Friday 12 June 2015

Tin Foil Dancers (or, The Day the Aliens Danced)

We were transfixed. The late afternoon sun glinted off their gossamer wings, and water drops from the nearby splash pad twinkled in the air, so that it appeared we were viewing them through a magical mist. They weren’t identical; some were in full body suits and some in little more than a bathing suit – but with the tin foil hats and liberally applied glitter, it came across as if each outfit had been carefully coordinated, perhaps for full effect during the dance.

The haunting sounds of their music drew us in, until it was almost painful to look away. Even dogs being walked through the park seemed as bewitched as their owners. It was a scene we’d never witnessed before, and were not likely to do so again. It somehow seemed important to imprint every moment into our memories; the sights, the sounds, the sorcery. Yes, we were indeed transfixed.

So transfixed, that not one of us thought to take a photo.

It was late August, 2014. My friend and I were entertaining some visitors from the USA and from elsewhere in Ontario. We had taken them down to Toronto’s waterfront to enjoy the warm sunshine and fresh breeze off the lake as we strolled along the boardwalk.

We happened across a location shoot for the TV show “Beauty and the Beast”, and settled in for a while to watch the proceedings. Although most of the filming was taking place inside a nearby building, there was some set up occurring outside for a later sequence. At this point my friend had to leave for a while to attend to a family matter, but we were having such a pleasant day that the rest of us said we’d simply stay in the area to await her return.

Wandering down to a small public park across from the building, we sat on benches under a little grove of trees, content to pass the time by chatting and watching kids play in the cooling water of the park’s splash pad.

And then…it began.

We saw a gathering of people – perhaps 15 or so, adult men and women – at the far end of the splash pad. They’d arrived almost unnoticed…as if they had simply appeared out of thin air. They were dressed oddly:  in mismatched shiny body suits, leotards, and bathing suits; skin sparkling with glitter, or perhaps it was some sort of body paint. Many of them had what could only be called wings, made out of a delicate, filmy material attached to their clothing. (Or maybe…coming through their clothing?)

One of their party was standing on a ledge with a large portable music player, seemingly in charge; directing them to stand in different places as he started the music. For half a second we wondered if they were part of the TV shoot…but it was quickly apparent that wasn’t the case; the nearby crew looked as confused by the spectacle as we were. As was everyone else in the area: even hurried passersby stopped to look, gaping in fascination.

So the next logical assumption was that it was some sort of rehearsal for a dance troupe or performance art group. No doubt that’s what many of the others around us thought.

But we knew the truth:  Aliens.

You see, most of the dancers were wearing full or partial helmets made out of tin foil (or what appeared to our human eyes to be tin foil), crudely constructed in a fashion which clashed garishly with the delicacy of the costumes. Yes, yes I know – tin foil headwear is supposed to be worn by humans to prevent aliens from reading their thoughts, not the other way around. But there’s nothing to say it couldn’t work in reverse. Maybe it even allowed them to create one giant hive-mind…the result of which was this strange, yet alluring dance: at first glance, they didn’t even seem to be interacting; each one weaving and undulating with no apparent correlation to each other or the music. Arms and legs were raised and lowered in precise, slow moves. Wings appeared to move on their own, shimmering and alive.

The music was peculiar, and didn’t sound the slightest bit Earthly. (I’m sure this had nothing to do with the fact we could only hear bits and pieces of it above the sounds of the film crew and the busy nearby road.)

I texted my friend and told her to bring some tin foil back with her, just in case they intended to invade the planet – it might allow us to blend in. She thought we were kidding, then just our usual brand of crazy. (In any case, she didn’t bring it.)

The group themselves seemed completely oblivious to the stir they were causing. I have no idea how long it lasted; we honestly lost track of time, such was their hold over us.

Eventually the aliens began to disperse, without invading or – to our knowledge – taking over our bodies. That was when we realised that between the five of us, all armed to the teeth with smartphones and cameras, nobody had thought to take a photo.  Not even one. Obviously this was a result of the alien influence.

So we had nothing with which to prove our story.  Nothing to convince others that we weren’t crazy. Nothing to remind us how close we’d been to ET.

Or perhaps, we all just had mild sunstroke & extremely overactive imaginations. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

This really did happen.  Yes, I told the tale somewhat tongue-in-cheek…but I promise I did not make any of it up or embellish either their appearance or the effect they had on anyone who saw them. (Although I admit to a slight bit of speculation when it comes to the alien connection… )
I spent ages over the ensuing days, Googling every description I could think of, and checking umpteen websites about local summer entertainment near the waterfront…or anywhere in the city for that matter; determined to figure out who or what group they might have been. I didn’t find a thing. 
Since those of us who were there have been making silly references to ‘Tin Foil Dancers’ on social media over the past months and completely confusing others, I decided it was time to write it all down.  Thank you for indulging me!

Thursday 4 June 2015

"Listen" - A Doctor Who episode review

I originally wrote the following – a review of the 2014 Doctor Who episode “Listen” – some months ago for the Doctor Who fan-run magazine Enlightenment. However it was never published, as after 30+ years (second only to the official ‘Doctor Who Magazine’ itself), the publication is now on indefinite hiatus. I’ve been very proud to be associated with Enlightenment over the past few years, contributing various episode reviews and opinion pieces, and hope to see it back again soon.
In the meantime, rather than have this piece sitting unread on a shelf in cyberspace, I decided to post it here.

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DOCTOR WHO: Listen

Starring:  Peter Capaldi, Jenna-Louise Coleman, Samuel Anderson
Written By:  Steven Moffat
Directed by:  Douglas Mackinnon
Broadcast Date: 13 September, 2014

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“Listen.”

From his perch atop the TARDIS, high above the Earth, the Doctor issues a command. And listen, we do. Like a professor giving a lecture, he delivers a burst of exposition to explain the premise of the episode - his theory of “perfect hiding”. He doesn't quite break the fourth wall, but it's close enough that we are instantly drawn in, focussed on what he says, eager to find out more.

