The Official Black Owl Review of "Cloud Atlas."

I’m writing this right now in 2012 on a 2008 Macbook because a guy named Ed Yarborough bought a southern Arizona radio station in 1992.  Oh, and because of a butterfly ballot in Florida in 2000.

See, I worked for an FM rock station in Sierra Vista, Arizona starting in 1990, but in mid-1992 the competition purchased us outright.  There was talk that we would not be fired, and the format wouldn’t change, but I wasn’t buying that.  I was 20 years old and already had a wife and baby; I was not going to base the ability to feed my son on the word of a small town media mogul.  So, I joined the Army.

In 2000, the butterfly ballot in Florida was arguably responsible for the selection of the President.  Three years later, the winner of that dispute invaded a country in the Middle East.  The War would go on for the next nine years.

In 2008, I returned from my second deployment to that Middle Eastern country, and with extra money earned during deployment purchased the very laptop upon which I now type four years later.  (It’s a Mac; she’ll last forever.)

So here’s this chain of seemingly unrelated events that can be traced back from my present to my past, or forward from the 20 year old boy I was to the 40 year old man I am; I am who I am because of events like this chained together through my life. 

And, I have interacted with people: an out of work actor from New York who took a temp job as a translator for the Army in Bosnia; a man with a Doctorate in Physics who took an enlistment in the US Army to expedite his citizenship (and was still only an E4); a former member of the clergy who left the Church in anger; a woman I replaced in not one but TWO assignments through the years who happened to have graduated from my High School thirteen years before me. 

All the ripples they made in my life and service, all there because of events or people in their own lives like those that influenced me in a repeating cycle of cause and effect running back through the people around us, and our own forbearers.  Again, I am here in part because someone named Forrester decided to leave his home town and go to England in the 1300s, and then that person’s descendent—now going by Foster—decided to leave that home and head for a new continent in the late 1700s. 

These ripples, these connections, this web of human interaction and action and the consequences thereof: that is the central theme of the film “Cloud Atlas.”

 Is the film “about” reincarnation?  No, I don’t think so.  It would be easy to say yes, and any given character played by a single actor (Tom Hanks alone plays no less than six characters, and Jim Sturgess seven!) is intended to be that person reborn, or anyone who shares the comet shaped birthmark is indeed a soul returned.  IN places, characters react as if they remember one another from each story.  Rather, in retrospect I think that’s almost just a red herring.  The idea isn’t the actor; it’s the theme behind characters who recur between the six different stories.  In the final (chronological) story, Hugo Weaving plays not just the heavy, but also seemingly a figment of Tom Hanks’ goat herder’s imagination.   Not nearly as disturbing as Weaving’s gender switching portrayal of a Ratchet-like nurse in a 2012 rest home in England.  Point is, that nurse was not reincarnated into a hallucinatory devil… it’s the, well the character of the character.  If the familiarity between 1970s Tom Hanks and Halle Berry does come from the idea their souls were together elsewhen, then it is a bold statement, as they truly come together in the final story.  It speaks to an amazing idea I have myself toyed with that if the soul does return to another living existence in this world, there is no reason it should be constrained by linear time; my next life could be a thousand years ago.

As with any great work of art, the film’s subject to interpretation of course; perhaps it was exactly reincarnation, but to me the joy was watching the connections between the stories play out, the seeds planted on a ship in the 1850s coming to bloom in a future some 100 years after a cataclysmic fall of civilization… a single object affects two men thousands of years apart, but one that wouldn’t be there without the connected threads of history stretching back and forth throughout time.  A struggle in the mid 22^nd Century provides a religion for the distant future.  A book written in one time by a character provides another time frame’s character a distraction.  This connectivity speaks to the human condition whether one accepts the spiritual overtones or not: we are connected; all of us, and the actions of any of us can affect all of us. 

How connected are the six stories?  Some more strongly than others, some explicitly, some implicitly (is the composer’s dream in the 1930’s really of Somni~451’s Fabricant café in Neo-Seoul two hundred years later?  Has Luisa Rey in 1975 really heard the “Cloud Atlas Sextet” somewhere before?) but it may be a simple statement that history—great and small—is a cycle.  Anyone who’s read Strauss and Howe’s work on the repeating 80-year cycle of American history can understand that*.  As situations happen again (this has all happened before…) we see whether or not humanity has the capacity to learn from what has gone before.  Keep in mind as well, any one of these stories could work independently.  Separately, each would be a fine diversion; woven together they get to what really gave me joy when watching this film.

