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A Review of “I Am Number Four”

I Am Number Four was one that got away from me during its theatrical run. That is, I immediately knew from the preview that this was the kind of movie that looked as though it would fit my interest in new and innovative science fiction. But, I missed it. Not sure how…probably traveling or had other big commitments, but, ultimately, I didn’t catch it in theatres.

So, through the magic of Netflix (how did we live without that), I saw it just before writing this.

The film begins with an attention-getting attack sequence in which someone (we don’t yet know who) is hunted down and killed by an alien on what appears to the the African continent. We quickly cut to the Florida Keys, and learn that the person who just died was Number 3, an alien among a group of aliens that are being systematically hunted down and killed by a race of alien predators because of their abilities. The protagonist of the movie, of course, is Number 4 (played by Alex Pettyfer), and is on the run as the rest of them are. Number 4, however, is also busy being a teenager and trying to fit in as his warrior guardian rushes him on the move when he manifests strange abilities, whisking them away form the tropics and into rural Ohio, whilst scrubbing any trace of Number 4 from the Internet. The issue is that Number 4 (who is now dubbed “John Doe” as a cover identity to make him “invisible”) is busy coming of age in his teenage years here on earth, complete with a love interest, played by Dianna Argon, whom I am very happy to see in something other than the disaster that is Glee, and to appreciate her ability to actually do some substantive acting.

Thus, it was about thirty minutes into the movie when I began to be disappointed, feeling as though I was lost in a derivative of Smallville. This was supposed to be new and innovative science fiction, darnit, not another teenage “rescue the girl with my super powers” drama. Except, despite my disappointment, I was found myself continuing to watch with interest, cheering for the hero and unable to look away as the good vs. evil fight to survive escalated to a climax.

That was when I realized that I wasn’t disappointed at all, once I began to view the movie for what it is: the cinematic equivalent of a YA novel. This isn’t an adult film. There’s nothing new here as far as the plot, the character development is sufficient but not particularly erudite, and the movie as a whole isn’t complex in any way. The backstory is filled in during quick expositional dialogue between the characters, but somehow doesn’t leave the viewer wanting. We just understand that this is where we are coming into the narrative and keep rolling with the punches, because its the punches of the now (both emotional and supernatural) that matter most for this hour and 40-odd minutes.

I Am Number Four is not adult science fiction. It is YA science fiction, and it is very, very good YA science fiction.

Watch this expecting cool new near-future science fiction ideas along the lines of Push or Next, and you’ll be disappointed. Watch this expecting a coming of age, YA novel on film, and you’ll be very pleasantly surprised, because that’s exactly what this film is intended to be. The genre is fulfilled nicely: good vs. evil conflict, the hero growing up and standing for what is right at the expense of himself, the discovery that we cannot stand alone, and the pledge to always love the girl for whom he has inexplicably fallen for the rest of his life as he rides off into further adventures with a wide-open story arc that begs for a sequel (please, Hollywood, wait until you’re doing better than you have been with sequels as of late if you intend to give us one).

What’s particularly surprising is that the film is produced by Michael Bay. I say surprising because the action sequences are gripping and big in signature Bay style, but never once overwhelming (and, honestly, not even that big considering Bay’s usual fare). In fact, they compliment the narrative perfectly, and character development is never once overshadowed by the battles. The writers have inserted action sequences with excellent judgement, and the viewer never feels that they are there without good reason. That, from a fellow writer’s perspective, is a mark of good screen-writing.

Combined with this good judgement are excellent performances by all of the actors involved. You hate the bad guys and cheer for the good guys, but both are more complex and three-dimensional than that, and you feel as though you’ve come to know the characters through the actors’ performances by the time the credits roll. Further, the end is redemptive as Number 4 recognizes his calling, eschews his childish ways, and takes seriously his responsibility to live up to his gifting.

