Somnopolis

Very amusing video up above. For one it reveals just how often we’re expected to support the careers of talentless husks in today’s culture, but talented creators often have to fight and claw their way to achieve a decent measure of success.

Joss Whedon is an example of this. He is not the Messiah, but he is a decent enough writer. What’s more he actually (prepare to roll your eyes at me) cares about the issues he raises in his stories.

In addition, as the video points out, he has created some notable female leads. Man ten years go by with no one but Sarah Connor, or Ellen Ripley and then out of the blue we’re knee-deep in Buffys, Willows, Faiths, Inaras, Kaylees, Echos and Sierras.

Now that’s all well and good as far as having a collection of poster-girls for that feminist edition of Loaded that you’ll never see….but feminism isn’t just about women. It’s about men too. I’ve always thought the real goal of feminism is not only to empower women, but to change the way men think about their roles also.

In that line of thinking, Joss has also introduced us to a number of male characters that were a refreshing change from the morbid machismo of the cartoonish action hero (see here for example). The chicks kicked ass, despite being dainty size zeros, but the male leads had a tendency to be goofballs, or wry adventurers instead of emotionless Austrian hardmen.

Hardly a copernican revolution in terms of what a male action hero can be, but lets call it a sly inversion anyway. Remember when we first met John McClane? Bruce Willis lent a certain degree of wit to that performance as a beat cop trapped on the roof of Nakatomi Plaza taking out well-armed terrorists. Then the sequelitis killed off whatever trace of that there was, so that by Die Hard 4.0 (ugh!)  he was jumping on top of jets and self-censoring bad language with gun shots. Anyway my point is, Joss took an aspect of that action hero as comic persona and refined it so that John McClane turned into ….Xander Harris of all people! The muscleman learned to feel emotion, act like an idiot and yes, fuck up every now and then. It’s not too much of a stretch, there’s even a Buffy the Vampire Slayer parody of Die Hard, titled School Hard of course. Xander is that everyman hero that McClane could not be allowed to remain. He survives desperate situations by a combination of luck and plucky determination. Plus he makes you laugh.

Remember ‘bitca’?

Here’s a few other male characters that Joss created, with a little twist on the familiar format.

Rupert Giles

Buffy fangirls have their Spike and their Angel shipper fantasies, but to my mind it was the librarian-cum-Watcher Giles who was always the most interesting character. Introduced in the first season as an obvious paternalistic figure to the rebellious Buffy Summers, a child of divorce looking for direction and guidance in her bizarre life of dating boys and vampire kung fu, he seemed so….well British for one. Anthony Stewart Head claims to have based his performance on Alan Rickman and Hugh Grant and there’s a certain colonial condescension there that fits in with the male authority figure he appears to represent.

Then Buffy started to challenge his authority and guess what? He backed down. When he did disagree with her it was often as an equal. This had a double effect – it led into the empowering of Buffy as a young woman, but also freed up Giles to be a more amusing, offhand character, noticeably more relaxed than the subsequent Watchers that appeared on the show. It is made clear that his relationship with the Slayer is considered shocking, despite their successes as a team. The Watcher order is greatly disturbed that Giles has abandoned the controlling behaviour used to bend the supernaturally empowered Slayers, who are always young women, to their will. Furthermore Rupert, or ‘Ripper’, as he is nicknamed by former associates, is discovered to have something of a past. He was the Sid Vicious of the magic scene it would appear, dabbling in the dark arts for thrills and excitement. So when we meet the buttoned down librarian in the first season of Buffy, we are actually seeing someone who has spent a lifetime repressing his wilder instincts.

It’s a fascinating evolution of a character.

Malcolm Reynolds

When Joss cast Nathan Fillion as Mal, former rebel fighter and smuggler by trade, captain of the star-freighter Serenity, he really struck gold. Firefly fans are notorious for their devotion to the prematurely cancelled show and I would argue that that is due in no small part to Fillion’s performance as the rakish Mal.

Here’s the high concept. He’s Han Solo, but better written and morally complex. He would always shoot Greedo first and then afterwards, quip about it.

What’s more, buried beneath the bluster and career criminal pragmatism, he also cares about desperate causes, much like Joss. There’s a sense that having been on the wrong side of a civil war has broken him badly and it is not until his encounter with the Tam siblings, fugitives from the law and in need of shelter, that he rediscovers a cause worth fighting for, or indeed a purpose to life beyond putting food on the table for his crew.

Firefly and Buffy share the theme of choosing your own family and in many ways Mal’s character arc over the meagre half season that was broadcast, as well as the spin-off movie Serenity, describes his acceptace of the role of father to this motley band of criminals and outcasts.

Possibly my favourite scene that illustrates Mal’s nature is this moment from the conclusion of the episode Shindig. Having just defeated the conceited fop Atherton in a fencing match, Reynolds stands over his rival’s prone body:

Sir Warrick: You have to finish it, lad. [Mal doesn't move] You have to finish it. For a man to lay beaten, yet breathing? It makes him a coward.

Inara: It’s humiliation.

Mal: It would be humiliating, having to lie there while the better man refuses to spill your blood. Mercy is the mark of a great man.

[He lightly stabs Atherton.]

Mal: Guess I’m just a good man.

[He repeats the poking.]

Mal: Well, I’m all right.

Victor

Ah Victor, Victor, Victor, Victor. The thinking woman’s crumpet this one. See here Joss was covering his bases quite nicely. Try explaining the concept behind Dollhouse to the average person and they’ll probably (and with just cause) react with horror. Isn’t this a show about institutionalised rape and human trafficking?

Well yes. Yes it is. That is the point Joss is making, that there are those in society who exploit and use the poor and defenceless without scruples. That frequently this will be justified as legitimate ‘business’, or a mere commercial exchange. After all, isn’t the customer always right? When the vendor in question is a prostitute, even a high-class one, their rights are not really all that important.