Add the visuals of him observing life & death on an African plain, or facing down a fish underwater - and it becomes one of the most interesting WHO openings in recent history. And once Clara is retrieved, the Doctor continues:

"I think everybody, at some point in their lives, has the exact same nightmare: you wake up - or you think you do - and there's someone in the dark, someone close. Or you think there might be. So you sit up, and you turn on the light; and the room looks different at night. It ticks, it creaks, it breathes; and you tell yourself there's nobody there, nobody watching, nobody listening...nobody there at all. And you very nearly believe it. You really, really try. And then... (on-screen, a hand reaches out from under the bed & grabs an ankle)."

I don’t know about you, but that’s when it had me. Child or adult, we all have things that terrify us, secretly or maybe not so much; even at my age I can't comfortably go to sleep with the closet door open. As the Doctor says, there's not a man, woman or child on the planet - or beyond - who can't relate to some version of that dream. Only a few minutes into the episode, and I’ve already been grabbed (quite literally!) by the need to find out what it means. And yes, I’m also feeling the fear; that “prickling at the back of your neck”. After all, even though it’s fiction, ‘just a TV show’ - the possibility of maybe...just maybe...getting some kind of explanation for a fear deep-rooted in humanity as long as we’ve been around - well, it’s certainly intriguing. If nothing else, a brilliant way to draw in the audience from the start. Kudos also have to go to Peter Capaldi for making it work - his delivery of Steven Moffat’s words was flawless, and exactly in keeping with what we had learned so far about this Doctor.

Forget for a moment any complaints about Steven Moffat bloating DOCTOR WHO with over-convoluted, unresolved stories. Listen is a return to what he does best: a (more-or-less) stand-alone story that highlights some form of fear – fear of the unknown, or perhaps of common things not behaving as they ‘should’. Fear of shadows, what lurks in the dark, fear of that ‘thing’ under the bed…or in my closet. What’s great about this episode is that it isn't necessarily an alien threat, or technology gone wrong, or some maniacal person trying to take over the world; this ‘enemy’ is simple fear, arguably more dangerous throughout the history of humanity than all the other things put together.

Moffat has called it ‘Perfect Hiding’. And it kind of makes sense. Not only is it a fascinating theory, but the idea of a creature - an undetectable SOMETHING - with us all the time is absolutely terrifying, if you come right down to it. Assuming for a moment that it's actually possible (because...well...because nothing’s impossible, at least in the DOCTOR WHO world, and besides, there’s no proof it’s not), maybe it explains why your keys are never where you know you left them? Or how about ‘invisible friends’? The Doctor says the creature might only be seen by the very old and very young; so maybe some children detect this presence and turn their fright into something positive that they can accept. Perhaps that's all the presence really wants...perhaps it's not threatening after all, just lonely.

On the other hand, the Doctor also says that maybe the reason we talk out loud with nobody there, is because subconsciously we know someone IS there. Well, I talk to myself on occasion...so the idea that I'm actually talking to someone - or some thing - is somehow equally appealing (“See Mum, I’m not crazy!”), and frightening (“Yep okay, then there is something in my closet and I’m sleeping in the living room tonight. With the TV on.”)

Anyway…

Not only did Listen draw on the best of Moffat, there were also elements that had heavy reminders of non-Moffat episodes. For example, two from Russell T Davies: Midnight (in my opinion still one of the best of the new series), and Utopia. I felt a definite parallel to Midnight, with the noises and knocking from outside Orson’s spaceship when there's supposedly nothing there, and of course the unease that episode engendered. And then, that place; the "end of the road""the end of everything" as the Doctor called it. Was it purposely the same place the Tenth Doctor, Martha & Jack went to in Utopia? Both times the TARDIS wasn't supposed to go that far...

This was also the second time DW made me dread mirrors. Paul Cornell’s Family of Blood has had me thinking I see something out of the corner of my eye for several years, and now Listen has managed to make the apprehension worse - by having the Doctor recite an almost identical line from a creepy little nursery rhyme "What's that, in the mirror, out of the corner of your eye...”Thanks Steven. Thanks a lot.

With regard to the rest of the storyline, Listen was the proper start of the Clara/Danny season arc. Seeing the beginning of their relationship was interesting. While rewatching the episode to write this review, I was reminded of my initial feelings about Danny and what made me curious and want to see more of him (I would regret that later in the series). And at this point, I was starting to like Clara again, I hadn’t been overly thrilled during her time with Matt Smith, except for The Snowmen & Asylum of the Daleks - neither of which were this Clara. But, I’d enjoyed her previous few episodes with Peter Capaldi, and was keeping an open mind. I empathised with her attempts to connect with Danny at dinner, and found it interesting that she was trying very hard to keep her ‘real’ life secret from the Doctor. Was it just because she was still learning to trust him? Did she feel guilty, or even think he’d be jealous? I had a theory that Danny was not all as he seemed, and although now we know what his secret was, back then I thought perhaps he was an alien soldier villain - planted (perhaps unknowingly) on Earth to get to the Doctor through Clara - in a storyline somehow related to this Doctor’s obvious dislike for soldiers. The way he was trying so hard to win Clara over one minute, then being extremely unlikeable and accusatory the next, was, I thought, suspicious and cruel.

However, Danny’s past and future selves - the child Rupert and his descendant Orson, were both well-executed, likeable characters. As was Clara in how she interacted with them both, and with the Doctor throughout the episode. Yes, I said it. I liked Clara.

The scenes with Rupert were very well thought out - especially when he and Clara were hiding under the bed and the 'presence' was suddenly ON the bed. Brilliant turnaround of an age-old fear, and quite simply - terrifying.

The same was true when Clara, Rupert and the Doctor are standing in front of the window, refusing to turn around to look at the ‘thing’ now looming behind them...and then the bedspread slips off. I honestly have trouble watching that. We can’t quite see it, they can’t quite see it - but there IS something there; something not...quite...human. (And as if I wasn’t already creeped out enough at this point, Moffat just had to add more to my mirror-phobia with lines like "Don't look at the reflection," and "...the thing that must never be seen".)