As I said before, the film does leave one a bit reminiscent of Smallville, and some of Number 6’s fight sequences smack of vintage Buffy the Vampire Slayer. None of this, though, happens in a bad way, and the movie honestly never attempts to do something new or daring. The goal here is to tell an excellent YA science fiction coming-of-age tale, one that will broaden the viewer’s horizons and leave you feeling the glow of redemptive positivity at the end. This is the sort of movie I hope my daughter enjoys when she is old enough to enjoy such storytelling.

I’m surprised that the film wasn’t billed for young adults, but I’ll just consider it a chance to find a hidden gem. I Am Number Four was as excellent as I had hoped, but in a different way than I had hoped. If this was one that got away from you in its theatrical run as it was for me, place it in your Netflix cue now. In fact, bump it to the top. This is just a basic, really good movie that you’ll be glad you (and your children) watched.

What Are We Going to do Tonight, Google?

When I was an undergrad, I moved off campus somewhere around my junior year. I used to make absolutely certain that I was home by 4:00 every evening, because the ultimate in escapism was awaiting as my reward. The thirty minute reprieve for which I longed as sweet relief from the stresses of undergraduate life? Animaniacs.

One of my favorite refrains from this classic piece of animated history was the exchange between Pinky and the Brain (who would later move on to their own thirty minutes of stardom), which went like this:

“What are we going to do tonight, Brain?”

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!!”

Yes, that was good comedy.

I mention this because I couldn’t help but hear these gene-spliced lab mice discussing their evil machinations when I read over the weekend that Google is in talks to purchase Hulu. I understand that (unfortunately) where profit is to be made, corporate giants will play. I just wish that there was more of a focus on doing something well, rather than making millions upon millions by doing everything one can that happens to be closely related to what they do well.

What I mean is this: Google is synonymous with search. Search is what they’ve always done better than anyone else. Recently, as the trend of the information age has shifted to the cloud, Google has positioned themselves (arguably very well) to become synonymous with cloud computing. What’s more, nearly everyone can access their web applications because these applications are free for the end user, supported by Google’s ad revenue. This is because ad placement is something else with which Google has attempted to make themselves synonymous. So, you see where I’m going with this? In one paragraph, I’ve counted three things that Google has positioned themselves to do better than anyone else. And I haven’t even discussed mapping, streetviews, geo-tagging, and book scanning and sales (some of which have resulted in some legal issues that are still playing out).

Now, obviously (as this blog is hosted where it is) I use Google. In fact, I live in my Google account for various daily functions, because its relatively simple, and Google makes it intentionally easy to export your data to other services whenever you so choose. Google also makes for the best email experience ever by general consensus. And, while I see the advantages of the cloud, its primary use in my life is in my role as a blogger. Otherwise, I use the cloud for basic data syncing, and often not even that (as a paranoid writer, I refuse to entrust pre-copyrighted manuscripts to cloud-based servers). I don’t even have much use for cloud-based music servers that are becoming all the rage, other than perhaps as a secondary back-up solution. Still, one has to recognize that the cloud offers enormous simplicity for many reasons, and, ultimately, more and more of our daily lives will find themselves migrating there simply because that’s the natural progression of our current technology.

Which leads me to my concern over Google.

There is much talk of Google’s corporate culture in the tech world. One of the corporations’s central values, apparently, is “Don’t be evil.” I scratched my head when Google bought YouTube. I deeply considered the Google Books project, but concluded that they were trying to do something for the greater good. If, however, Google purchases Hulu (a site that has replaced cable television for the tech-savvy…and did I mention that Google has a foray into the television world already?), I begin to suspect that they’re trying to take over the world. Well, the digital world, at least. If one digital provider assumes too much power, can we not legitimately hold some trepidation that absolute power will corrupt absolutely? Providing competition in the consumer technology sphere is admirable, but controlling an enormous number our everyday media outlets is a bit scary (one can make the ethical argument that any one source controlling the entirety of our media thus controls the thoughts of a culture…and its a short leap from there to search domination, as well).