It’s about the art of storytelling.  The film opens and closes on a wizened storyteller relating some series of events which may or may not include these tales.  Each timeframe is about someone who is themselves trying to have a story told: be it an abolitionist’s trip to the south seas; a young composer telling the love of his life about the work he is doing at the feet of a more famous (but fading) composer; a journalist getting to the bottom of some form of nuclear power conspiracy in the 70s; a publisher in 2012 relating his forced incarceration in a rest home as a book; a manufactured human in the 22^nd Century trying to tell the world she feels, is alive, loves; two people from entirely different survivor cultures post-apocalypse trying to tell those who already left Earth what has happened to those who stayed behind; and again to our ancient raconteur putting it in context.  The film itself is masterful storytelling that steps into the realm of metafiction to celebrate masterful storytelling.  I could get into the set pieces—any one of which would be worthy of notice if the segment were itself a film—or the makeup taking well known actors and transforming them across ethnicity or gender to make sure we understand the most important connection these characters all have: They are human. 

I have spoken elsewhere about my feelings of humanism driven not in spite of, but rather by my faith.  These stories, this film, spoke to me on that level, not trying to hide the ugly side of human existence, but still exalting what we can do when we bother to acknowledge our interconnectedness.  It defies the idea that natural order is one group over another, but rather that natural order is…us.  We the living, all God’s children, the whole of the race, whichever system’s phraseology you want to use.  “Cloud Atlas” is indeed an abridged atlas of the geography of human history, the hills, the valleys, the obstacles, the roads, and those too are us. 

It is not a film for everyone, and it does play a little long in some places.  However, it’s the first time in a long time (dare I say since the Wachowskis gave us the original “The Matrix”) I have seen a movie that strove for true originality and didn’t just regurgitate the formula labeled “popular film.”  I can’t wait to see it again…multiple times.

*If you have not read “Generations: The History of America’s Future from 1584 to 2069” you absolutely should. Published in 1992 with a strong and strengthening economy, the authors predicted a new depression would start somewhere between 2007 and 2012.  The book is a fascinating study of just how much we are slaves to history. 

(Images property of Warner Brothers)

Look Up

I don’t think it’s a big secret that tastes change with age.  Experience tempers us into a different person given enough time; sure, the basics stay the same, but the details will shift and shape according to the things that have come along to stunt or enhance us. 

There was a time I was very much a “strike back” kind of guy.  If someone did wrong, they needed justice, they needed revenge visited upon them; they needed to pay for what they had done.  Then I spent some time seeing the results of that first hand with My Firm and I realized that cycle was pretty useless.  All it did was self-perpetuate and solve pretty much nothing.

As I’ve gotten older, I have come to appreciate an older point of view and the idea that people can be better.  The people can do the right thing when properly inspired.  At times, I do have moments of nihilistic pessimism, but I know what we are capable of when we look up instead of crawling through the shadows. 

I read a lot of comic books, and often my tastes are driven by what’s going on around me.  Something I will tell you though, as much as I do enjoy characters like Spider-man and Hulk, I’m a DC guy.  I’ve written elsewhere about why I prefer one to the other, and how I think DC characters are fictions to whom people could aspire rather than commiserate with.  For years, my go to for comics has been The Batman.  As a child it was likely Adam West that drug me that way, as he showed up re-run on Arizona TV the most.  Then, as happened to any geeky adolescent in the 80s, my perceptions of Batman and comics in general were forever changed.  DC published and collected Frank Miller’s “The Dark Knight Returns,” and “Batman: Year One.”  I won’t get into Miller’s later Batman work and how it should or could be interpreted, but DKR and YO had a profound effect on comics and geeks, and that’s been discussed at length elsewhere, so I won’t rehash that either.  Suffice it to say, Batman has been my favorite superhero for a long time. 

The internet has done something interesting though.  In the form of newsgroups, or email lists, or later blogs, or tweets, or Facebook posts, my thoughts and ramblings are recorded for all time. (So much for running for public office.)  Going back over my writings and musings, I started noticing something.  I’ve been talking about someone else a bit more.

Since 2008, my blog entries on this very site have run neck and neck regarding Batman, and DC’s—and the world’s—first superhero, the aptly named Superman.  Some of those posts cross-over; but, from a defense of “Superman Returns,” to some worship of“All-Star Superman” to the fact I was unable to bring myself to drink beer whilewearing a Superman costume in a bar—IN A BAR—I find myself seeking out old silver age Superman stories, and watching the cartoons repeatedly.  And I realized, I was commiserating more with Superman than I was with Batman.