At first I was surprised the Doctor seemed just as disconcerted as Clara and Rupert - he didn’t stand his ground or turn around and face the creature; pull the bedspread off and see what was there. And yet later on in Orson’s ship, that’s exactly what he wanted to do. I think the answer came at the end, when Clara finds herself in the barn, soothing the Doctor as a boy. At that moment - and with the flashbacks to the War Doctor and events from Day of the Doctor - we realise that in trying to help him, she is/was the one actually who implanted the fear - the dream - in the Doctor’s psyche. It was her hand that gripped his ankle, her voice that told him “fear is a super-power” - almost the same words he’d tell Rupert, all those many years later. I was not initially sure why the TARDIS would take them back to the Doctor’s past, when it was Clara ‘plugged in’ to the interface...but I suppose it was her past or her future too, in a paradoxical way.

Of course, this all feeds back into last season’s arc (which I abhorred) of Clara being the ‘Impossible Girl’; present in some way in every part of every Doctor’s life. So I shouldn’t have liked that scene...but I did. It worked for this episode. As long as Moffat isn’t trying to say that the dream somehow became pervasive throughout the universe because of the Doctor - making Clara ultimately the one responsible for that fear in every one of us - I’m good with it.
 
However I do have an issue with Clara leaving the gunless soldier toy with the boy-Doctor. If the Doctor had it as a child a thousand years ago, it’s a bit coincidental that it ended up at the orphanage where Rupert lived. I know...timey-wimey…

It was also a pity that The Doctor never got a chance to say what - if anything - he saw, even cryptically. Clara shut him down. Perhaps that’s just the scared child in me, still wanting that explanation but unwilling to admit there isn’t one.

Later in the season, in In the Forest of the Night, the Doctor says "the forest is in all the stories that kept you awake at night; the forest is mankind's nightmare". Upon hearing this, I was instantly brought back to Listen and my first thought was “...make up your mind what the ever-pervasive nightmare is, please!”

I know different writers were involved, but that’s precisely the sort of thing the showrunner should have caught, in my opinion. An entire episode was dedicated to the single nightmare that supposedly unites everyone, and yet a few episodes later - something else is the culprit.

Of course, that’s not a criticism of Listen, at all. I felt this episode was one of the bright spots in a rather unremarkable season. In fact, I’d put this up against almost any of the episodes in the new era - compelling story, good character development (especially for our still-new Doctor) and excellent performances all around. It was an absolute pleasure to watch...even if it again has me seeing things and hearing noises that really aren’t there.

Probably.

Monday 1 June 2015

Thank You for Season 1, Outlander

Outlander had its Season 1 finale this past weekend, an incredibly brave episode with mind-blowing performances all 'round.

It's been lovely to see the positive critical & fan reaction, which only seemed to become more prevalent as the season went on. Deservedly so.

When I originally heard they were making the series, I'd hoped it would at least be watchable & if I was really lucky, maybe even enjoyable. But I honestly never expected it to be SO well done.

I've truly fallen in love with the series...as well as the books, all over again!
It'll likely be abt 10 mths or so before it's back on our TVs, but it's good to know they're already hard at work on Season 2. 😃

Bravo & Thank You to Sam Heughan, Caitriona Balfe, Ron Moore, & the entire cast, crew & production team...And of course to Diana Gabaldon, who started it all.

Wednesday 20 May 2015

Bye bye Tumblr...I shall not miss you!

Up until a few days ago, you would have been reading this on Tumblr (go with me here, since obviously I wouldn’t have written it if I was still using Tumblr).

When I started this blog-thing last year, in addition to some longer pieces about specific topics, I envisioned dashing off a few thoughts every now and then on my tablet or phone; if for no other reason than to have an outlet for the never ending clutter that goes through my brain. I do actually do some ‘real’ writing in other parts of my life, but otherwise I am constantly ‘writing’ in my head: random sentences; rebuttals; rants; commentaries on things happening around me; or opening paragraphs of sci-fi stories prompted by strange beings on the subway…you get the idea.

Well, that obviously hasn’t happened. I mean, sure, I’ve written and published a few things on the blog; some I’m pleased with and some I would probably be better off deleting, but my output has been minimal at best. I haven’t even bothered for 3 months now! (Actually, that’s not quite true, I have several incomplete entries I just haven’t gotten around to finishing, for various reasons.)

Anyway, there are two main reasons for the lack of productivity that I can directly point the finger at…and the first is me. Brevity has never been my strong suit, so trying to “dash off a few thoughts” is not, for lack of a better term, ‘my thing’.  I usually start with an idea that I intend to write just a handful of paragraphs about. The next thing I know I'm spending hours on the laptop, as it’s ballooned into a thesis-like-monster involving research and re-writes, threatening to eventually rival a Game of Thrones or Outlander novel in length. If I’m lucky, the subject matter is still relevant…if not, it joins the collection of unfinished pieces.

But I’m working on it, I really am!  (Mind you, looking at this so far...hmmm.)

The second reason is Tumblr itself. I am finally ready to admit defeat and say: “I DON’T GET IT!!!” (I really don’t like it either, although I imagine those two things are somewhat related.)

I initially used Tumblr because I had some friends who used it for blogs, they insisted it was easy as pie, and besides, I already had an account set up. Not that I’d ever done anything there.

Well.  So much for that. I’ve now switched to Blogger.

I now realise - contrary to their claims - Tumblr is not designed for simple text blogs. And I’m probably missing the point, but I really don’t see much use for it other than to post endless GIFs and photos of whoever your page is dedicated to. I know many people do successfully create and maintain blogs in Tumblr, but it seems you can’t DO anything with them except click on a heart or ‘reblog’. That’s nice, I suppose. Pretty to look at and all that. But you can’t engage in any discussions – should you wish to – unless you install third party Disqus (making the whole thing more complicated than I want to deal with), or open up the ‘Ask’ feature – which is ridiculously convoluted, not ‘allowed’ everywhere, and still doesn’t really permit proper back and forth conversations.

Blogger has built in commenting. Done.

However the biggest frustration was Tumblr thinking I’m a programmer who would be thrilled to use archaic HTML to create posts on a mobile device…ah…no thank you! I haven’t used HTML for years, and was never all that proficient with it...other than creating italics or new paragraphs, I was having to Google for the formats. What a waste of time. So I thought I’d be clever and create my blogs in another application to copy into Tumblr. Haha on them. Except the joke was on me: all my formatting would completely disappear once I pasted it in.