Also at issue (as anyone who has struggled with time management will attest) is the fact that doing too many things results in doing none of them well. Google currently dominates search. They have the best mapping applications, both mobile and desktop. They created the mobile OS that is the only serious competitor to iOS. They own the largest video streaming site in the world, and are linking themselves to televisions in living rooms. They are valiantly attempting to make the world’s literature accessible to anyone with a web browser. They do chat, they do video calls, they do email, they do calendars. They do word processing. They do blogs. Is it possible to continue to do all of these well? We’ve already seen Google (arguably) fail with its attempt at micro-blogging, and only recently have they launched themselves into the social networking sphere.

I like Google. I use many of their cloud services, and I use them happily. No one can touch their search capability, and I like hosting this blog here. Honestly, however, there are some things for which I use other providers, based simply on the fact that I’m just paranoid enough to not want any one provider to have that much data about that much of my life. I wish that, instead of expanding into brave new worlds, Google would concentrate on the handful of things that they do better than anyone else.

I’m going to suspect that they’re having another night in the lab planning their next grandiose scheme at world domination when they launch their own music store.

Oh, wait. They already have.

Social Media Voyeurism

I’ve a confession to make.

While “Inbox Zero” has been more than a bit elusive for me lately, I did manage to clear out my RSS feeds this morning. That means that, in addition to news, I read all manner of new blog posts, as well as old blog posts that I hadn’t quite gotten around to yet. Blogging, obviously, is very important to me. Yet, several posts into my reading this morning, I realized that I had only commented on two. And only one of those was substantive.

Moreover, what was missing from my feeds was further discussion on a comment chain in which I had engaged in some discussion a few days ago. I suppose I should consider that conversation dead now.

So, as much as I lament this issue in the blogosphere, I seem to have become a part of the problem on more than one occasion. You see, I’m troubled by how we read. By that, I don’t mean the distractibility that comes with jumping around with hyperlinks (a discussion in itself), but rather the idea that we “consume” our media. In fact, that is the phrase that is used to describe how we read and watch and listen in tech circles, as though the words of our authors, the conversation of our actors and hosts, and the notes of our musicians are commodities that we somehow own simply because we’ve purchased them or pay some sort of subscription or access fee. Thus, we “consume” our media. This sounds like a gluttonous act, one that makes me envision some sort of over-filled, greedy eater shoveling more and more into his mouth in order to satiate an appetite that is without end.

The difference, I’ve talked about before, is between “consuming” media, and “engaging” media. The same is true of art. We can take it in, or we can stop to think about it, appreciate it. We can go out to coffee and talk about it later. All of that has to do with “engaging” the art. The same should be true of “engaging” our media.

But what does this have to do with the blogosphere?

Excuse me, because I know I’m reprising a theme here that I’ve already discussed on more than one occasion. However, permit me to point out the obvious that a conversation cannot occur if more than one person isn’t talking. If one person is speaking (or writing) and everyone else is simply listening (or reading), then that is public address, not conversation. When we “consume” media, we read and watch and listen, and then repeat as necessary, feeling proud of all of the information and great art that we’ve taken in recently. But we haven’t stopped to really permit it to impact us. Talking with others is part of how it impacts us. The entire premise behind the Web 2.0 phenomenon was that this was media created and produced by everyone, not just professionals. In blogging (which was originally thought of as journaling), that involves two steps: reading someone’s thoughts, and then entering into conversation with that person (and others) by commenting. Otherwise, we’re missing part of what this whole thing is about.

In recent conversations with friends, I’ve compared this to an audience going to a play, and refusing to respond. Part of what makes a play such a powerful experience is that each performance is unique due to an unrepeatable synergy that occurs between the cast and the audience. Hopefully, the audience will cheer, cry, gasp, and ultimately applaud. Imagine, though, a play that received no audience reaction at all? Proverbial crickets chirping in the distance. Even an audience that booed would be preferable to that, because a silent audience brings an incomplete performance.