Which is what the Dollhouse is, an exclusive and very sophisticated brothel for the captains of industry. It hires out ‘Dolls’, men and women whose memories of their former lives have been erased and can quite easily be programmed to be whomever you want them to be. Now if this were anyone else but Joss, I imagine that previous sentence would end ‘….with sexy results’.

But this is Joss and frankly, he seems angry. Victor is a product of that anger. At times the most innocent of the Dolls, in his wiped state he is childlike and troubled by the pain exhibited by others. When on assignment, all traces of doubt and unworldliness disappear and we are treated to a series of fantastic performances by actor Enver Gjokaj. In one episode he essays an David Niven-esque British lover to Olivia Williams’ Adelle DeWitt. In another an Italian art agent. He also takes on the role of a blank-faced intelligence agent, but then blink and he’ll become desperate low-level Russian mobster. It’s a showcase to the talent of actor Gjokaj and Joss gives him every opportunity to display his range. In keeping with the theme of my post, Victor is a broad canvas of male behaviour, running the gamut from sheltered boy to amorous lover and then switch to shell-shocked veteran, or crazed genius.

Victor is in a sense the best example of Joss’ challenge to broadcast television. In keeping with his feminist principles, he demands that character come first, not product, themes that matter, not cliches.

The girls kick arse, but the guys are pretty awesome too.

I was going to add Doc Horrible, but frankly that’s a whole other post.

I just finished watching the first season of Chuck on dvd. Pleasantly surprised, am I. Yoda-speak is quite in keeping with this nerdtastic show, as it riffs on multiple fandoms within each episode.  In fact the episode titled Chuck Vs The Undercover Lover (each episode is named in a fashion similar to old action/adventure serials) is one long riff on Casablanca, with a brief nod to James Whale’s Frankenstein also.

The story concerns itself with one Chuck Bartowski (Zackary Levi), a disaffected electronics retail clerk, who inadvertently downloads an intelligence database directly into his brain. This transforms him into a human computer of sorts, who is subject to uncontrollable ‘flashes’, when he encounters an object, person, or piece of intelligence that corresponds to the information stored in his head. Two secret agents, as part of a joint NSA and CIA operation, are assigned to protect him. John Casey (Adam Baldwin), an unreconstructed Oliver North Reaganite with anger issues; and Sarah Walker (Yvonne Strahovski), who unbeknownst to Chuck (and to his bitter disappointment as he very quickly starts to carry a torch for the blond bombshell) was romantically involved with the very same person responsible for his condition, rogue CIA agent Bryce Larkin. Their mission is to go undercover and maintain Chuck’s anonymity, while also acting on any information he provides as a result of future ‘flashes’.

Where the show’s writers and producers have been very smart is their use of product placement. As while Chuck parodies James Bond, Mission Impossible and The Man From U.N.C.L.E., the life of a retail clerk does involve the discussion of many commercial items, which presents an opportunity for sponsorship. I imagine Chuck was pitched to sponsors as an indirect method of advertizing nerd-friendly products to its audience. So we have our hero and his best friend Morgan discuss their strategies for Call of Duty gaming campaigns. Or standing beside boxes for Cryptic’s original City of Villains game. The camera frequently seeks out Chuck’s iPhone and at one point he extols the virtues of Toyota cars. Even the store where he works, the Buy More, resembles the real world franchise Best Buy (with Chuck’s ‘Nerd Herd’, employees  standing in for the Geek Squad).

There is something fascinating in this constant referencing of brands. Nerds today are a new tribe that spend most of their time online, owe no allegiance to national boundaries or religion, but are fiercely loyal to their lifestyle products of choice. That Chuck is adept at exploiting such brand loyalties testifies to the amount of research that has gone into maintaining the verisimilitude of a show based around a gamer nerd-cum-spy. Indeed their efforts may have saved the show, as it has become so closely related to visible product placement that when Chuck was threatened with cancellation, fans campaigned directly to Subway to save the show and not the television network.

The show also makes able use of fan service to maintain interest. Ostensibly Strahovski is the main focus of this trend, with the actress frequently depicted in low-cut tops, lingerie, or catfighting with other nubile females. Chuck’s co-worker Anna Wu is another example of fan service to a point, as not only is she partial to Gothic Lolita fashions, but she hints at having had lesbian affairs in the past.

Let it not be said that the Chuck writers are misogynistic though. They also have their eye on female audiences with plenty of displays of man flesh. Chuck’s future brother-in-law, nicknamed Captain Awesome, frequently walks about half undressed. There are even elements of ho-yay introduced, with the scene where he asks Chuck for his blessing strongly resembling a direct proposal. Later in the same episode he says “I knew you could handle my family jewels” (referring, of course, to the diamond ring heirloom he has asked Chuck to safeguard. I’m just saying, taken out of context…). Best  friend Morgan (Joshua Gomez) also occasionally tempts slashfic writers, by self-describing himself as our hero’s ‘life-partner’, even going to far as to immediately dump his girlfriend when he mistakenly believes Chuck is single. Ironically his relationship with Anna is real, whereas Chuck is living a lie, as he and Sarah are faking as part of their cover. Slashfickers take note – Sarah Walker is a beard.

So here we have an action/comedy series that aims to please male and female audiences, whether they are straight or guy. I haven’t seen this level of demographic vectoring since Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Whedon’s absence from the airwaves since Dollhouse’s cancellation is ably filled here. Sarah is something of a Buffy Summers herself, as she generally takes down bigger and badder villains all on her lonesome, while Chuck cowers in a corner. Granted Casey does turn up to provide back-up though. Chuck embraces nerd culture, while also gently hinting that life can provide more than goofing off as a wageslave, before returning home to play Call of Duty. Smart, funny and with well rounded characterization, I’m on board for the long-haul.