I mean, it’s not like I didn’t always like Superman.  I saw both Christopher Reeve films in the theater.  I had (have) the Mego figure.  Whenever I do something particularly… less than safe… with my Firm, I wear a Superman T-shirt under my gear.  When I fly, I wear Superman underwear.   One time, about 18 or so years ago, Jen and I stopped on the side of I-10 to help two old ladies and a couple of kids fix a flat.  We had parked a ways up and I left Jen in the car, and ran back to see what the problem was.  When I got there a state trooper was pulling over and was going to help.  Just as I was about to run back to my car to leave, the little girl in the back of the car asked where I came from.  Now, again, 18 years ago, so a lot more hair and a lot less gut was wearing a certain emblem, and I couldn’t resist saying, “I’m Superman,” before running off to disappear into the night.  I just kind of realized recently I was reading more about the Man of Steel, and less about The Dark Knight. 

Speaking of my Firm, I spent the last three years teaching my students the difference between our Nation’s abilities and the abilities of our sneakier enemies by explaining how Batman would beat Superman in a fight.  Sure, Batman distinguishes himself by not being a killer, but in the end he’s a scared little boy lashing out.  His anger drives him, but it’s sad because what would that brilliant mind be if it were working for the betterment of mankind rather than just the miniaturization of cable filament so his bat-grappler works better.   When turned on the farmboy who never crosses his own lines, Batman’s inherent darkness will win.  Superman is a little sappy.

“Oh,” I hear you say, “That means someone sappy like Superman isn’t relevant anymore.”  Yeah, that comes out every few years, and what happens?  Someone kills him, or makes him renouncecitizenship, or gives him a mullet, and people are up in arms: if this character is irrelevant, why do we care?  Because in the end all superheroes exist because of Superman.  In the end, everything a Superhero should be is Superman.

(In the interest of full disclosure, this is a breaking point in my initial writing; during the time this was on pause, The “Man of Steel” teaser hit, and a man with a lot of guns shot up a theater showing “The Dark Knight Rises.”  Neither of these events change my intent here, but I can’t say they won’t influence how I say it.)

It’s not just comics though, is it?  Look at this symbol:

I’ve been all over the world, and no matter where I go, this symbol means something: as much as any corporate logo, and in some cases as much as any religious emblem. Those kids 18 years ago knew that symbol. (And I will never forget the look in their eyes as they wondered if it were true…) When people see that symbol, they know it means more than ‘S.’  Sure, some people interpret it differently, but there’s one thing that symbol has meant to whomever I have talked to about it.

Look up.

With no irony, with no condescension, when you look up, Superman might be there, might just be a blue/red blur who will help us when we need it most.  More than that, Superman stands for all we have the potential to be: Superman saved a kitten from a tree.  I don’t need to be an invulnerable alien from Krypton to save a kitten.  Maybe I should save kittens, or help feed the poor, or help defend the helpless, or a million other things we CAN do without flying or being bullet-proof.

Look up.  A sensibility like that can lead to us not only looking up to see Superman, but to see ourselves up there, making this world a better place.  I know Superman is a fictional character, but he has come to symbolize an idea of something better, a light we so desperately need in our darkness.  I have many times said (and I know now incorrectly) that we want Superman; we need Batman.  No, we need a light shining in the darkness, we need an example of good with no sense of irony for our kids, for us, for our world.  The ‘S’ means that cross-culturally, an icon that instantly conveys rightness and hope for a better tomorrow.

Look up.  If you are writing Superman for page or screen, look up when you idealize him in media.  He’s important, and with the power of your written word comes great responsibility.  The essential nature of Superman is eternal and unchanging.  He is not a dark character and can never be.  His circumstances may be, but he is that light, that example.  I think the new teaser (though I am wary how good an interpretation the film will be) for the 2013 film Man of Steel does manage to capture this in Jor-El’s voice over:

"You will give the people an ideal to strive towards. They will race behind you, they will stumble, they will fall. But in time, they will join you in the sun. In time you will help them accomplish wonders". 

Look up.

I have great appreciation for the Batman, and will always.  What a great character, subject of great story and film.  Unlike any other fictional character I know of though, Superman means something; something that as I get older I realize I would rather find in my fiction than just the good guy beating up the bad guy.  Something better something calling us to action.  I want to answer that call, I want to make the world around me a better place with whatever powers and abilities I as mortal man have.  And so my tastes have changed.  With this blog, I declare my favorite hero to be Superman…

…though Batman would still take him in a fight.  And indeed, perhaps the fact Batman would take the Kryptonian in a fight is validation for my thoughts.  Superman would not compromise what he stands for to do what it takes to end Batman, and therefore lose to the Man who must do anything to win.  Superman’s ends do not justify his means, and finally in my life, neither do mine.  I’ve decided to try something.

I’m looking up.

All images property of Warner Bros, no infringement intended, no profit made

Roads?