I would argue that the same is true of reading a book without discussing it with someone else during or after. Or, similarly, listening to music, seeing visual art…the list goes on. The important part of this process is the conversation, because that’s what makes it a complete event. Even when I don’t comment on other’s posts, I often end up discussing the ideas in that post with someone else. That’s better than silence.

Ironically, other social media platforms are experiencing similar losses of interactivity. How many “Twitter voyeurs” do you know that read what everyone else is saying without offering any words of their own? How many status updates do you actually comment on while perusing Facebook? In how many conversations do you participate on LinkedIn? We’re all to happy to watch everything go by us, somehow thinking we’re doing well to sit back and observe without actually contributing anything ourselves.

Certainly, not every post or video or update invites comment. Further, I’m not looking to place blame for this on one cultural phenomenon or the other, or to come across as whiny because I want people to comment here more (many of you do through one channel or another). The point is that we must, for the sake of ourselves and of our society, stop “consuming” media as we would any other product, because doing so cheapens it. When we “engage,” then everyone participating in the conversation is bettered by the dialogue.

That, I’m relatively certain, is the point.

Photo Attribution: gerlos

A Review of “Green Lantern”

In the interest of full disclaimer, I’ve always been more of a Marvel fan than a DC Universe fan. That fact notwithstanding, I played with Justice League action figures as a child, and developed an interest in the recent animated adventures of both the Justice League and Batman. The new Batgirl title has earned my affections, as well.

For the most part, however, I’m not nearly as knowledgeable regarding Green Lantern as I am about, for example, the X-Men.

Karen and I doubled with some friends this weekend to take in the new Green Lantern movie. I was secretly suspecting the worst after reading a less than favorable review, and I went in armed only with basic knowledge of the classic comic book hero: that he is inducted into an intergalactic corps of peacekeepers known as the Green Lantern Corps, that he is the guardian of Earth’s sector of space, and that he is deceptively powerful, as his ring transforms his will into energy, effectively creating any form that he can imagine. Green Lantern has always been one of the more original superheroes from the golden age of comics.

And, while I understand the previously mentioned negative review, Green Lantern performed well. This movie is worth your time.

The issue with condensing origin stories into the plot of a two hour film is that there’s never quite enough time, at least not if you’re going to tell anything other than the origin story (which, of course, must be done, otherwise the movie would be largely uninteresting to any but the most seasoned of nerds). Particularly difficult here was telling two histories: that of Hal Jordan, and that of the Green Lantern Corps (along with its arch-nemesis). Of course, this necessarily involves a love interest (it was the golden age of comics, after all!). All crammed into an average length movie, when the story could easily have been expanded to an epic-length film. The result is what we’ve frequently seen with origin stories for comic book film adaptations: stories that move too quickly, at the expense of character development. My primary complaint with Green Lantern was that it fell into this trap. Worse, it exacerbated the problem by cutting entirely too quickly between sub-plots, leaving the audience thinking that “there really should have been more to that…oh, wait, we’re back to this guy now…”

In short, Green Lantern suffered from a minor case of story arc whiplash.

Of course, there are the requisite corny one-liners that are inherent in comic book film adaptation, as mentioned in the negative review referenced above. Still, many viewers (and likely devoted Green Lantern fans) might find this nostalgic to the comic book’s pages, so this is a complaint based entirely on perspective.

Oh, and there’s that brief second in which we see a Lantern’s ring generate what appears to be replica of Captain America’s shield (Cap is a Marvel character), which leaves one frozen in disbelief. One cannot, as we know, cross the streams.

What’s interesting is what is symbolized in the myth of Green Lantern, and that is the evil power of fear (symbolized by the color yellow) that is overcome by the triumphant power of will (you guessed it, the color green). While portraying the basic meta-message that courage must win against fear for good to triumph, this also smacks interestingly (at least as the movie spins the tale) of American work ethic, a self-made, “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” mentality as Hal Jordan leaves the Corps’ good graces to fight for Earth himself, as the Guardians decide that this one planet does not merit the Corps’ attention during a crisis. Perhaps I’m reading too much into this telling of Green Lantern’s story, but it seems that the undertones are a bit didactic at times. Then again, I imagine many would argue that this is what makes a good superhero tale.