On the other hand, Blogger not only provides basic formatting tools even in the mobile app version, it retains your existing formats if you paste something from another source. Or, I can easily open up Blogger on my mobile browser instead of in the app, set it to the desktop version – and voila…a lovely, normal complete formatting toolbar is right there.(Theoretically you can do the same with Tumblr, but their desktop version never opened properly for me on a phone or tablet, scrolling and zooming weirdly until I gave up in frustration. Frankly, I could never even get it working the way I'd be comfortable with on a PC either.)

And finally – this is the best – Blogger automatically saves your draft in real-time from the moment you start typing. Tumblr, meanwhile, will happily let you lose all your work if you manage to hit the wrong combination of keys…after forgetting to manually save your draft every few minutes. Yes, I have done this, on more than one occasion. I was not a pleasant person to be around at those times.

So…decision made, existing blog entries imported here to Blogger. Even doing that turned out to be much easier than I anticipated.

I’m sure a bucketload of people will tell me I was doing everything wrong, but it matters not.  I’m with Blogger now – and I feel FREE! Ready to let the words flow onto the page!
(Yes, you may laugh at me.)

Whether or not this means I’ll actually post more often, or whether I'll be regaling you with tales of aliens on public transit...well, only time will tell!

Wednesday 18 February 2015

The Music In My Head

I have a very strange brain. At least, I’ve accepted that I must do (and I’m sure various friends, family members and co-workers would heartily agree). I know that everyone says they sometimes have a song stuck in their head; usually that dreaded snippet that plays over and over and over and over and over and over again. And again. And just when you think it’s gone:  again and again and again, until you’re mentally screaming in agony.

But I’m pretty sure I’m worse: I’m never without a song in my head.

Because I research to death anything and everything that sparks my interest, I Googled it…discovering endless pages of studies and articles and theories about the ‘earworm’. Yes, apparently that’s the scientific term – quite appropriate I’d say. Right up there with tapeworms and other assorted parasites.

Skimming over a few entries, I found them to be quite repetitive – just like the subject matter – and most of them rather unhelpfully concluded that it’s a result of brain neurons getting “stuck” on a particular “repeating loop”. That sounds to me more like a symptom than a cause, but hey, I’m not a scientist…

And besides, in my head it’s usually more than just a snippet of a song. No, I am usually blessed with the whole entire thing on endless repeat, full orchestral  effects and back-up singers; the whole shebang, although some sections do tend to repeat more than others. It can get noisy in there.

Several articles did touch on how music in some form has been a fundamental part of human evolution: it’s accepted that the part of our brain which responds to music, developed long before the part that responds to language. I suppose that means that it comes from a less evolved, less complex part of our psyche. That makes sense to me:  who hasn’t been moved to the core by a deep base line or rhythmic drum beat; reacting to and with it before you even know what the actual song is? It’s ingrained in us, we can’t help but feel it. So it’s not surprising that music pops into our heads at the strangest times – for some of us, it’s as autonomous as breathing.

Reading on, I found this quote from a 2012 ‘The Telegraph’ article by Rosa Silverman quite interesting:  “Word memory association, situations of stress, a wandering mind and altered emotional states can all be blamed for the phenomenon, psychologist Dr Lauren Stewart said.”
Well, apparently I’m a victim of at least one or more of these mostly dubious circumstances at all times – because I literally do have at least one or more songs stuck in my head at all times. Oh dear.
For added fun, I also seem to have certain “go-to” songs that my brain likes to bring forth under certain circumstances. 

For instance:  The German National Anthem.  Yes, I said the German National Anthem…and no, I am not German, I’m British & Canadian. But that anthem pops up frequently when I’m doing something like taking a brisk walk, or when something isn’t working and I’m determined to fix it. This has been happening for years, and was actually really bothering me…because It Made No Sense.
Until one day, I figured it out: F1 Racing. You see, I enjoy watching Formula 1 and have for a long time. And there were many years when Michael Schumacher won ALL the time.  Therefore…they’d play the German National Anthem ALL the time. So I assume my silly brain associated that with a sort of “Winning!”; conquering hero mentality. At least, I hope so, because otherwise I’m apparently a closet, very nationalistic German. (I have been to Germany, I liked it a lot, but…)

Anyway, I also get “Let It Snow” – which thankfully does make sense:  when it snows, I hear it. Always…although it sometimes segues into “Silver Bells”, but I’m okay with that.
“Jingle Bells” is somewhat more perplexing. I tend to not only hear, but sing that one - and not always just to myself! – whenever I get impatient. And once it’s there, it’s there for the long haul. Usually I’m in a silly mood too, but it happens at any time of year, not just Christmas or even winter…and yes, I’m used to being laughed at for it. Anyway, I’ve racked my brain on that one and can’t come up with any reason, logical or otherwise. So I’m open to suggestions!

For most of us, there are the familiar songs that suddenly appear out of nowhere in your mind, bringing along random (or sometimes expected) memories: for me if Bowie’s Rebel Rebel starts mentally playing, I’m right back in an arena during his Reality Tour (it was the show opener…and I saw 17 of them!) Sometimes it’s not an actual memory; rather it’s as if the song transports you to a certain place or time, whether you've been there or not. Lately I’ve had snippets from the Outlander TV soundtrack in my head quite frequently…and when that happens, I can almost instantly be transported to a beautiful Scottish landscape in another century, rolling hills and all. This is especially nice if it happens on a crowded subway commute. And for some lovely reason, it’s never raining…I guess that’s proof it’s definitely my imagination...

Often I can put my finger on what triggered the specific song and memory or thought – might be as simple as an advert on TV, or a comment made by a co-worker. Sometimes I can’t. But it’s always fascinating to try and figure it out – and to wonder how many more moments are stored away, to be rediscovered when the right piece of music decides to make an appearance.

I mentioned having more than one song in my head at a time…this is when it starts to get annoying. Usually the combinations sort of make sense; current or favourite songs, with similar lines or riffs so they ‘go’ together. But sometimes it’s just plain weird. Imagine the “Star Wars” theme (‘sung’ by Bill Murray – yes, from old SNL skits) meshing with both Frank Sinatra’s version of “My Way”, and the theme from “Love Boat”. This mashup from hell has been in my head on more than one occasion – with no obvious trigger. These are the times I start to worry about myself.

