Bert Vandecasteele

Month: November 2009

  • 109 – Believe

    I remember that, when watching the Pilot, I got the feeling that some Flashforwards were getting too much exposition, whereas others got deliberately shrouded in mystery. I wondered what the cause for this could be: could these Flashforwards hold the key to the mystery, perhaps? One of the characters that intrigued me the most, was Bryce.

    And now we finally know what was going on: cancer and a Japanese woman. At first, I was kind of disappointed: the flashforward was kind of lame, and didn’t really mean all that much. But by the end of the episode, I was completely sold on the idea of finding love over a flashforward and doing everything for it. And Keiko and Bryce, even if they didn’t share a single scene, were cute as a button and made it believable.

    It’s strange to see Aaron’s daughter at home, and then having it turn into a drama instead of a mystery. I was thinking this would pull the plot forward – hey, it’s a complot against the military from inside said military – but instead we’re getting a “like father, like daughter” situation. I like it, it’s unexpected, but it’s strange to read how people can’t understand Aaron’s position in the matter. Guys, the man was an alcoholic, it’s like putting a bag of coke in front of a recovering addict. You don’t want to challenge him. I, personally, feel for him: if he’s not making the Hollywood choices, he’s surely making the human ones.

    This episode was filled with little winks to other FBI/CSI/whatever series. You know the kind, where they can magically enhance a face, a finger or a turd and find out who killed Bambi. When they told us that they could enhance the smooth surface of the ring, immediately the question on our minds was asked: what about the face? Nice solution, nice little wink to the use of the magical computing thing while solving crime.

    In All…

    It’s episodes like this one that make me believe in this show. It’s wonderfully slow-paced, concentrated (e.g. it picks up certain elements that were left unsolved way earlier), focuses on characters and doesn’t take itself all too seriously (even if it tells the story in a serious way). Too bad the quality seems to be a bit of a roller coaster ride…

  • Das weisse Band

    (A little disclaimer: I wrote this review in 2009 and I did not get this movie. It’s hilarious how much I did not get it. Then again: Getting this movie is the ultimate proof that you’ve become German, so take that as you will. I will leave this review on here just to show my ignorance.)

    Das Weisse BandWhen I left the theatre yesterday, I was angry. It was a strange experience (movies rarely make me angry) which I’ve only come to understand this morning: Das weisse Band makes a promise it doesn’t keep. That’s the only problem I have with the movie, the only thing keeping me from saying that this is the best, most chilling stuff I’ve seen in ages. And the thing keeping me from wholeheartedly being able to tell people to go and watch it.

    Purity: The Good

    Das weisse Band starts around 1912. It follows a small German village for two years, focussing on its different inhabitants and their intrigue. Mysterious crimes are sweeping the surroundings, with no apparent solution. At the centre of the story is the school teacher, a nice man who falls in love with a nurse. Next to that, we also focus on the town priest, the baron, a farmer, the landlord, a doctor… All of these have either a wife or children.

    What’s beautiful about this story is that it quickly becomes apparent that you’re watching “real life”: it doesn’t go anywhere. The thriller subplot is relatively unimportant; it’s the beautifully rounded characters that matter. The actors portray them accordingly: I got sucked into the story fast, and was amazed at how well they performed. I actually believed the children – can you imagine how hard it is to explain the year 1912 to a five year old?

    The movie has a distinct, black and white style. There is relatively little panning going on (and you can forget about zooms entirely, if I remember correctly there’s just none at all). This causes the entire film to get a very chilling, claustrophobic atmosphere. There is no reality outside of the village – kind of like a horror movie. Add to that the absence of music and you’ve got a very dark experience (even if almost nothing happens).

    Sin: The Bad

    Warning: spoiler ahead! (even though I think it would actually improve your experience with the movie)

    So why was I angry? That all sounds wonderful! My big gripe with the film is the thriller subplot: someone is killing, burning and torturing people – and it never gets resolved who. This makes the ending – the culmination of everything regarding these strange events – very anticlimatic: the last twenty minutes build only on the start of the war and the war inside the village. If it’s not important who commited these crimes, then why have them in your plot at all?