The story, however poorly cut at times, is complete, however. The visual effects are beautifully rendered, and the climactic action sequences paced just right: not so huge as to cause you sensory overload (as in Transformers), but still big enough to provide the requisite spectacle due a classic superhero. Green Lantern is not the best superhero adaptation I’ve seen from Hollywood this season (that title still rests with Thor), but its certainly a close second. Even if you’re only a DC hobbyist, as I am, instead of a devoted fan, you’ll enjoy this movie.

And I even bet you fight the urge to applaud when Jordan recites the oath of the Green Lantern Corps: “…Let all who worship evil’s might, beware my power, Green Lantern’s light!” You may or may not be successful in fighting that urge.

Image taken from the “Downloads” page of the official movie website

Feeling the Bite of Trends

Call me strange, but I just don’t get it.

It seems that, if I wanted to immediately write a book that would generate significant revenue, all I would need is a relatively sound plot arc and some vampires. See, if you involve vampires, you’re bound to sell copy after copy. Vampires are all the rage. On television, on film, in print. Even Abraham Lincoln hunted them, right?

When I was in high school, a friend recommended Anne Rice to me. I can’t remember if I borrowed or purchased Interview with the Vampire, but it captivated my attention. I found it one of those books that I couldn’t put down…something about the darkness of it seemed dangerous, perhaps wrong, and definitely irresistible. I had a poster in my bedroom with the book’s famous tag line.

I remember having a strange dream in which I woke to find the friend who had recommended the book to me, now a vampire herself, standing in my bedroom door, saying that I had touched the book and now something bad would happen. That was weird, but I didn’t put as much weight on those sorts of experiences then as I do now.

I moved on to The Vampire Lestat, and made it about halfway through the book. I stopped. I was squirming. There’s such a thing as too dark, and, for me, this was it. The word that I remember ringing through my head was “demonic.”

Now, I’m not here to preach against a sub-genre, or a type of character, or anything of the sort. I’m not pounding my fist and claiming that your eternal soul is at risk if you read vampire fiction. What I will say about my past experience is this: with the caveat that I didn’t have the literary analysis skills that I have now while I was in high school, those books, as disturbing as they were to me (even then, it took a lot to make me stop reading a book once I had started), was that at least Rice was good at her craft. While I wouldn’t re-read those books today, I respect her as a skilled writer.

And, I think, those two points about that high school experience encompasses my issue with the vampire craze in literature today. First, I have spiritual misgivings about these fictional creatures, and those misgivings were summarized much better than I could ever state by movie critic and author Jeffery Overstreet. He said (and I’m paraphrasing) that vampires in fiction represent individuals who are forever beyond redemption, and that this is why they are so terrifying, because they represent a lie. While we could debate that as a theological absolute, stop to consider the statement. It will cause gears to turn that haven’t turned before, I promise.

My other issue with the current craze is the issue of the literature being well-written. Rice’s books were crafted well, as was Stoker’s original novel. Compare this to Twilight, and I think you’ll find Twilight wanting. At the risk of mixing apples and oranges regarding different mediums, compare this to what appears on television and film with the current trend, which, ala True Blood, is essentially soft porn with a supernatural twist.

I’ll admit that I have an issue with jumping on bandwagons. I avoid most popular trends as though my life depended on it. I think I have good reason, here, however. I have friends whose reading assessments I respect defend Twilight as well-written. Assuming that their assessment is correct, I’ll still stand on my assertion that so much of the other vampire sub-genre offerings we see in print and on the screen are attempting to capitalize on the success of something that is arguably well-crafted, by adding the same type of genre spin onto something that isn’t well-crafted. That’s a sign of valuing profit over artistic substance. And that, my friends, isn’t cool.

These are all reasons for which I find vampire literature inherently suspect. Have you read any of the above, or something of which I’m not aware? Let me know…