In the same “Telegraph” article I mentioned above, the quoted psychologist says: “Annoying as earworms are, it is possible they might have a greater function than to drive us mad. It’s interesting to us to think about whether earworms might have a role to play. Are they just a by-product of the brain’s resting state or is something more interesting going on

Well, I really hope there is something more to it. This blog was triggered by having “Spaceship Superstar” (a 1977 song by Canadian band Prism) in my head since Monday. It is now Wednesday, and I AM going slightly mad. I know where it came from; I downloaded a favourite film on Monday which uses this song over the closing credits - but geez, after three days you’d think my brain would come up with something else. I’ve tried listening to the whole thing multiple times to get rid of it. Nope. Tried listening to loud Bowie, to jazz, to 80’s dance tracks, the Outlander soundtrack – but as soon as I turn that music off, Prism is back. I can be super-busy at work; enjoying a TV show in the evening; talking to a friend in person or on the phone; reading a book on the subway…but ”Spaceship Superstar” is still with me. I’d hate to think it had no purpose.

Unless of course, that purpose is to drive one mad.

On the other hand, music – even if just ‘in the head" - has been shown to release the brain chemical dopamine. Yes indeed - the very same chemical as does sex or good food. So in that case:  Bring It On!

Friday 13 February 2015

It's COLD!!!

It’s cold outside. Like really, really cold. Arctic, wearing-so-many-clothes-you-don’t-care-what-you-look-like cold. Coming to work this morning it was -25C, with a windchill of -32C (that’s -26F for my American friends). But that’s not the worst: by Sunday the windchills are supposed to be around -40C (which is actually also -40F…because temperature conversion is weird)
We are under various alerts and warnings, and have been advised that these windchills can cause frostbite to begin on exposed skin in as little as 10 minutes. The weatherman on TV said last night that Environment Canada is officially giving meteorologists the okay to call this spell a ‘Polar Vortex’. How nice of them. You remember the Polar Vortex, that thing we had last year that froze half of Canada and the Eastern US; and pushed the arrival of spring back a good month or so? Well it’s back…or never really went away. Great. And to top things off, the current forecast is for temps to stay below freezing for the entire month of February – which hasn’t happened in Toronto since 1978 (actually, we haven’t been above 0C/32F since Jan 24th). That’s NOT normal for this city, even in the dead of winter.

Everything is upside down. Out west in southern Alberta – which should usually be closer to the temps we’re currently getting; they’re expecting highs in the teens Celsius today. That’s ABOVE zero. That’s in the 50’s Fahrenheit. Sigh…something is very wrong with this picture. So while the Calgarians sunbathe and play beach volleyball (well they would if they had a beach), those of us in the East are anticipating the arrival of another Ice Age (no, that’s not a scientific observation, just mine).

With that in mind, I’ve put together a selection of the inevitable snow and ice themed news and entertainment we can expect; as Toronto disappears under a glacier for the next several thousand years:

‘Icepocalypse –a Love Story’
'Today on Breakfast Television: How to Permafrost-proof your house’
'Glacial Epoch 5 – Mammoths Reborn!’
'Ice-Quakes – Can We Predict Them?’
'Abominable Snowman or Yeti…what do they really want to be called?’
'Godzilla vs. Mega-Penguin’
'Is Jack Frost the new Superhero?’
Hollywood’s hot new pet: Genetically-engineered mini Polar Bears
'The Little Avalanche That Grew’
'Canada Goose coats displace gold as the new monetary standard’


Should any of those actually see the light of day, please contact me and I’ll advise where to send my royalty cheques.

Anyway…as I said, it’s cold. The type of cold that you simply can’t explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced it firsthand. And although I’m certainly not a fan of it, I do get that, well, it’s winter. In Canada. So there’s not a whole hell of a lot I can do about it.

Besides, better to bundle up against extreme windchills than deal with snow, I say. Snow is all very pretty to look at – preferably through a window while you’re nursing a dram beside a roaring fire – and yes, it's helpful for skiers, but in the city it’s rather nasty to function in. They toss road salt with ridiculous abandon to clear sidewalks and roadways, leaving a horrible, dirty, wet, soupy, chemical mess that ruins footwear and the bottoms of your jeans. When it’s too cold for the salt to work (although they keep throwing it down), you instead skate precariously over now super-slippery, solidly-frozen, greyish snow-soup. This results in really fun activities like falling over and breaking your elbow…yes, I speak from experience. Recent experience. (“Could’ve been worse…could’ve been worse…” - that’s become my mantra!)

But now it’s lunchtime, the sun is actually shining (something else we’ve been lacking this winter), the sidewalks are relatively clear before the next snowfall expected tonight and the complete deepfreeze over the weekend. I’m bundling up, and going out for a walk while I can…after all, I’ve got this #MyPeakChallenge to keep up with, and fitness & fresh air is always good - what could go wrong?!

Of course, it IS Friday the 13th….



Toronto, 15 Feb 2015

Sunday 23 November 2014

FOR THE LOVE OF OUTLANDER...

FOR THE LOVE OF OUTLANDER…

…because that’s what you’ll need to get through this. It’s gonna be long. Verra, verra long (I’m not kidding…it’s ended up being more like a thesis, and there aren’t any pretty pictures taking up space either). Get popcorn – or a double shot, if it suits. (Actually, you might as well grab the whole bottle.)

And - for any non-book-readers or those who haven’t yet watched…herein there be spoilers!

I didn’t intend to wait months before blogging my thoughts about the first half of Outlander Season 1, but here we are. In fact much of it has been written for weeks on my phone - mostly as disjointed sentences or ideas, added to and expanded upon as the thoughts crossed my mind…on the subway, during work meetings, while doing dishes…

As I put this together, I realised most of the focus is on particular aspects of episodes 7 and 8, and the characters/lead actors. So except for a couple of other comments at the start, I’m going with that. Trust me; this would be longer than an Outlander novel if I left in everything that was in my notes!

