me wrong; I greatly enjoyed Star Trek. But it's space opera, not science-fiction. And as such, it is separate from these ten films. For curiosity's sake, in terms of pure enjoyment, I would rank it approximately equal with First Contact.

And that's it. I have finally seen every Star Trek film and ranked them accordingly. I feel like I've earned some sort of merit badge...