    In All…

    Why couldn’t this have been just a character drama set in the 1910s? It doesn’t need the thriller elements; the movie is much better, much creepier without them. I know why Haneke did what he did: he wants us to think about it and come up with our own solution. That doesn’t work for a thriller. It works for the open-endedness of some other plot lines towards the end, but not for a thriller. Have you ever read a thriller?

    What a dud. Now I can’t recommend this movie to anyone. And it is so good too…

  • 108 – Playing Cards with the Coyote

    It was obviously very hard – no, nigh impossible – to top last week’s episode, The Gift. This episode sets up a new chapter, a sort of “Act 2” of the first season. We now think we know that the flashforwards can be prevented (although I do expect shit to hit the fan for Celia). Although… not everyone’s a real believer yet. And those who do believe… will feel the backlash pretty soon.

    The more I watch of this show, the more apparent it becomes that it has a big issue: motivation. How the hell do you motivate people who just witnessed a glimpse of their future? Flashforward’s characters keep on flashing between hopeful and desperate. It’s something I like – maybe not the most optimal solution, but a plausible scenario nonetheless – but apparently, the audience does not. In a way, Flashforward is suffering the same problem that caused some people to hate LOST’s fifth season: time travel makes it very hard to keep your characters engaging. The fact that this is only Flashforward’s first season, though…

    We finally got a better look at Simon – Dominic Monaghan’s character. Not sure what to say. Surely enough, I believe the performance (even if I did think “Not Penny’s Boat” when he met Olivia), but was a card game really the proper way for the audience to get our first insight in the character? I’m aware of the fact that those scenes were all about Lloyd (who is such a charming, likable man), but I know I’m not the only one whose eyes were directed at Simon the entire time.

    I think it’s the setting that did it. Sure, other series have pulled off insane settings, but it’s something I don’t want to see in FlashForward just yet. I mean: where could Lloyd and Simon be playing poker with two random other guys, an odd looking dealer and openly discuss the fact that they caused a world-wide catastrophe? Or are those men – and the dealer – part of the Flashforward Causing Clan?

    In All

    I like this show a lot. I’ve not yet reached a point where I would blindly follow the creators and not doubt their decisions, but if this season delivers something solid, I’m sure it will be. This episode made me wonder, however: can they do it? Card tricks only get you so far – I don’t want to see the card house they’re constructing collapse in front of their noses…

  • His Dark Materials (2): The Subtle Knife (Philip Pullman)

    Every time I read The Subtle Knife, I am completely amazed at the way it starts: it’s hard to tell this is a sequel to the Golden Compass. The Subtle Knife is completely different in every aspect: you’ve no idea where the story is going, you’re completely lost in the masses of new characters and perspectives, and… well, worlds.

    I’d like to say that The Subtle Knife picks up where The Golden Compass left us, only that would be oversimplifying matters. The Subtle Knife introduces us to Will Parry (in our world!), a boy trying to hide his mother. In doing so, he bumps into Lyra. And also kills a man. Bummer.

    On the other side of the story, we are following the witch called Serafina Pekkala (which I find odd, seeing how she was such a by-side character in the first part), Lee Scoresby (same remark, but at least he was never a source of mystery) and a woman called Mary Malone (seriously, who is she?). They all have different goals which are all over the place but still mysteriously come together at the end. Because, you know, very little happened.

    This book is a bit of a mess. It’s like jumping in a pool and swimming in one location: it all feels a bit pointless. It does build towards something, but for me, that something is either not obvious enough, too obvious, or it doesn’t even workd at all. The engine’s running, but no one’s at the wheel.

    Still, the Subtle Knife is a wonderful book which takes the concept of the Golden Compass and expands it. I think that’s the reason I enjoy it so much: whatever happened before was just a tiny speck on the surface of this part. And the fact that the story’s progress doesn’t really work all that well kind of speaks in the book’s advantage: things get complicated and layers of understanding emerge.

    This book gets increasingly theological and metaphysical. Suddenly, as things become more clear, you slowly start seeing the truth: this is a book about killing an Authority – one named God. Combining this with layers and layers of different worlds is a difficult task, so I have to say Pullman managed well. This story is progressing, it’s just unbelievable what it’s progressing to.