So:
  • It amazed me how difficult it was to actually see vs. read about the flogging (The Garrison Commander)…which then struck me as a parallel to what Jamie had explained about not wanting people to see his back; it’s okay for them to know, but seeing would make them think about him differently. I re-read the scenes in the book (told there by Dougal instead of BJR), and this time had a much more intense feeling about it than I’d had for the past twenty years - I suppose because I was now picturing it in Technicolour horror, with a real face attached. By no means does this belittle what author Diana Gabaldon wrote, rather it highlights the incredible work of the prosthetics team and entire crew, and especially the actors who brought it to life.
  • I may have missed something obvious - but how do the non-book-readers know that Jamie is a Laird? Were they confused when (Both Sides Now) he called Claire “Lady Lallybroch”? In the book, it was part of the explanation Jamie gave her about his family on the wedding night - so I initially assumed that in the series it had still been said, just not shown. But then it occurred to me that non-book-readers weren’t to have known. Perhaps something that explained it was edited from the final cut of another episode?
  • The ‘not knowing his name’ thing (The Wedding). Yes - a beloved part of the book, and definitely belonged in the episode. However, at the end of the previous episode, Claire is staring morosely at the marriage contract - which very prominently reads “James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser”. In the book she never really has a chance to ‘be alone’ with the contract; the front page supposedly just said “Marriage Contract” and she simply signed where she was told, so it’s easy to assume she didn’t even see his name…but in the show it’s right there. Jumping off the screen. I’m probably overthinking it; perhaps she was too distraught to notice. Or more likely - too hung-over at the ceremony to remember. If this has already been addressed in a tweet or interview I missed, or podcast I’ve not yet gotten to…please let me know!
I learned recently from a Diana Gabaldon tweet that the original translation into German (and also Spanish; maybe others as well?) had cut approximately a quarter (!!!) of the book. I found that very interesting, it made me wonder if not only scenes had been cut, but perhaps meanings, backstories etc. had been changed (knowingly or unknowingly) due to editing and translation. It’s already a given that even those who read in the original English often have different interpretations of the same thing…now it makes sense that some of those who read Outlander in a different language may find the onscreen version differing even further from their imagined view.

A small segment of viewers have complained about differences from the book. I have absolutely no issue with changing, deleting or adding things, as long as it makes sense for the story and characters. Obviously they can’t put everything in the show, and some things work better if they are changed to accommodate a visual medium. Other differences, such as the new storyline with the early introduction of Father Bain (The Way Out) are cleverly paving the way for events in the second half of the season. The explanations given for the changes by the production team make perfect sense - and as much as I love seeing favourite scenes come to life, it’s also exciting to have something new or unforeseen thrown into the mix, or given to us at an unexpected time.

This brings me to - as if enough hasn’t already been written about it - The Wedding. Done a bit differently from the book, but depicted so cleverly through humourous flashbacks and storytelling. Whether it was one or all of the writing/production team who came up with this structure, it was genius; allowing us to experience everything along with the characters, without having all the ‘sex scenes’ thrown together at once. After all - as perfectly as the pages and pages of Jamie & Claire wedding night dialogue flowed in the book, it would’ve crashed and burned for all but diehard fans if done that way on screen. Even with Sam and Cait saying the words!

But although the format was changed, the basic content was intact. All those wonderful scenes and words that some of us have waited decades to have brought to life.

It. Was. Beautiful.

(I encourage everyone to sigh deeply and smile knowingly along with me.)

Everywhere from mainstream press to fan blogs, much has been said about the ground-breaking depiction of sexuality on television and how this, for one of the first times on TV, catered very specifically to what a (straight) female would like to see. I would actually take that a step further: the scenes were written, staged, performed and edited in a manner to please all of the audience - female, male, straight, gay - everyone was well served. However, as one of those aforementioned females, I won’t deny that I felt like ‘we’ were getting more. It seemed as though Outlander was shouting from the rooftops (on our behalf) that yes, a man’s body is equally as appealing as a woman’s - and this show was willing to give it equal time. Perhaps even more time, at least it certainly felt that way. In actual fact we probably saw just as much of Claire as we did Jamie - but the difference is that we’re so used to seeing naked women running around the screen, that we’re probably a bit immune to it.

What I’m certainly not immune to is Jamie’s “…fine ass”, as so eloquently described by Diana Gabaldon. This comment - initially made at a fan/press event in New York last July - took on a life of its own, and ramped up anticipation of the episode to sometimes crazy levels. It didn’t help that both Diana and Jamie’s portrayer Sam Heughan devilishly continued to fuel the fire in interviews and on Twitter during the intervening months. Remember at that point we had NO idea how Outlander was actually going to handle the episode. We’d more-or-less had a confirmation of male ‘nudity’ - but what exactly? Yes, it was Starz, and yes, showrunner Ron Moore kept saying “if it’s in the book…”, but most of us figured anything on the Jamie side would be a fleeting glimpse, about the same afforded to men on any other cable show. (It seemed to be expected that Claire would be bare as the day she was born, as there was next to no chatter about her state of (un)dress…again exemplifying what we’ve come to accept as the norm.)

And those of us in other countries also weren’t sure how much we would or wouldn’t see, regardless of what Starz aired. I have to give full props to Showcase in Canada for airing the episode content in its entirety and unedited for the nighttime viewings - content that I guarantee must have knocked loudly on the ceiling of their censorship limits.

So, yes indeed: it turned out to be much more than a fleeting glimpse…for Claire and for us!

And as expected, that threw the fandom into a tizzy. Of course there were endless gifs, screenshots, amusing memes and ribald comments making the rounds of social media. Then a few people started to take issue by way of tweets or blogs: apparently we were wrong to objectify the male form - because, they said, it wouldn’t be acceptable the other way around. Well okay, yes…in an entirely different situation that would be true. But here it’s not that black and white. Jamie Fraser is a fictional character - created, as are all fictional characters - purely for our interest and entertainment, whether on the page or the screen. There is nothing wrong with this, or at least there shouldn’t be - as long as it’s within the law and not done with malice. (I’m not going into religious, cultural, or other moral, personal objections.)