Misfits

Channel 4’s late 2009 yoof show Misfits arrived on screens in November under a hail of publicity. Twitter channels were created for five of the characters on the show. There were also Facebook profile pages and video blogs on youtube delivered by the respective actors. Produced by Clerkenwell Films, Misfits was said to be the new Skins, another show courting controversy by featuring teenage sex and  substance abuse. Oh, but with superpowers.

It’s so much more than that though. Howard Overman’s scripts (in keeping with the American television writing tradition, he is the lead writer for the show) do not fall into the trap of slavishly imitating yoof argot. The premise of young offenders on ASBOs gaining superpowers due to a freak storm, manages to combine the best traditions of classic comic book origins (cosmic rays, radioactive spiders, spaceships landing in Kansas) with a sharp comment on how teenagers are treated by British society today. Superhero comics once played with popular fears regarding the effects of radiation, or the dangers of the atomic bomb. Now teenagers themselves are treated like some dangerous element. Adolescent foul mouthed polonium.

Our ‘heroes’ are Simon (an introvert who gains the ability to turn invisible); Alisha (’gifted’, with the ability to make anyone desire her simply by touching their skin); Kelly (the stereotypical chav who can hear what people are thinking); and Curtis (an aspiring Olympian whose sporting career is in ruins and has the ability to turn back time).

You may have noticed that’s only four out of the five. There’s also gabby Irish lad Nathan, whose power is left unrevealed, much to his annoyance.

Every superhero origin needs a dose of tragedy thrown into the mix. The Misfits (as good a team name as we’re going to get, although thankfully never used in the show) are forced to kill their probation officer when the effects of the storm transform him into a rage-fuelled monster. The first six episodes of the show (with a second season promised in May 2010) deal with the consequences of the group’s decision to cover up the death. It soon becomes clear, however, that they were not the only ones changed by the storm.

Thankfully Misfits avoids the cliches of ‘freak of the week’, shows like The X-Files, or Smallville. Each episode is focused on a different member of the cast and while the script does sparkle with great one-liners (especially where Nathan is concerned), it also succeeds thanks to the talent of the actors featured. Antonia Thomas as Alisha has perhaps the most difficult character, given that her character’s ‘ability’, inevitably raises the issues of rape and the sexualisation of women in popular culture. Her relationship with Curtis evolves due to their coming to an arrangement that allows them to both equally express their desire for one another, without coercion (and isn’t it nice to have a teenage show that promotes mutual masturbation, instead of the be-all and end-all of genital sex?). As for the failed Olympian, because he is a young black male caught on a minor drugs charge, he is unfairly been made an example of. Curtis (Nathan Stewart Jarrett) has the weight of a whole community sitting on his young shoulders. His feelings of powerlessness in the face of this pressure even extend to his own ability, which can only be activated unconsciously when he is feeling deep emotional stress. This gives Overman something of a neat out, as otherwise Curtis would have become somewhat godlike. Much like Hiro in Heroes. Kelly ‘the chav’, presents an overly aggressive front, but her power forces her to hear what people really think. Even her dog has an inner monologue, supplied by Phil Daniels in a brief cameo. Finally Simon the true outcast realizes his greatest fear – he becomes truly invisible to the people in his life. His habit of filming everything on his camera phone allows him to distance himself (but also incriminate the gang in their crime).

While Nathan’s power is not revealed until late in the series, he presents as an almost meta-character, commenting on the action as it happens. In the final episode he insists on finding the right kind of music track to ‘tool up to’, when the group are about to march into danger. His romantic advice to Curtis turns out to be a quote from Spider-Man. Even when burying the corpses of their probation officer, and one of his axe-murder victims, Nathan feels he has to quip: ‘I’m pretty sure this breaches the terms of my Asbo’.

But the coup de grace is his true ‘origin’, the much hinted at theft of Pick ‘n’ Mix which landed him with an ASBO. It starts with a parody of The Big Lebowski, escalates into a riot and then features a cameo from British actor Dexter Fletcher as his estranged dad (who does uncannily resemble Sheehan).

Nathan is also refreshingly unsympathetic. He is aware that the ’script’, calls for him to find some kind of Breakfast Club-style redemption in his community service, but he refuses to bow to the John Hughesian logic of the situation. “This is a chance to network with other young offenders, we should be swapping tips, brainstorming!”

In the end Overman is not looking to ape Skins or Heroes as some of the press have tried to suggest. The failure of New Labour haunts the show, with the next generation being frog-marched into a right-wing future that will accept nothing less than complete obediance to the state. If anything Misfits is more reminiscent of early 2000AD, railing against the rise of Thatcherism and the government sanctioned attack on working class Britain, attracting the likes of Pat Mills, Robert Wagner, Alan Moore and Garth Ennis. This show is a call to arms if you like, eschewing yoof voyeurism in favour of genuine anger against a generation disenfranchised and abandoned on the shores of the 21c.

Oh it is something special.

I mentioned here before that I am really looking forward to the film adaptation of Black Hole, in my opinion one of the strangest comic book series in recent years. A ragged hole of a story that leaves you drained afterwards, with horrifying visuals nesting alongside Burns’ evocative description of 1970s America.

The story charts the progress of a disfiguring virus known as ‘the Bug’, through a small-town in Seattle, seeming to target teenagers. We never see an adult infected by the disease, which physically changes those who have contracted it, causing them to grow vistigial organs, or deforming their appearance.