    In All…

    This book is the shortest of the three. It’s a shame, really; it should have been a bit longer. It consists of fifteen extremely long chapters (in comparison to the Golden Compass). I personally think some chapters should have been split into smaller parts, which in turn had to be a bit more goal-oriented and fun. This is supposed to be a children’s book; I’m still unsure whether I would shove this in a child’s hands. The excitement and tension gets lost in the philosophical babble – which go on and on and on – your kid would have to be quite the reader to keep up.

    On the other hand, I do think the theme is pretty interesting for children. Most people seem to turn away from discussing religion with children in this manner. I, personally, think a strong work of fiction is the best way to get them to actively wonder about the world around them and the standards attached to it…

  • His Dark Materials (1): The Golden Compass (Philip Pullman)

    His Dark Materials is a series of books which, unbelievably so, work for me. The story’s progress is extremely dodgy, the themes are so hard that they kind of explode out of itself, and by the start of the third book, you are wondering what the hell it is you’re reading, and how this is going to reach a satisfying conclusion. It’s unbelievable. I don’t really get it myself either.

    The first book, the Golden Compass, follows the character of Lyra Belacqua, a young girl living in a world not quite unlike our own, where people have daemons instead of… well, hard to tell, really. Daemons take on the forms of all sort of animals in childs and then settle to one form in adolescence (and afterwards). Lyra is living at Oxford, a prestigious university, when she witnesses the Master of Jordan trying to poison her Uncle, Lord Asriel, a mighty man with incredible plans up north.

    The central question the series revolves around, has something to do with the nature of Dust (with capital D), a grouping of particles that settle around adults, but not children. Lyra’s plot is a little less philosophical in its nature: she is looking for her friend Roger (a kitchen boy at Jordan), who has been kidnapped by an organisation called “The Gobblers” – along with dozens of others.

    The first part is the clearest in the series: we follow Lyra as she heads up north looking for Roger, and that’s pretty much it. When I first read the book, I wasn’t really impressed by it – up till the last chapter, which sets up the second (and third) book. It’s a typical epic story, with a lot of travel involved.

    What did drag me in, however, was the world it played in. Sure, I’ve seen worlds that are almost like ours (apocalypse, alternate universes), but never one like this: it’s all there, but it’s all slightly different. Due to its similar nature to ours, you really get the impression that this world can exist. Except for the talking bears. That’s still just weird.

    In All…

    I’m still impressed that such a great book got turned into such a messy movie. On the other hand, I’m still impressed that such a great book could be so messy. The Golden Compass is still okay, though. It delivers a solid story with a batch of nicely developed characters. It’s also really exciting, and delivers a nice twist at the end. Give it a try, you might be as sold as I am.

  • Harry Potter (7) and the Deathly Hallows (J.K. Rowling)

    I’m always mixed about the Deathly Hallows. It’s okay as a book, but I can’t help but feeling disappointed – and not in a good way, either. As a climax for any series, it’d be a okay. As a climax for this series, however, it does not deliver accordingly.

    In my Half-Blood Prince review, I already said we’d be moving into the domain of tragically depressing. I stand by this. Seriously: how many people need to die senselessly? Yes, I know Rowling’s trying very hard to show the pointlesness of the whole war thing, but come on: loads and loads of people bite the dust for no reason. Two of them don’t even get a scene, just their corpses on the floor, lined up next to others. I know you’re supposed to kill your darlings, but this is just ridiculous. If there had been – say – four deaths in total, they would have been a lot more shocking.

    I like Moody’s death, for instance. It resonates throughout the entire story. Moody dying also makes sense: if he’s dead, then who can still be safe? Dobby’s death was pointless, but if you want to show the stupidity of was, then this is the way to go. I think execution is to blame here: this is never made clear (or never meant, meaning that Dobby was just another casualty for Rowling – which I refuse to believe). Three other deaths – Fred, Lupin and Tonks – are just plain stupid: there is no way Rowling can still mourn those characters – the book is over by the time she can do so. I think it is unbelievable she decided to have three pointless deaths at the final showdown – bad storytelling, bad!