After all, Claire pretty much objectified Jamie when she ‘looked’ at him (as did he with her)…why should it be any different for the viewer to have the same reaction? And Diana was right; he does have a verra nice arse! Definitely worth more than a brief glance, along with the rest of him. No doubt those who take pleasure in the female body were enjoying Claire in just the same, harmless way.The majority of the fandom was simply using humour to appreciate what Jamie had to offer - and what Sam Heughan has worked hard to maintain. This reaction was exactly what the production team and actors were already fully aware was going to happen - and indeed had been encouraging through their teases in interviews and on social media.

And they continue to do so:  recently - around Hallowe’en - the real life owner of the aforementioned arse (in an ongoing twitter conversation with Diana Gabaldon about his and Jamie’s ‘buns’) told the Twitterverse that it “….tastes like pumpkin”. The buns? Or all of him, or…well, I’ll leave it there. Ahem.

Make no mistake. This is a man who - when he makes these sorts of comments, a clever mix of innocence and innuendo - usually knows exactly what he’s saying, how it is likely to be interpreted and what kind of reaction he’ll get. He’s found himself in a unique situation, figured out for himself how to deal with it (which can’t be easy!), and has chosen to remain down-to-earth and have fun with it - which therefore allows us viewers to do the same.
Sam Heughan is a publicist’s dream with his social media-savvy, and acceptance of/attention to, the fandom - both when sanctioned by the network and
on his own. In fact pretty much everyone connected with the production is the same way. Starz got very lucky!

As for the actual ‘sex’ - as said it’s been generally agreed by media and the viewing public that what was shown on screen was very rare for television…and believe me, another thing I’m certainly not immune to is the raw attraction of those scenes. But the build-up was just as satisfying. The wedding itself; that moment Jamie sees Claire in her dress, the vows, the kiss. And later, the undressing, the gentle touches, the eye contact, the breathing; all equally if not more ‘sexy’ than the acts themselves. (Yes, even the ‘heavy breathing’ was perfect. It’s something so incredibly arousing when done right, but which is usually either ridiculously overdone - or forgotten/removed entirely in a final edit.)

It was ‘real’, too. Not la-di-da ‘everything is always perfect and covered in rose-petals’ as typically seen on TV for a wedding night. The episode stayed true to DG’s vision and gave us something honest and beautiful, especially in the progression of their love-making through the night.And yes, I cried.

It’s ironic (and a little depressing) that it took a show set in the eighteenth century to be so open-minded about sexuality, in this so-called enlightened & equal twenty-first century. For instance, making Jamie - the MAN - the inexperienced one, was an aspect of the book that’s been cherished for years. Yet to actually see it played out that way on TV without virginity being the sole focus (as many other shows would have done) was refreshing.

**********

Although this episode was still technically from Claire’s POV, it came the closest to giving us Jamie’s POV as well. He had considerable backstory and several scenes on his own, allowing the audience additional insight into his feelings about the marriage and what kind of man he was. Seeing Jamie as a “born storyteller” with Claire, and cracking jokes downstairs with his clansmen, was welcome growth for the character and the actor.Just because Jamie didn’t have a voiceover like Claire; didn’t mean the audience couldn’t see & understand everything going on in his mind - confusion, need, disappointment, elation…and the beginnings of real love.

Much of this was accomplished through non-verbal means - expressions, nuances and habits of Jamie the book-character, which have come out in the show. Sam Heughan said that he got many of them from reading the book, then collaborating with the director about what would work. But it’s one thing to teach yourself mannerisms - and another to completely embody them. Sam’s done it so well that we usually know Jamie’s state of mind without him saying a word, indeed so well that many have joked that he must be the actual reincarnation of a real-life JAMMF, haha.

But what was true was that many book fans - including myself - had a hard time remembering any other mental picture of Jamie Fraser from the moment they saw the onscreen version: that young man with a dislocated shoulder in a dark little cottage.

Which then made me wonder (because I think too much about everything) - did Sam become ‘our’ Jamie because he magically transformed himself? Or have we - the fandom - helped things along by taking some of Sam Heughan’s own attributes and ascribing them to what we know about the Jamie of the books? It’s obvious (from watching pre-Outlander performances and interviews) that some of the expressions described on the page by DG as ‘typical’ Jamie really do also belong to Sam (realistically, they belong to many people…but luckily for us - and no doubt for him in getting the role - he shares them too). So after throwing in the well-matched physical features - tall, strong, blue eyes and the (now) red hair, and crowning it off with that Scots accent…well, it wasn’t a huge stretch to merge the character on our screens with the one in our imaginations.

But to say it was all down to luck and a well-conditioned fandom isn’t fair - not to the fans, and definitely not to Sam Heughan. Seriously, it comes down to a damn fine acting job - probably even better than we already give him credit for. He was able to grasp an innate understanding of the character, adapt his own similarities while learning the rest, and deliver his lines just as we expected to hear them. He’s obviously worked very hard to bring Jamie Fraser to life - to the point that he’s really not ‘playing’ Jamie at all. When the cameras are rolling, he just is Jamie. ‘His Jamie’.

Of course none of this could have happened without stellar acting by all parties, and Caitriona Balfe has been just as successful. Unlike Jamie, Caitriona’s Claire has several physical differences from her book character. She’s taller, slimmer; her eyes are a different colour. But that hasn’t stopped her from becoming Claire. Now when I read the books it’s Cait who jumps off the page at me, regardless of what the character description might say…and that’s all down to her skill in owning Claire, completely.

It’s been said that Caitriona Balfe had the most difficult time during filming; as she’s been in almost all the scenes (at least for the eight episodes we’ve seen so far). Obviously that meant longer hours, definitely more lines to learn, and more behind the scenes requirements - from costumes to location travel to ADR. She also had to come back afterwards and match the tone of the narration to Claire’s mood in the scene. That may sound trivial, but I believe it’s extremely important: whereas a lot of Jamie’s character is revealed by his aforementioned expressions and movements, much of what we understand about Claire’s personality has come from her tone - in the voiceovers as well as in the scenes. The slightest change in her pitch or inflection allows the viewer to understand if Claire is wistful, amused, introspective, or tongue-in-cheek (one of my favourite aspects of Claire from the books, that Caitriona has got down perfectly). Just as Sam has done with Jamie, Cait portrays Claire in a manner that book-readers expect, and non-readers can easily understand and get to know.