No planning here; in fact I’ve been working on another essay altogether, and this one just struck me. (To be totally forthcoming, I am as I actually post this to the blog doing a quick read-over for editing, but not changing content itself.)  It will likely ramble a bit as it is being born as I write it, and the birth process of an idea is as messy as the actual event upon which the allegory is based. 

I am reading a rather fascinating essay in it’s own right.  This author is a rather insightful 17-year-old film fan who spent two years writing a 130 page treatise on the cultural significance and deeper meaning of the seminal film Blade Runner.  He loves the film as much—more—than I do, and though he could use a good professional editor (couldn’t we all?) he’s got some wonderful ideas about the various cuts, and the greater context of cinema in the year 1982, upon which he can look with a less biased eye as he didn’t yet exist to have experienced it first hand.  I saw many of those movies in the theater, so of COURSE I think it’s the best year movies have ever had.  The fact smart kids think so too is rather refreshing.

While discussing the type of future in which Blade Runner is set he quotes another simply wonderful film—albeit from a couple of years later—Back to the Future.  We all remember that last scene: Doc Brown in with his now garbage/fusion fueled time machine comes to take Marty McFly into the magic world of 2015 (screw you, Mayans) where famously Brown notes, “Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”

I’ve been watching that film repeatedly for NEARLY as long a time as Brown and the McFlys traveled into the future.  Yet only now discussing potential futures does the profundity of that statement strike me.  “Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”  Sure, Brown means it literally as evidenced by the flying Delorean, but think of the broader interpretation.  We’re heading for the future, and the way things are now are not the way things will be forever.  Right now we live in a nation webbed with asphalt connecting every single point with every single other point.  We live in an automobile culture (I have written elsewhere about our adoration of our cars), but one day we will beyond that.  Someday, we won’t need roads. 

Let’s get beyond the auto/road idea though.  The way in which we now live will not be the way our descendants will live.  Hell, the way we are living now won’t be the way we live 30 years from now, any more than we are living the same way as 30 years ago.  Sure, no moonbases or even widespread flying cars, but the amount of connectivity between people and information—even in the poorest of nations—changes the destiny of those nations (ask Egypt).  The way we shop, the way we get places, the way we eat, the content of our music and fiction; given only 30 years, all these things will be lost… like tears in rain (couldn’t miss that one).

With change so inevitable, we have no choice but to change ourselves, and honestly the more we fight it, the worse it will be.  Instead, we have an opportunity to shape that future.  We can cling to the past, or we can change those things we should change.  We don’t need roads; we don’t need to follow a path just because we always have.  We can ask ourselves what new way we can create to ride those ways of change. As one of my favorite futurists, Warren Ellis, states in his remarkable work Transmetropolitan, "The future is an inherently good thing."

Let’s take one more look: “Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”  Imagine a world where we make decisions not to follow those darker paths, not to oppress or attack, but to act with care for our fellow humans, and with the honest intent to improve the world around us.  You feel over legislated?  When we, as a species, stop causing trouble and start working together, we don’t need to be policed or governed, we can just live.  A place where we don’t need roads.  That sounds pretty cool. 

So thanks Doc Brown for getting my attention.  Reminding me the future can be bright if only we—all of us—want it to be.  We can’t take this on singularly, we can’t just “take care of ourselves;” we have to be responsible for our fellow humans.  Because as much as things change, it is always us in the middle of it, and in 10,000 years our nature hasn’t changed nearly as much as it should.  You can’t separate yourself from the world, from the responsibilities we have as a species.  Any of us are only as good—or as bad—as all of us.  If you don’t think so, go back and read whichever book you think serves as instructions for life; not one of them I am aware of says you’re on your own.  Not Darwin, not Jesus, not Buddha, not YHVH, they all tell us about an essential collectiveness to our species.  Act on it…

…so we don’t need roads.

The Official Black Owl Review of "Prometheus."

SO YOU KNOW: SPOILERS        SPOILERS         SPOILERS (all images property 20th Century Fox)

I believe, in my life, I have seen a handful of "perfect" films.  Now, in my mind "perfect" does not necessarily correspond to "best" but they are films which present their subjects in such a way that no change could improve the way they play out.  The first perfect film that comes to mind for me is always "Raiders of the Lost Ark."  The character of Indiana Jones, the pace, the evil Nazis, the memorable moments: all of it meshes to perfection and presents an action-adventure like no other.  I also like to mention "Conan the Barbarian," the Milius version from 1982, not the 2011 version.  The movie has almost no dialogue, but the imagery, the violence, the bastardly nature of Conan are just pitch perfect as a fantasy movie.  The 2011 version really just serves to point out the greatness of the original.  Nothing would make it better.