    I also personally would have wanted to see more Neville. Why couldn’t they have gone to Hogwarts in September? Snape could have been made principal a bit later, causing the muggle repression to start a bit later. This would have ensured that Harry, Ron and Hermione fled from Hogwarts, thus passing the torch to Neville. Neville’s reveal at the end is cool, but I still kept thinking that I would’ve enjoyed it more if this book had actually been about him running amok all over school.

    It just doesn’t work anymore. It all feels a bit dodgy. Hiding in the woods, chasing Horcruxes (never mind the Hallows, which I found an even more pointless plot device than the Horcruxes themselves). It’s mayhem all right – such is war – but it’s just about as pointless to watch as Apocalypse Now. But that movie is based onto something truthful, so it makes sense. There’s no point in a making a movie that looks like you’re working on a trauma, if there’s no trauma in sight.

    In All…

    I think the final chapter of the series is a typical situation of how a strong way of telling a story can turn against you: the story never deviates from using Harry’s point of view. This works perfectly as long as Harry is in Hogwarts, at the centre of attention. But if you park your main characters in the middle of the woods, how will you let them maintain that link to the outside world?

  • Harry Potter (6) and the Half-Blood Prince (J.K. Rowling)

    It’s the silence before the storm. It’s the eye of the tornado. It’s that one moment where you’re safe, but you know you’re in the middle of something big, something that’s going to explode soon. So what do you do, as a normal human being? You try to enjoy those little moments you have left. That’s the feeling I get when reading The Half-Blood Prince: enjoy the jokes, while they last.

    For me, The Half-Blood Prince is the height of the series: it’s the last time you can honestly say you’re reading a Harry Potter book without thinking a “but” after it. This book is wonderful, it’s funny and witty – but it’s also the last time a Harry Potter book is going to be that way, and that is something that makes my heart tear apart time and again.

    At the centre of attention in this book is Dumbledore (but then again, you could argue he is the center of the attention of the Deathly Hallows… and every book in the series): he is finally opening up to Harry – albeit partially – and showing all there is to show about the nemesis, Voldemort: his youth, his character, his fortes and weaknesses. These chapters are very, very exciting, but also introduce something else: Dumbledore’s death.

    It was certain that Harry, in order to truly become an adult, has to face Voldemort by himself, without the help of Dumbledore. Dumbledore’s sort of been the Merlin character of the series, and obviously has to die before it is all over. The whole buildup to this is nice, but still a bit shrouded in mystery. It will make for the finer moments of Deathly Hallows.

    The Half-Blood Prince is a book centered around the here and now: because Rowling knew the jokes would be over soon, she focused every bit of her energy on making this book witty. For me, it worked. It’s nice to have grown with these characters and then watch them all when they start fooling around with each-other. Because, hey, even if the world will end tomorrow, you wouldn’t mind a shag today, right?

    In All…

    It’s a bit of a bitter experience, when it boils down to it. It’s the last stop in happytown, and we’re moving to the domain of tragically depressing. Harry’s now grown up, and the series will be aswell. Whoop-tee-doo.

  • 107 – The Gift

    I love plot twists. For Flashforward, it didn’t take too long until a really juicy one arrived. And I love it!

    It had to be coming at some point during the first season, but they still dropped it on us as a bombshell: apparently, you can change your future. Unless they magically bring back Al, his suicide just proved what we were all waiting to hear. I personally never doubted it – free will is pretty big in our western society, if you rob us of that no one would watch what you’re writing – but for it to come so soon… it makes me curious towards what other tricks they have up their sleeve.

    For a minute, I thought we would see Demitri joining the blue hand club. Now that I’ve seen how savage they are, I’m very happy he didn’t. I really like Demitri (John Cho does a nice job at portraying him), and I wish the best for him.

    No Janis this week – but we did get to see a lot of Olivia, Nicole and Bryce. I kind of get the feeling they’re forming a sort of B-story. I want to see more of these people, get them into the plot and not just somewhere along the sides. Although I was pretty disappointed to find out that Bryce’s flashforward was “just” about a Japanese girl. I wonder if there’s a catch to this?

    But back to business: I’m really, really excited where we’re going to go from here. Yes, you can change the future. But how? Is throwing yourself of a roof the only thing that will work? Will someone else take Al’s place? I have a little nagging sensation inside of me that keeps telling me that the intriguing mystery that started the series has been robbed of its spotlight. That a (possible) answer has been given. What’s the next problem going to be, then? What’s next?