Our main protagonists are Chris, a teenage girl who catches the bug during a one-night stand; and Keith, something of a lost soul who is easily taken advantage of by his friends. During the course of the story both become infected by the bug, but react very differently. The virus itself appears to be spread through sexual contact, which is why so many teenagers become carriers. Many are  forced to leave the community and sleep rough in the woods. One scene in the first issue has Keith and his friends casually discuss how the popular Rob Facincani has caught the bug. “Man…that’s the last we’ll see of that guy” one of them says. Like anything else that occurs during adolescence, the bug itself, this horrible, disfiguring disease, has due to its selective infection of teenagers become just so much fuel for gossip. The boys laugh it up and get stoned. Tomorrow is another day.

Throughout the series our perspective shrinks more and more. The events are narrated to us by either Chris or Keith and sometimes when they cross paths we are treated to the same scene from a different perspective. Think a body-horror twist on Kurosawa’s Roshomon, that appears to be the feel Burns is aiming for. As this review points out hyperbole is a recurring feature of the dialogue. Chris and Keith both swear their undying love for their respective partners at different points in the story and a tragedy that slowly unfolds throughout the series is kicked off by a withdrawn young man’s delusional obsession with a girl.

Time is disjointed, we skip and jump back and forth through various character’s lives, and the story even indulges in dreamlike visions of the future, due to either drugs or unconscious prophecy. Rob’s own symptoms of the disease prove extremely unfortunate, as he develops a small mouth just below the hollow of his neck that has a tendency to speak aloud what he is thinking. Claustrophobia sets in with each of the teens becoming increasingly isolated from their friends and families. The bug serves to reinforce how alienating adolescence can be.

This is familiar territory for fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer which also trades in using horror movie tropes as signifying the emotional excesses of adolescents. The bug dovetails nicely as a dual-metaphor for the bodily changes caused by growing up and the mystery of sex itself. Chris is infected by Rob after he mistakenly assumes she knows he has the disease and does not care. Keith contracts it from a partner with a vestigial puppy tail. He never seems to make the connection that she has the bug. Her willingness to sleep with him overrides any concerns he may have. Teenage self-absorption, dream logic and stoned hallucinations combine to form an heady mix of the uncanny, which Burns expertly interweaves with the seeming mundane lives of these characters.

Re-reading the issues I am reminded of some early difficulties I had with the comic. I love Burns’ artwork, but occasionally have problems telling characters apart. Keith has a monobrow and Rob a small goatee, but aside from that they could be twins. The jumps in time and their physical resemblance combined to confuse the hell out of me when I first began reading the book, having come in mid-way through the series. I was convinced Keith was Chris’ boyfriend and while he is attracted to her, they never actually hook up. Perhaps though the homogeneity of the characters is an intentional move on the artist’s part. For their normalcy and bland faces contrast terrifically with the distorted features of the infected teens isolated from the town rooting through the garbage. The community rallies around what is familiar, expelling the strange and seemingly monstrous – although a post-script in the last issue reveals the infected eventually recover and become normal again. Too late, tragically, for some however.

My interest in Black Hole was first sparked back in 2004 when I read a rave on the now defunct Ninthart.com site. I came into the series near the end and was frustrated that I was unable to find back issues. So much so that later that same year I spent most of a brief holiday in Amsterdam searching for issues in various comic stores around the city. Thankfully I managed to get my hands on the whole set, though a trade hardback collecting the entire series is now available.

There was also news of a Roger Avary (currently tweeting from prison) and Neil Gaiman film script, though that has been passed on. Last I heard David Fincher still intends to direct. I am excited to see what he’ll come up with. A combination of his period detail from Zodiac, with the grotesquerie of Alien 3? A sweaty, gritty teen body horror that could rival Cronenberg’s The Fly? Here’s hoping. Burns’ work draws on the cinematic style of 70s horror cinema. It would be a homecoming of sorts to have a film version of Black Hole that lives up to the visionary excesses of the book.

It’s funny how you can go through this life and miss so much. Or maybe not. A life spent watching angry nerds do ‘comedy’, online may not be ideal.

What would Socrates say! The examined life? This is a world of nostalgia, gaming, multiple movie references and cartoons. Real life died and was buried by teh internetz years ago.

Anyway, so following on from my discovery of Linkara’s channel I have burrowed further into the internet like an hungry tick with too much time on its hands and a taste for geeky things (wait ticks have hands??). I have returned with news of yet another Geek Messiah – That Guy With The Glasses.

Truly I am not fit to tie his sandals, although the number of internet-savy entertainment critics continues to grow, many of them spawned by TGWTG’s own website. Itsjustsomerandomguy and Yahtsee are other notable examples. To my mind these are all children of Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Who knew Mike, Joel and the bots were such trendsetters? Now it is almost mandatory for internet movie critics to practice their patented style of roleplay and sardonic commentary on the current Hollywood releases. In fact the Nostalgia Critic’s (another TGWTG persona) own iRiff for The Lion King was awarded by Mike Nelson and the Riffs gang as the best entry in a competition, which helped promote his material.

Real name Douglas Walker, TGWTG also produces movie reviews under the name of Chester A. Bum, a homeless man who may or may not be insane. Obviously this makes him extremely qualified to attest to the worth of films like New Moon, or Terminator Salvation. His reviews have managed to convince me that all movie critics in future should indulge in strong brain altering substances before sitting down in the cinema. It affords the only reliable defence against brainrot. Chester A. Bum was appropriately enough my gateway to Walker’s work. He begins every review with ‘OhmygodthisisthegreatesmovieI’veeverseeninmylife!’ and ends it with ‘Change! Have you got any change!’ In between we are treated to a spoilerific run-through of the latest blockbuster, complete with A. Bum acting out various scenes.

Treat yourself to his latest New Moon review, it really is something special.

