The Crime of Chivalry

The release of the John Carter movie, awhile ago, reminded me that I had been curious to read the books by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Bradbury had always cited them as an inspiration, too. So, last week, I picked up A Princess of Mars in the "John Carter of Mars" series.

Burroughs

I was reluctant to read it, in a way, because I had just finished Winesburg, Ohio, which I found one of the most profound treatments of the modern human condition of anything I have ever read. But I was pleasantly surprised by Burroughs's book. It was a delight. It was an adventure, front to back, that made moderate demands on the intellect but that was written well and that managed to be charming and, yet, still to managed to avoid becoming hackneyed. In fact, I found it to be better science fiction than most critics give it credit for.

The Hobbit and the Fruit Bowl

Peter Jackson, director of The Lord of the Rings movies, is not one to let the grass grow under his technological feet. (Hair on top, I'm not sure about.) We already know this, based on the extraordinarily impressive effects in his trilogy. But now, it seems, he has screened parts of the upcoming movie The Hobbit at 48 frames-per-second, twice the speed of the traditional 24 frames-per-second and the reactions were mixed. It seems some people thought the movie just looked too real.

Isn't that interesting? What is even more interesting is that we seem to be sort of alluding to an old debate about art. Is this the new objection to "representational art"? Is Jackson giving us echoes of the perfectly and photographically-rendered bowl of fruit? (As you probably know, many fine artists think photographic-looking art is not art -- that the art comes out of the interpretation of the image. For one example, you might think of the impressionists.) We'll have to see.

I'll Just Read the List, Thanks

The Oscars are on tonight, you know. I love movies, but I can't watch the ego brigade. I'll just check the interweb tomorrow and see who won what. But I do have a few random movie thoughts for the occasion:

Thank God John Williams is up for two films for "best score," because he is the only real score writer left, since Jerry Goldsmith (god of all film composers) died, may he rest in peace. Howard Shore is okay. Michael Giacchino is the only score-writer who gives me any glimmer of hope for movie music's future. But the days of Goldsmith, Steiner, Hermann and their ilk are over. If I have to hear one more tom-tom-heavy, three-chord, French horn melodied film score, I might gnash my own teeth to dust. I have spoken.