    In All…

    I get the feeling that the series is slowly picking up momentum. I thought it was all going a bit slow at first (and the constant repetition of the flashforwards drove me up the wall), but while watching this episode, I actually got the impression I was biting off more than I could chew, and that Marks blackboard was starting to grow bigger than my mind. Have I reached the point where I want to watch these episodes again? Already?

  • Harry Potter (5) and the Order of the Phoenix (J.K. Rowling)

    It’s hard to like “the Order of the Phoenix” unconditionally. It’s obviously a good book – they’ve all been up to this point – but it feels a bit off. All of a sudden, the font’s smaller (at least, in the Bloomsbury edition), the book’s a lot bigger and there’s a lot of frustrating stuff going on. I guess frustration is the keyword for this part, and the tagline: it has to get worse before it gets better.

    One of the three key characters to induce said frustration is the big bad wolf of Order of the Phoenix: Dolores Umbridge. I personally love the character: she brings about everything I hated in my studies as an educational scientist – the butting in, the rosey use of language, the rulemaking – but cranked up a notch: obviously this character is exaggerated in such a way that, by the time she’s getting whacked by the centaurs, it’s very, very hard to like her. Add to that the ministry as a whole and you’ve got reason enough to shout profanity at a piece of paper.

    The second frustrated person is Sirius Black. Personally, I can understand why Black needed to die: in order for Harry to come of age, he needs to be able to stand on his own. The godfather dying is there to show that Harry is not an adult yet and can’t live without him. It’s nice. I do, however, find it a bit of a shame that Black was underused in the fifth book: you see a lot of him near the beginning (seriously, they take more than a hundred pages to even reach Hogwarts precisely for this reason) but then it’s just now and again. Rowling did her best though, she crammed him into every possible corner. And face it: if he’d have come and visit Harry, he wouldn’t be frustrated anymore, and that’s precisely what this book is about.

    Last but not least, Harry is angry aswell. He’s reached the lowest point in his development as a hero: one of his mates has died, he’s been called a liar (and even blamed by some) and needs to reinvent himself. All the snapping at Ron and Hermione does get old after a while, though. It’s amazing how the shock of his godfather removed some of the anger inside Harry – maybe the shock caused him to grow up a bit? Maybe it was just what he needed?

    In all…

    Now, don’t get me wrong: I like the Order of the Phoenix. I’m just glad the other books are this massive. I understand the size of it perfectly, though: there’s so many things going on in this chapter that it’s hard to keep focus. Rowling took her time to tell the story, and it payed off.

  • Harry Potter (4) and the Goblet of Fire (J.K. Rowling)

    And we’re off! Playtime is over, it’s time to enter the big boys’ playground. It was bound to happen sooner or later – you’d be sticking your head in the sand if you said otherwise – and here it is: what started as what can be described as the most adventurous epoch in the series so far, suddenly turned into the beginning of the end, the moment where shit hits the fan and people get hurt.

    For the first time in the series, women hit the stage, as some sort of unknown aliens that are even scarier than the big You-Know-Who himself. If you’re getting the impressions that you want to shake and slap Harry and Ron in the face, that means Rowling’s magic is working: the boys have finally entered puberty, the stage we’ve all learned to embrace and hate at the same time. Victim of the illness is poor Hermione – but if you can’t see something on the horizon, then you’re blind.

    The fourth book also sets up the element of wand lore – which will be of massive importance in the final book. I’m not a big fan of wand lore, it all feels a bit convenient in the final part, but at least she told us it was coming in advance. And I have to admit: the Priori Incantatem chapter was pretty rad, even if they got the order of Harry’s parents mixed up.

    I think that, of all seven books, this one has the most shocker ending. Cedric Diggory’s death is something I did not want to believe when I first read the book: he was the first one to go (even if only a foreboding for the massive slaughter that is yet to come at that point) and seeing how he was set up as an almost perfect hero, that’s harsh. I mean: if it says “Cedric Diggory was dead” black on white and you still won’t believe it, that means it stuck.