Walker understands the value of a memorable catchphrase having come up with a few for the Nostalgia Critic and his ‘Ask…’ personas. This is criticism as interactive entertainment – see his Top 11 F&*k Ups for how he responds to criticism of his own site. He also sketches a nice line in promoting unappreciated classics, whether they be Babe: Pig In The City, or The Rescuers Down Under. Funnily enough Walker was already reminding me a little of the nerdy “nemesises” from Buffy’s sixth season, The Trio, before he echoed Andrew’s Babe recommendation. Perhaps Whedon was on to something in that season after all. The nerds have swooped in to fill the critical vacuum left on the internet by the major media players, their DIY aesthetic a lot more appealing than the flashbangwhallop glitz of Murdoch websites like IGN, or Fox.

For all his natural charm and amusing embrace of nostalgia, Walker cannot be forgiven for his disgusting review of Batman and Robin. Featured among his ‘5 Second Movies‘ collection, the video shows graphic footage of someone defecating into a toilet. Typical of overblown fanboy reactions to mainstream studio adaptations of nerd properties. I found the ‘review’, indefensible. Much as audiences of such pap have a right to feel angry, posting a video so revolting as the Batman and Robin NSFW online is just another example of the extremes fanboy manchilds feel compelled to go to in their continuing need to express just how important cartoons, comics and ‘the Force’, are in their lives. I see no difference between the 5 Second Movies feature and what happened to the unfortunate Doctor Who comic book writer, who received a package containing human faeces in the mail from a disgruntled fan.

I was very disappointed that TGWTG saw fit to publish that video on his site. It detracted from his more qualified and affectionate reviews of childhood favourites, although the feature on the 80’s gaming classic The Wizard soon had me smiling again. I don’t see a world of difference between this South Park-style extreme fanboyism and the antics of radio shock jocks. This is where the now tiresome ‘gatekeepers’, debate regarding print journalism versus free form online content raises its ugly head again. I would like to think certain standards should be maintained, if only in the name of the presentation of ideas. A recurring feature of fanboys is their inability to communicate. I expect more from someone as obviously intelligent and passionate as TGWTG.

It’s too early to guess where this trend in internet criticism will lead to. The thought of Yahtsee being our generation’s Cahier du Cinema, is slightly disturbing. But then take a gander at what is raking in the dollars at the box office this weekend.

Brrrrr.

As always I have my finger firmly on the pulse of the nation and have decided to laud the efforts of a Frenchman at the expense of the hard-won reputation of an Irishman.

Thankfully not in football though.

No, instead I would draw your attention to Paul Feval, whose Vampire City predates Stoker’s Dracula by thirty years. Written in 1867, but only finally published in 1875, Vampire City is the third in a series of short novels by the French author that employs the Undead. Feval lived almost as tragic a life as the sexually repressed Stoker, suffering bankruptcy twice due to either foolish investments or embezzlement. He also drew upon the same source for his vampire novels, a biblical scholar known as Calmet – Dissertations Sur Les Apparitions des Esprits et sur les Vampires (1746).

Whereas Stoker uses the vampire as a metaphor for British imperial fears regarding race, set within a world changed by the industrial revolution, Feval may be responsible for an early form of the literary mash-up, targeting the Gothic genre. The heroine of Vampire City is none other than Ann Radcliffe herself. The events described in the novel are served up as the apparent inspiration for such works as The Mysteries of Udolpho. This is an entertaining conceit, as very little is known of Radcliffe’s life, identified mostly in the text by the italicised ‘Elle’. Like Dracula the story is related to the reader through third party means, here the author’s friend Miss Jebb, the guardian of this hidden past, revealing all to Feval.

Opening with a rant on the capricious copyright infringement and theft of his own works by the English, the Frenchman goes so far as to point the finger at Queen Victoria for her introduction of measures to prevent such practices, saving only for ‘fair imitation’, which is protected under the law.  So in effect, Ann Radcliffe and the Gothic novel is parodied by Feval in Vampire City as a curious sort of revenge. Brian Stableford in his introduction to my copy of the novel seeks to establish ‘Elle’, as a literary precursor of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t feel that is necessary, as by itself Vampire City is an amusing and delectable send-up of the Gothic genre.

Yet the book is not only a work of parody, drawing on fantastical descriptions, such as the titular city of Selene, that have an incredible visual flair. Ornate mausoleums, spiralling towers that glow green in the night, hundreds of statues of young maidens menaced by cruel beasts, Feval’s Vampire City easily eclipses the parlour rooms of polite society and moribund castle of Stoker’s Dracula.

What’s more, his description of the vampire is quite different from the now widely accepted version we know today. If anything it bears a disturbing resemblance to John Carpenter’s The Thing. The villain Monsieur Goetzi is not vulnerable to sunlight, garlic, or presumably crosses (though Feval does state that vampires are ‘a prodigious people which the wrath of God has placed in the margins of our world‘). He does not drain his victims blood by biting on the neck. Instead he employs a serrated tongue. His victims are then physically moulded, their bodies becoming pliable to his touch, into forms that amuse him. Finally they are bound in servitude to the vampire. Monsieur Goetzi himself is peculiar in that he is quite upwardly mobile, plotting to relieve Radcliffe’s childhood friend of her wealth and inheritance. His low standing among vampire society, made evident by his poorly decorated tomb in Selene, reminded me of the scene from Roman Polanski’s The Fearless Vampire Killers, where the similarly class conscious Shagal (Alfie Bass) is barred from placing his cheap coffin near the ostentatious tombs of undead aristocrats.