A third "perfect" film is Ridley Scott's 1979 SF/Horror classic, "Alien."  From the everyman "space trucker" characters to the disturbingly sexual overtones of the hideous xenomorph, to the plausibility of the tech and design, "Alien" is truly perfect.

So perhaps thinking "Prometheus" would be as good was a mistake.  Don't get me wrong, "Prometheus" is a very good film, and though not as scare oriented as the original offers one truly horrific scene that made the entire theater very uncomfortable, and yet fit with the story.  There are a couple of excellent performances, and the set and shot designs are stunning.  But...  

Let me start with what doesn't work, so I can get to what does; because what does work, works wonderfully.  This film is flooded with actors, and has barely any characters.  As much as the aforementioned everyman crew of the first film made plenty of mistakes and had their share of..."special" moments, many of the actions and reactions of the characters in this film defy even the strangest Hollywood logic.  Charlie, one of the scientists whose research led to this mission seems inconsolable when "all" they find is absolute evidence of all his theories and, oh by the way, the origins of Human life on Earth.  Fifield, the punk-rock geologist (see what I did there?) who TAKES A JOB TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE freaks out at the first sign of alien life... which is quite dead.  Even more bizarre, the BIOLOGIST who has the opportunity of a life time freaks out and wants to escape when he sees 2000 year-dead alien bodies, but thinks it's a good idea to pet the very alive very squirmy wormlien.  Additionally, there's a bunch of people running around who never get names, so when they get whacked, you just don't care.  Taking the time to show us those people could have been better spent investing us in the characters whom we do know; I barely sympathize with Doctor Shaw, and she's the one asking the big questions which are the crux of the film.  

There's some inconsistency with the threat as well.  There's black oil (did someone get Chris Carter's permission?) that turns worms into evil snakes, and geologists into zombies, and when ingested as only a drop makes mopey archeologists want to be burned to death.  But said oil also was used by the Engineers to infuse (through a haunting scene of self sacrifice) their DNA into life on Earth.  And when apparently channeled through a couple of human reproductive systems (including one that doesn't work) makes humans gestate Cthulhu-like babies that will later mix with an Engineer and make a proto-xenomorph (more on this later).  I appreciate that some of the ambiguity is intended, particularly on the part of The Engineers who seem intent on destroying human life having created it, but the Oil comes off as a bit Deus-Ex-Machina to me doing whatever the writers need it to do when they need it.  I also had a hard time suspending my personal disbelief that Dr. Shaw could have a Caesarian to remove a particularly violent little octo-thulhu and then sprint down alien hallways and rappel off alien ships.  Just didn't work for me.

So what does work?  A hell of a lot actually.  Although they missed some bets on these details, the big stuff is pretty damn good.  The character who works really damn well is David, who I think also provides the focal point of the big questions.  Charlie is so distraught he can't confront his creators about their purposes, yet repeatedly treats humanity's creations with disdain.  David is an outcast among his so-superior creators, while those same people seek their parents and expect answers.  Fassbender is as usual perfect in this role, and I actually found I appreciated the movie a bit more placing the story around him rather than Dr. Shaw.

The sets are truly stunning with enough visual link to "Alien" to know there's some connection, but enough questions left that you know you don't have the whole story yet.  This is NOT LV426, so how does one of the Engineers with a ship full of Xenomorph eggs get there?  How did Weyland become Weyland-Yutani?  How does Weyland-Yutani KNOW there will be an Engineer ship full of xenomorph eggs there when seemingly the first xenomorph progenitor only comes into existence on LV223 after Dr. Shaw and David leave to find the Engineer homeworld?  Why DID the Engineers seed Earth with their DNA, planning to revisit it with the Black Oil millions of years later?  How did it wipe out this base?  Why did they leave a map for us to find their secret weapon of mass destruction base?  Is the Black Oil really the next intended "upgrade" in our design?  What else will the proto-xenomorph "breed" through to become the steel-jawed Alien I crapped my pants to in 1979?

Whoa.  Obviously I stumbled into what the movie does best; it makes you think about it.  You want the answers as much as the characters did, and perhaps more than the ones who didn't even know why they were there (and I still don't know why they were there...).  It is a great movie to speculate over, and you can't help but move into real life questions about our place in the universe from there.  In that, complete success.

So yes, a very good film, with a lot to offer.  I like it, but really think it could have been more, could have been tightened up, could have had one more re-write.  I am looking forward to seeing what subsequent viewings do for me, and what little things are going on I just downright missed.  Though I am disappointed it wasn't better, it is not a disappointing film.  It's borderline great.

But not perfect.

Ray Bradbury and the Rockets.