The much-talked about chemistry between these two fairly jumps off the screen - and is a huge reason why the whole adaptation works so well. We believe it because they believe it, nothing seems forced. This is true of the entire cast - and I’ll probably have to write another blog about that at some point. They all deserve the highest praise.

**********

As previously mentioned, every single scene in the first eight episodes was told - just as in the book - from Claire’s POV. (Except, of course, the 1940’s Frank-left-behind scenes, which were not in the book.) Even scenes which seem on the surface to be independent of Claire - actually aren’t:

The punishment that Jamie took at Castle Leoch for Laoghaire, the oath-taking before Colum, the argument between Jamie and Dougal in Rent - Claire was always there, somewhere, watching. And of course, the events of Jamie being flogged at the prison were told to her by Black Jack Randall.

In The Wedding, all the ‘backstory’ scenes: Dougal with the priest, Jamie with Murtagh, Rupert and Angus with the ring, Ned with the dress - Jamie told these to Claire on their wedding night. Even when Jamie went downstairs to get food, what seemed at first like an ‘independent Jamie scene’ turned out to be another story: he told her about it afterwards as they ate.

I actually find all of those ‘story-scenes’ very interesting - because we viewers aren’t necessarily seeing what really happened, although it’s accepted as such. In truth, what we see is Claire’s interpretation of what she was told, often second or third-person by the time the viewer finds out. Yes, I’m overthinking again…but really, it’s fascinating!

Told as it is in first person narrative, in the book the reader knows only what Claire does. But with the series using the visual medium, they could have easily chosen to NOT hold with that, just as many other first person TV adaptations have done - because of the sheer difficulty of weaving scenes without the main protagonist into the overall story. And yet this series has done it masterfully, to the point you sometimes don’t realise how - until you go back and look again.I believe I read that in the second half of the season, some (one? partially? all?) of the episodes will be told instead from Jamie’s point of view. A departure from the book to be sure, but I think a very welcome one. I think the characters are now well-enough established within the TV show for this step to be taken, and it’s going to be very interesting to have another perspective.

**********

Right.  We’re getting near the end of this now, so prop yourselves up and pour another dram. Just one more thing to discuss:  Both Sides Now. I have a problem with it.

Don’t get me wrong - overall I ADORED the episode. Such brilliant acting. The Hugh character was lovely. The sequence where Jamie and Claire - who only want a little time alone to love each other, but end up killing their attackers - started out so funny and sweet…then quickly became shocking and sad. And the following scene, where a distraught Jamie tries to apologise to his trembling wife, was a shining moment for both actors.

However as much as I loved this episode, I have a hard time not being a little bit annoyed by it. I don’t even know if I can explain my feelings properly, but I’m going to try:

Although I completely trust the writers & showrunners, and as much as I’m enjoying it all and like the fact that there are deviations from the book, I can’t help but be a little disappointed that so much of the midseason finale was dedicated to Frank. Now that Jamie and Claire were married, it seemed important to have continued on from the last episode and explored their growing feelings a wee bit more. It didn’t even have to be a complete scene, just another couple of lines here or there…especially as this was the last we were going to see of them together for six months. And most distressingly (as many fans said), it felt completely wrong that Claire didn’t have at least one tiny thought for Jamie as she ran for the stones. Logic has allowed me to explain it as the shock she was still in causing her single-mindedness (I don’t know if that’s what the writers were thinking, it’s the only reason I could come up with), but my heart still missed what should/could have been.

After my first viewing, I honestly thought I must have missed something, and re-watched that section several times until I realised that what I was expecting to hear, simply wasn’t there. Even for the non-book-readers, it must have seemed a wee bit strange (or cold-hearted) that Claire was running toward one husband without even acknowledging the other existed.

Admittedly her ‘escape’ didn’t play out in the book as it did on TV - she didn’t make it to the stones, and it was days later so she was no longer in shock - but even so, in the book she was extremely conflicted, and spent some time rationalising how Jamie would fare without her. This could still have worked well in the episode without changing any of the existing events, just one little narration sequence before or as she started running across the field: “And Jamie - how could I leave him? But I had to go home. I didn’t belong here. And in time, he would forget about me, go on with his life.” (*Yes, basically paraphrased from what DG wrote.)

You may disagree, but I believe that sequence - which as I said was not in the novel - was built up to satisfy the drama of a mid-season finale and lend credence to the increased importance (in the series as compared to the book) of the left-behind Frank. I think it was a scene for the non-book readers to fall in love with, because as a book-reader it left me conflicted: it was a lovely moment in a stunning location, with a heart wrenching score, very cleverly thought out, exquisitely shot, and brilliantly acted by Caitriona Balfe and Tobias Menzies - but it left me struggling to enjoy it as much as I wanted to (yes I know I’m contradicting myself). Partially because of my annoyance that Jamie had been ignored, but mostly because I couldn’t help but see it as a ‘fake’. To me it was: “Okay, let the non-readers go into a six month hiatus feeling there’s hope for Frank. But the rest of us know he’s basically SOL. Even if we do see more of Frank, we know it’s still going to be Jamie all the way, so…”

I stated earlier that I don’t have a problem with differences from the book, and even here I still don’t have a problem in that way, per se. It’s more like I feel just a little cheated because it WAS so well done…and yet I couldn’t let myself enjoy it for what it was. (Admittedly, more recent viewings no longer leave me with quite such a negative reaction - I can now enjoy it, I suppose because I know what to expect - but that still doesn’t change my initial opinion.)

**********

So…if any of you actually made it this far, still reading - that’s it! And thank you! You’re brave. If you want to agree or disagree, I welcome comments on Twitter @juliechaston , or (if I set it up correctly and if you accessed this through the web instead of Tumblr) Disqus comments should be available below.

I think I might…only might…consider doing more frequent Outlander blogs for the second half in the spring, because I obviously can’t keep saving it up like this. And because I forgot to talk about the handsex! ;)


Toronto, 23 November 2014