So Goetzi is that most hated of villains – the petit bourgeois who desires to improve his standing in the world. Feval also introduces a comic stage Irishman, Merry Bones, who inadvertently discovers how to kill the immortal ghouls while employing his traditional fighting technique of head-butting his opponent in the chest. I found myself laughing at this character’s Oirish brogue and frustration at how easily his English lord is duped by Goetzi. For a racial caricature Merry Bones is unusually competent, perhaps at the expense of his English social betters. Feval peppers the text with obsequious descriptions of the English, even a brief cameo from an angelic Lord Wellington, yet I cannot help but feel he is taking the piss.

Which lends itself to the overall enjoyment of Vampire City. It is an absurdist yarn, an exercise in parody, even pausing to speculate on why Gothic novels avoid the subject of bodily functions:

You are entitled to suppose that She ate meals, for her stomach was of the same superior quality as the rest of her being. She slept too, equally well, but these diverse functions and all those which debase our nature we shall pass over in silence. (pp. 44, trans. Brian Stableford)

It may be that Paul Feval’s time has finally come round again. We are seeing a glut of horror parodies – zombies in Austen; Bronte repackaged for teen vampire lit fans – why not Ann Radcliffe – Vampire Slayer?

Brian Stableford argues that the book represents an ‘alternate history’, of Radcliffe’s life, a fiction that Feval uses to explain the source of inspiration for the Gothic novel. My fascination with it also lies in the idea of the road not taken. What if it had been Feval’s novel, instead of Stoker’s, which captured the imagination of playwrights, film-makers and Mormons? What might that have been like?

The moment I saw that Dollhouse was trending on Twitter I knew it was over. Why else would anyone be discussing a show about imprintable humans being used and abused by a corporation that can make them into whatever the client desires? That’s not popular entertainment! The expectation of the show’s imminent failure has been present from before it was even aired. There are three simple reasons for this. 1) The concept for the show described above was never going to be popular on an American television network. 2) Given that the network in question was Fox, the chances of success dropped even further. We’ll have no feminist subversion on this channel by heck. 3) Joss Whedon wrote it.

Whedonites enjoy a martyr complex that just won’t quit. Consider that every television show he has produced has been cancelled. Buffy was dropped by the WB, but then picked up for two seasons by UPN. Angel didn’t survive the subsequent conclusion of its parent show. Firefly got bounced around the schedules and then was abandoned by Fox before the full run of episodes filmed could even be aired.

Dollhouse’s fate was sealed.

So the fanbase have taken to the internet to register their anger. They complain that once again Whedon entered into a contract with the conniving Fox suits, resulting in his vision being compromised. They point to the opening five episodes and the subsequent change in tone following Man On The Street, the sixth entry in the first season and scripted by Whedon himself. It acted as a game-changer for the show, doing away with the episodic ‘imprint of the week’, formula. If only the whole season had been allowed to flourish in a similar fashion! If only Joss could concentrate on his art, without having to sacrifice its integrity.

I enjoyed the show and thought Epitaph One a fitting capstone to the now stillborn Dollhouse mythology. I was also concerned when I heard Whedon was working with Fox again, given the disastrous treatment of Firefly. Was this really pragmatism on his part, or fool-hardiness?

Consider this. The traumatised Firefly fanbase came out in force to celebrate the show following its cancellation. DVD sales exploded and a subsequent film, Serenity, also generated respectable sales on the High Street (although the box office receipts were nothing special). The fans took to calling themselves Browncoats, a name taken from the show to refer to the losing side in a galactic civil war, defeated but still proud of their rebellion. You can’t buy that kind of devotion. Like latter-day nerdish Mensheviks, they are small in number, but intensely devoted to Joss Whedon, even with their own shibboleths such as “You can’t stop the signal”.

Actively courted by the writers and stars of Whedonite shows, this fanbase are party to catchphrases and pop-culture references that would fly right over the heads of the general public. I count myself among them, I enjoy Whedon’s writing.

However, I can’t help but wonder still – why get in bed with Fox again? What possible assurances could they give to win over a man whose father and grandfather worked in television – who has seen it all and has no illusions, surely, as regards how studios do their business?

The projected martyrdom of Dollhouse is threaded into the very fabric of the show. It informed every discussion of the themes and future direction of the series, with many fans greatly surprised at its renewal for a second season. The announcement of Dollhouse’s cancellation included the news that the 13 allotted episodes would air. This means that Fox will have two dvds on the shelves by mid-2010, which the Browncoat faithful will in all likelihood buy for themselves and maybe five of their friends.

That’s a guarantee. DVD sales for the first season of Dollhouse were disappointing, according to reports. No doubt the news of the cancellation will rally the fans and lead to an upsurge. We’ll gather round our computer screens and watch the finale on Hulu, cursing the cruel fate of having a television show once again taken from us (and really, is this all that important? I am reminded of C. K. Louis’ great line summing up modern day malaise “Everything’s amazing, nobody’s happy”). Dollhouse was thoughtful, witty and imaginative. It made me laugh. I was entertained. I can’t help but feel that somehow my feelings are being manipulated though. Fox’s television executives are being cursed on fan forums for their short-sightedness and ignorance. I’m beginning to wonder whether instead they know exactly what they’re doing. Not yet prepared to take the jump into releasing content solely online, or direct to dvd, they instead test the waters by hiring fan-favourite writers like Whedon to fashion small shows that appeal to a devoted minority who will return again and again. Money in the bank.

What about Whedon himself though? Is he the struggling artist, fighting against an unworthy system that prevents him from engaging the public with imaginative ideas? Or is he a showman, a self-promoter who has gathered together an itinerant audience that will follow him onto the next project, wherever it might lead? I wonder if he has discovered a third way, beyond compromise or rejection, an intentional process of failure that allows him to bounce back from each set-back and embrace the very system that knocked him down once more.

Who says martyrdom isn’t an opportunity for advancement?