My very favorite author, Ray Bradbury, has passed away.  The man was 91 years old, and had been ill for some time, so it is not necessarily a surprise.  I want to take a moment though and talk about what he did for me.

Rockets.

I don't know what you feel when you hear or read that word, but every time I do I have a sense of longing.  I long for a world where we travel from planet to planet not on the grandiose "Starships" of Gene Roddenberry, or "Star Destroyers" of George Lucas, but on a simple rocket, nose pointed to the skies, aerodynamic fins doubling as landing legs as it sets down on the Red Planet; or going further into the cosmos carrying humans with all their fears and hopes, dreams and darkness, victories and foibles.  "Rockets" were what Ray Bradbury's astronauts used in his myriad of space stories.  Certainly I will not dismiss incredible tales like "Fahrenheit 451" or "Something Wicked This Way Comes," nor the wonderful 20th Century Irish Folk Tales and bits of Americana Bradbury brought to the page in his fever-dream like prose.  What will always stick with me though is the rockets. The adventure they would come to connote for me, and the dangers... But mostly the journey, the Rocket as a simple allegory for The Journey.  How very wonderful, and how envious I was as a child reading these stories of those fictional characters who climbed those ladders, and flipped those switches and turned those dials to shoot their rockets into space.

Whatever awaits you now, Mr. Bradbury, I hope it is as good as your stories.  I hope you are rocketing ahead with this world behind you to new adventures and mysteries.

And thank you for the Rockets.

2011 Round Up

Hello everyone,   Christmas 2011

Sometimes it feels like I am writing one of these every 20 minutes, but in fact it has been a whole year. They keep going faster and faster and I'm reminded of two great truths: nothing changes and everything changes.

Two-Thousand Eleven has been a pretty academic year for the Fosters. Zachary has finished his Associate's. Jennifer has finished her Bachelor's. I finished my Master's. Hannah, still in her Junior Year, has done her first college class. That's a lot of studying, but we are all in preparation for the future... because it is now.

This is likely the last year we will all be together in the same house. Zack is planning on leaving the nest and heading into the world, possibly by the time you read this. He's looking around for Law Enforcement positions and prepping his pepper spray. I thought I was raising Batman, but I think we got Commissioner Gordon instead; an honest cop to a fault, and I couldn't be more proud. Too bad he can't grow a cool Gary Oldman style mustache. We are going to miss him when he goes, but are really excited to see him get out into the world and fix it. That, and Eightball wants his own room...

Hannah has become someone whom I not only love as a daughter, but enjoy spending time with as a person. She's articulate and funny, but sometimes goes off with the type of mouth Fosters are famous for. I should tell her to watch her mouth, but at times her profanity is sculpted like Michaelangelo working in four-letter words. It's an artform she is mastering, and she has the brains to back up her points. Also, we watch a lot of Doctor Who together. She's looking forward to some of the changes 2012 brings, which I will get into in a moment.

Zack isn't the only superhero in the Foster family; Jennifer—along with her academic success—has been volunteering with the Red Cross helping several families who lost their homes in fires, to include the Monument Fire which made national news this year. She's building up the resume to get to our next duty station and find some work saving the world herself. Very exciting to think about what she's going to be up to in the coming year, be it work or her own Master's program (or both). Again, we are getting ready for the next phase.

That next phase is about here. In the Spring we make what should be our last move for My Firm and return to the Great Green Northwest. About that time I should be pinning CW4, and the 36 (or possibly 24) month countdown to retirement starts then. I have truly loved My Firm, but phase two is about here, and it is time for something new. Not sure what that will be, and My Firm still wants me to give them one more trip to the badlands, but that's a small price to pay for joining the Check of the Month Club.

See? Everything is changing: new city, new jobs, new school, new ranks. Everything is staying the same: save the world, get educated, be busy. The world isn't going to end in 2012; we won't let it.

So, we ask this year you indulge us just a bit longer as we may be sporadic in reaching out. Please believe me when I tell you we love you all and we hope Christmas and the holiday season finds you all looking forward to 2012, and the New Year being kind to you. Keep calm and carry on, and we will all get through this together.   Merry Christmas!  Happy Chanukah! Happy New Year!  Occupy 2012!

The Fosters

The Official Black Owl Review of “Rise of the Planet of the Apes.”

So, recently I have seen some pretty good movies (Thor, True Grit) and some pretty poor ones (Green Lantern), but right now I want to discuss a movie I loved, loved, loved. Lots of spoilers will follow, but I will start with a little background, and give a spoiler free review.

I was probably eight or nine the first time I saw the original Planet of the Apes. Saw it on TV with commercials, they way we watched movies pre-VHS, and must freely admit I shrieked a little in horror and despair when the (spoiler for the original here... but I don't feel too bad about spoiling a 43 year old movie) Statue of Liberty makes her appearance, and the director masterfully fades to credits with no sound but the ocean waves. Then, our local CBS affiliate started showing the TV series Saturday nights after the 10 o'clock news, and I would beg my Dad to stay up with me, and usually fall asleep before Galen, Burke, and Virdon escaped Spock's dad in a Gorilla suit. Bless my dad though; he put up with that most of the summer that year.

When we started getting TBS, various Ape movies would show up, and I was there. To this day, regardless of the fact I own them all on DVD (and the aforementioned TV series, AND the animated series, AND the Tim Burton remake), if I am flipping through the channels and an Ape movie comes on, everything else goes on standby. Even if it's Battle.

About the Marky Mark/Tim Burton version; I don't hate it. I think the Apes are extremely well presented, and the effects are good. The story's a little slowly paced, and the twist ending is nailed on so poorly and inorganically the DVD actually has an interactive feature to try to explain how that crazy crap happened... and it still really doesn't work. Trick endings are like jokes. If you have to explain them, they weren't told right the first time.

Regardless, I love the Apes movies, and with the Lincoln Memorial Ape still burned in my mind I heard they were making a new one. I was skeptical, but willing to give it a shot. Certainly concerned that all the Apes would be CGI, and that this new one would basically rehash what we saw in Conquest of the Planet of the Apes. To be objective though, the Ape origin there pushes more than a little credibility: a space virus kills all our dogs and cats, so we enslave apes who in 20 years are now wearing clothes and human sized, ready for the secret child of two future apes to lead them to an Ape-Power victory over their homo sapient masters. There's a few non-sequiturs there, and even a few inconsistencies with the other movies. Saw the first teaser, and I was mighty intrigued. Then I saw the four minute promo clip and my interested was piqued. It looked pretty damn good. And now that I have seen it?

As stated above, I loved, loved, loved Rise of the Planet of the Apes. The action is good, but this is a film with a heart and mind as well, and that what sets it above other summer movies. It is smart, providing very reasonable scientific advancements as the catalyst for Caesar's rise. Caesar as a character though provides a heart to the film, and the motion capture emotions on Andy Serkis' Caesar needs to be honored somehow, be it a Best Actor Oscar for Serkis, or one for everyone who brought Caesar to life. Yeah, I said best actor; this is Caesar's movie, and really even top billed James Franco is there only to allow us to get to Caesar. This is a choice that must have looked like a big risk to the production, but pays off in spades. The set of Ape characters with their personalities and quirks... I could watch them for hours. Caesar though, with his brilliant mind still driven by chimpanzee emotion is compelling, and compassionate. The only other performance that comes close is John Lithgow as James Franco's father suffering Alzheimer's; if I have any complaint it's that I didn't get to see these two performances interact more, but when they do it is heartbreaking gold.

I also want to point out the incredible love the makers of this film have for the original property. The film is littered with deep and arcane references to the other films, yet only once does it seem to be wedged in (and I am sure it is no spoiler to you to know that a certain line about “damn dirty apes” would be repeated), but the moment following it makes it oh so worth it. I would love to meet the writer and director, because I have no doubt we could sit down with beer and pizza watching all the Apes movies and have a great time... because they have obviously done that themselves. Little moments and images all part of the texture of the film that a new viewer can see and not be distracted by, while Ape-Heads like me can smile. Those moments serve to tie this movie to the others, and make it a very coherent prequel. I would love to go into some of the subtler ones here, but I don't want to spoil anything. Keep an eye on the news the characters watch though.

I have heard complaints that the human characters are a bit two-dimensional in this film, and in some cases this is true. Didn't bother me though; this is the Apes' movie, and they rise well. It is so nice to see a good, hard Sci-Fi movie that tells its story well. I hope it succeeds, because it is a movie which deserves to be seen. My fear is someone will then decide there MUST be a sequel, and I don't know we need that. Then again, I wasn't sure we needed this one, and I left the theater giddy. Ape fan or not, if you are looking for a good blend of action, intellect, and emotion, this is worth checking out. Hail Caesar.

Dear Superman...

Dear Superman,
You probably aren't used to getting letters from adults. Usually, by the time someone has reached my age you are no longer as mystifying as you were when we were children, and you are instead something as dependable as the sunrise; an accepted part of the American landscape which can never change as you are so firmly integrated into it.

American. More on that in a minute.