The sermon on Geek Mountain

During the week Kevin Smith appeared on a panel with Jeannette Winterson (Oranges are not the Only Fruit) and Natlie Hynes, chaired by Kirsty Wark on BBC’s Newsnight. The episode also featured an interview with Mark Millar on ‘comics’, although this mainly served to promote his own book Kick-Ass, the subject of discussion for the panel and a soon to be released film.

The episode revolved around the statement repeated by Wark, and proclaimed by Millar, that the ‘geek has inherited the earth’. Kevin Smith even appeared in a bathrobe as homage to Douglas Adams. Here, he said, was proof positive of the geek reigning supreme – a fat, sweaty man on a panel discussion show wearing a robe.

Jeannette Winterson was having none of it though and argued that comics as a whole are misogynistic. Whereas her fellow panellists were more forgiving (Natalie Hynes compared season two of Buffy to the Aeneid; Kevin Smith’s stoutest rebuttal was ‘its comics :shrug:’), it was clear that two seperate discussions were playing out here. For all the talk of the mainstreaming of geek culture, here was a prize-winning author pointing out the uncomfortable fact that comics often leave a bad taste in the mouth. Yes team comics are quick to point out that there are ‘empowering’ books like Birds of Prey (cancelled), or strong heroines like Tulip from Preacher (finished nine years ago), and Winterson has obviously never read Alias, or Bone, or the work of the Hernandez clan.

She still has a point*. What’s more she represents something of an actual vanguard of culture, in that she is using reasoned argument, whereas ‘it’s comics!’ or ’she’s kick-ass’, smack of inarticulate message board postings. For too long geek culture has subsisted under the radar and criticism of its outpourings is more likely to be met with defensive, angry reactions.

Are comics mysogynistic? A lot of them are. Has the geek inherited the earth? No, he or she is just another ready source of revenue for studios and companies hawking franchises.

Oh and Grant Morrison said the geek has inherited the earth years ago Mark, stop being such an echo.

* Has anyone pointed out to Ms Winterson that her own novel featured in a parody by the Spaced team? I doubt it.

Limping in the ratings and almost abandoned by the Fox network before the 11th hour reprieve of a second season renewal, Dollhouse narrowly avoided the fate of becoming yet another failed Whedon project.

Of course it’s early days yet. The second season started airing on Fox last week and this may be its last, with the show becoming another prematurely concluded American television series, much like Pushing Daisies or Arrested Development.

Bearing all that pessimism in mind is it any wonder Whedon’s finale available exclusively on the season one dvd, Epitaph 1, has a certain funereal quality. The timeline jumps forward to 2019. The personality imprinting technology of the Dollhouse has gone viral and society has collapsed in the wake of a broadcast signal that transforms normal people into violent psychotics. A small band of rebels, including Buffy & Dr Horrible alumnus Felicia Day, are searching for a place to hide out underground when they accidently discover the Dollhouse facility itself. There they find the original technology that inspired the viral tech of 2019 and memories digitally recorded into the imprint chair’s memory banks that may hold the secret of a cure.

The script, written by Jed Whedon and his wife, shows some familiar Whedon influences. A fan of Chris Claremont’s run on the Uncanny X-Men books, Epitaph 1’s dystopia is similar to that of the Days of Future Past storyline. The final fate of the majority of the characters is unknown, but hints are dropped for the future direction of the show.

Alpha is either still at large or has somehow indirectly contributed to this catastrophe (earlier in the season he had countered Echo’s imprinting with a signal delivered over a phone line). Ballard and the girl he sacrificed his career to rescue, now calling herself Caroline, appear to be partners. The Dolls themselves are shown to have successfully integrated their imprints just as Echo/Caroline has. The megacorp Rossum, that runs the Dollhouse, has abandoned any pretence of philanthropism and decided to sell the bodies of actives to those who can afford them – effectively granting immortality to the rich, as once imprinted the mind of the client can inhabit any number of shells. Instantaneous armies can be created with a single broadcast, which apparently China has done, although whether this is a retaliatory gesture or a first-strike scenario is not stated.

It’s all very interesting stuff. Jed Whedon’s script serves to advertize the potential of the show’s concept. It’s also a capstone that delivers closure, should the series ever be cancelled. J. M. Straczynski did something similar with Babylon 5, filming a finale a year before the show itself ended set in a future timeline. It was a lucky thing too, as certain members of the cast left over pay disputes, so having them appear in the premature ‘final episode’, provided a neat resolution to all the dangling plot-threads that might otherwise been absent.

So even if Dollhouse goes the way of Firefly and Buffy (before the show’s resurrection on UPN), the story itself has an overall arc that has been indirectly concluded. Themes Whedon has played with over the years have been explored perhaps more successfully here than ever before. His self-proclaimed feminism is generally the main focus of discussion, but I believe he is also fascinated with the functionalist idea of the body as an instrument. Hints of Kurzweil and Nietzsche (namechecked in Dollhouse) have been dropped in everything from the conception of Slayers in BTVS (young women possessed by a power that transforms them into living weapons), to his run on Astonishing X-Men (Danger, the mansion’s AI, becoming self-aware and manifesting as a humanoid) and Firefly (River is the missing link between the mystically empowered Slayers and the humans-as-programmable-hardware Dolls).

So to me Whedon is not only a feminist, but a futurist, with his ear to the ground where advances in AI and cybernetics are concerned. It’s exciting that Dollhouse is being used as a forum for the discussion of these ideas and the potential future abuses of technology that could redefine our conception of humanity itself.

In the past fortnight Stephanie and I sat down to watch two recent sf/horror shows that are doing the rounds. First up was Alan Ball’s new show for HBO True Blood. You can read Stephanie’s review here. The second was Joss Whedon’s latest titled Dollhouse.