Anyway, I am not someone who sees trouble and immediately looks up to see if there is a streak of red coming faster than the eye can follow to save the day. I have a job where I am responsible to taking care of trouble, and for making the world a better place. It's something I am proud to do because it is inherent in my role as a protector, and a privilege conducted in service to the nation of my birth. Ostensibly, I work as a protector of that country, but in said role I often protect others in different nations. My role as protector is often misunderstood or misinterpreted. That is all right, because I do not protect people for recognition, but rather because it is the right thing to do. I do it in the name of my country, because I love this country and feel ideals like truth and justice are inherent to what we are supposed to be. As a super power, America will have to act in situations where no one else can, and I think we have a moral obligation as a nation to do so. Any superpower has an obligation to improve the condition of the world.

I am not an "America: right or wrong" kind of guy. I am an "America: let's do it right" sort. I know my nation both as a collective of individuals and as a state makes mistakes, and sometimes as a result of those mistakes, innocents die. I don't believe you stop trying to help though, I believe you just have to do a better job when you do offer help.

America, and the protection thereof, means a lot of different things to people, evoking both blind patriotism unwilling to see the nation's mistakes, and blind fury unwilling to see the nation's good. Both such extremes are wrong. America is made up of all of us, our victories, our foibles; our loves and our hates. Above all, this nation founded on principle-not on ethnicity or faith-is about opportunity for all. Again, we have made mistakes in the past, and will do so in the future, but for the most part we are a nation of immigrants; founded by immigrants, built by immigrants, fought for by immigrants, and all one needs to be part of it really is a profound belief in Truth, Justice, and the American Way. Some differ on the definition of "American Way," but most will agree it is that anyone in America can become the best of America. With ability, drive, and passion, America should give us the opportunity to become anything. That may apply to the poor, the lost, the downtrodden. It may apply to a child cast into the night who by the grace of God or fate ends up not in death or ocean or tyranny, but in America.

I don't know where you were raised, Superman. You seem to make your home in one of our greatest cities, yet when I see you in interviews your manner is almost like people I know who grew up on a farm. I don't know if you had powers as a baby or not. There's rumors you exhibited strange feats early on, and others that say the radiation of our sun almost killed you before it empowered you. Your greatest asset though did not come from the yellow sun or the ground or the sky. Your greatest asset, came from America; your ethics.

You've been around since 1938. Imagine if you had landed in Hitler's Germany or, like a story I once read in Stalin's USSR. Would you have become arrogant as one worshiped if you had landed with an aboriginal tribe with no understanding of science, labeling you a god? Had your ship landed anywhere else in the world, would you have become Superman, or instead The Superman ruling us as might makes right? It doesn't matter, because you DID land here, and you DID learn American core values, and you DO have a moral code which makes you a protector and not a dictator. You are the epitome of the cold, hungry immigrant washed ashore in America who rises to exceed their origin. As I say, you are a constant to me; a part of America as much as the flag, or a fair deal, or Teddy Roosevelt riding a Bull Moose across a river.

Now, as I understand you are afraid you will be confused with America. God, I hope you are right. I hope children the world over see you stop a volcano, or rescue innocents from the path of war, or change the course of mighty rivers and say, "look at America at its best." In that way you provide not only a sign to them that our nation can be great, but a sign to us that it should be great. We make mistakes, but to get better we need hope, we need inspiration. We need to know that as horrible as the things we have done are, we can still be good, and still make the world a better place. More powerful than anything is the need to believe what we can be, to have a symbol, we can look to and aspire to be.

I spend a lot of my life looking at the flag for that, and wear it on my own uniform while I am out trying to make the world a better place. I know at times that flag is all someone across from me sees, and that is why it is so important I wear it well. When I am out to make the world a better place, I recognize I am a citizen of the world as well as a citizen of the most just nation in history; being a citizen of the world and a citizen of the United States are not mutually exclusive. Don't give up one for the other; be both. The world does need you, and so do we. When I think of the tragedy that could have been had you landed somewhere else, I think there is still a level upon which you need us too.

Don't walk away from America out of fear, because you think the world will confuse you with us. Instead, wear that flag in the best possible way, and show them, and America, all it can mean; all it should mean.

You were quoted as saying, "I'm an alien...born on another world. I can't help but see the bigger picture." See it then, and tell your fellow Americans what you see. Help us see it too. We will help you see what Truth, Justice, and the American Way can do on the small scale; the Red Cross worker in Haiti, the American soldier keeping peace in Bosnia. I don't defend the misguided imperialism some would want to see this country practice, but I vehemently stand up for us as a light to the world...as millions of immigrants before you have done by making this nation great. Let those who would fight against freedom and opportunity for all confuse you with America; then, help America be a country which can be easily confused with you.

Thank you for your time, Superman. I hope to see you out there as a comrade,

An American Soldier

My hooch, Baghdad 2004.