As a confirmed Whedonite/Brown Coat what-have-you, I’m sure my bias is clear. However, True Blood was strongly recommended to me by friends, whereas the word on Dollhouse was that Whedon had produced something of a disappointment. Furthermore, in the interest of full disclosure, I disliked Six Feet Under intensely. The less I say about American Beauty the better. So here I am comparing the two and just so you know right off the bat, yes, I believe Dollhouse is the superior show, my distaste for Alan Ball’s work remains intact and gee, I guess I’m something of a prude.

There are points of comparison though between the shows that I would like to explore. True Blood adapts the Sookie Stackhouse novels of Charlaine Harris, taking as its premise that a blood substitute invented by the Japanese has allowed vampires to ‘come out of the coffin’. The action is set within the fictional town of Bon Temps, where telepathic waitress Sookie quickly falls for a visiting ‘mainstreaming’, vampire named Bill, (who has returned to the community he left behind following the outbreak of the American Civil War and his own subsequent ‘vamping’). The plot, such as it is, charts the course of their romance, as well as a large cast of characters that live within Bon Temps. The humans we meet remain mostly nervous around the Undead, although some are intrigued. Possibly the best idea in the whole show is the vampire bar, Fangtasia, which doubles as a grotty Disneyland for the average Goth, selling merchandise, while also allowing a forum for willing victims to line up to be bitten.

However, as this is a HBO show, the amorous adventures of Jason Stackhouse, Sookie’s brother, are expanded upon for the show, allowing for plenty of gratuitous sex scenes. The character’s introduction in fact is an anonymous sex scene. We have no way of knowing who this simple-minded lover is until he later encounters his sister. There is a sense of a quota being maintained, so many boobs per episode perhaps, at the expense of pacing and character development. Sookie’s eventual deflowering by Bill acts as a mid-season climax of sorts, which I guess is typical of this show’s intent.

Both shows meander for several episodes before finally kicking into gear. What interests me is that while Dollhouse starts weakly, but then improves, it is still considered something of a failure. True Blood does the same, but is considered a success. Is it just porn? Violent death and rough sex feature prominently, as well as drug-induced hallucinations. Hedonism is the name of the game within this steamy, American South setting.

While True Blood claims to be a metaphor for any number of things, and I’ll get back to that, Dollhouse is a straight up treatment of how mainstream society turns a blind eye to human trafficking and the exploitation of the vulnerable. The former indulges in voyeurism, the latter condemns it.

The premise of Dollhouse is that a highly secret, well-protected company, the eponymous Dollhouse, hires out skilled ‘agents’, to well-paying clients as per request. These agents, known as actives, are in fact tailor-made for whatever the job requires. The assignments run the gamut from security to assassination, theft to prostitution. This is achieved by the use of secret technology which allows the Dollhouse’s programmers to create the personality required for the job, imprinting it is called, to be uploaded into a human subject’s mind. This is possible as actives exist in a state of tabula rasa, childlike and vulnerable.

While stories of the Dollhouse are known within the Los Angeles community in which the show is set, it is mostly treated as an urban legend. The Mulder-esque FBI agent Ballard thinks differently and is chasing up evidence that is leading him closer to the heart of the conspiracy. His only clue is a photograph of a young woman named Caroline, played by Eliza Dushku and now known as Echo. She is the heroine of the show, despite the problem of having no personality at all. Each early episode introduces us to a ‘new’ Echo, imprinted for the job concerned, giving Dushku something of a acting showcase to play with. It is indicative of the degree of faith Whedon has in her that he has written such a role for the actress he famously lamented not having met before casting Sarah-Michelle Gellar as Buffy. However, this becomes quickly formulaic with the call and response conditioning of Echo tiresomely repeated at the conclusion of each imprinting treatment.

The narrative arc of the show is the anomaly of ‘Alpha’, an active who contructed a multi-facted persona from the various imprints he had undergone, becoming dangerously unstable. Hints are dropped that Echo is capable of a similar fusing of personas, that she is retaining some memories of her assignations, despite the best efforts of Dollhouse guru Topher. ‘Man on the Street‘ marks the break out episode of the season. Signalling a nailing to the mast of sorts, this episode written by Whedon finally establishes his intent for the show. An active known as Sierra is found to have been molested while in a ‘clear’, state. Echo’s handler Langton sets about investigating who is responsible. Meanwhile a television report into the urban legends surrounding the Dollhouse is used  by Whedon to sketch how ‘ordinary’ people might react to the idea of such an institution. Members of the public are shown to be enticed more often than not, with few complaints that such a group would be trafficking in slaves. Ballard’s arc also steps up, as Echo, or rather whoever is using her as a medium to pass on a message, makes contact with him. She is a pawn of both the Dollhouse and its enemies. Little does he realize it, but Ballard too has become trapped.

There is an epic quality to Dollhouse that True Blood lacks and I find the former more meaningful. True Blood chases the idea of the vampire as analogy, either for the black civil rights movement in the South where it is set, or even the contemporary gay rights movement. However, much like Star Trek or The Uncanny X-Men, True Blood pays only lip-service to these ideas, an amusing conceit to hang around a show that specializes in limp eroticism and brutal violence. Dollhouse follows the trend of Whedon shows in peppering its subtext with elaborate martial arts fight-scenes (an alley confrontation between Ballard and an imprinted Echo was extremely reminiscent of Buffy), yet all the while there is a sophisticated commentary at work.

I am not sure what True Blood is actually trying to say. Much like Six Feet Under it appears to want to address the notion of mortality and an afterlife, but manages only to be ponderous and silly. It is addictive viewing though, the show I love to hate. Which I’m sure is justification enough as far as its creators are concerned.

Dollhouse impresses in its sincerity and wit, not to mention the recruitment drive to snap up actors from Battlestar Galactica. It’s about motherfraking human trafficking people!