 Thiel-a-VisionThe personal website of David Thiel in Champaign, Illinois. It's a geek thing. |
Just like you thieves, always taking things that don't belong to you. --Damodar, "Dungeons and Dragons" |
Last night finally brought an end to my reign as King of Digitopolis. It’s sad that I won’t see many of my fellow cast members again, but I’m certainly glad to get back my free time.
I did manage to walk away with both my pointy hat (which was originally mine, before the numbers were added) and my giant pencil. Both now adorn my office.
Here is a gallery of photos from The Phantom Tollbooth.
Last night saw the opening night of The Phantom Tollbooth, or rather, the preview performance, a sort of final dress with an audience who only paid half-price for tickets.
While I did not break a leg, as the theatre saying goes, I did stub my toe very hard during the final battle with the Demons of Ignorance, and it’s still sore this afternoon. I guess that’s one of the risks of being a wartime leader.
Click on the photo for a larger image!
The show went well, though it was not without incident. During an early scene in “The Doldrums,” several of the Lethargians (shapeless blobs realized in true Doctor Who fashion by sticking an actor in a gray sack and zipping it closed) got disoriented when it was time to exit. Two of them rolled off the apron into the audience, and the third rolled into Milo’s bedroom on far stage left. There he sat for about a minute, thinking he was safely offstage, until he realized that he was up against Milo’s pile of pillows, and that the large, boxlike object was not the outhouse we keep in the wings until Act Two, but rather the tollbooth itself! In a panic, he rolled off the edge of the stage and exited through a side door. No one was hurt, though the director nearly died laughing during intermission. Too bad no one was videotaping!
Later, during my big scene as the Mathemagician, there’s a gag involving the largest number (a very tall three) and the longest number (a very wide eight). My minions are supposed to tote each across the stage in succession, but they couldn’t find the eight and therefore turned the three on its side and brought it back across. I covered the gaffe with a quip: “Here it is. It looks surprisingly like the other one.”
This second photo features the majority of the cast as seen in the final scene. Note the poor Dodecahedron on the far left, who is 1) not exactly even on all sides, and 2) inexplicably wearing a beret.
I’m facing a bit of a time crunch this week after nearly six days away from the office. Last week’s Dish TV satellite receiver installation took about a full day longer than expected, so I was gone most of Thursday and Friday. We now have 120 channels, and, as you might expect, nothing’s on.
We also have a rather sizable dish bolted to the roof of our house, which Vic is not particularly thrilled about. She’d assumed that they’d be able to use the previous owner’s mounting post out by the shed, but as we were having two separate boxes (each with two receivers serving a total of four TVs) installed, we needed more wires and more room for a larger dish. Still, the dish is on the rear of the house, and isn’t even visible unless one is nearly on top of it.
Snarky jokes about “nothing on” aside, I’m loving this brave new digital world, particularly for a built-in TiVo-Like Device. (TiVo’s a brand name for what is unhelpfully known as a Personal Video Recorder, but as our box isn’t from TiVo, and because no one knows what I mean when I say “PVR,” I’ve resorted to “TiVo-Like Device.”) People have always told me that this is a life-changing piece of technology, and I have to admit that I agree. Once I figured out what I was doing, I’ve found it a breeze to operate and a delight to watch. The other night, while viewing The Simpsons live, I missed one of the throwaway sign gags and was able to simply rewind, freeze frame and restart the program, catching up during the next commercial break.
I was able to begin receiving the Sci-Fi Channel just in time for the series premiere of the “reimagined” Battlestar Galactica. With Deep Space Nine‘s Ronald D. Moore at the helm, Galactica already exhibits several of that previous space saga’s best features, including an emphasis on political and character development, as well as a nuanced view of villainy. It’s really good stuff; check it out.
For years, both Richard Hatch (not the Survivor nudist, but rather the actor who played the original “Apollo”) and Galactica creator Glen Larson had tried to launch their own revivals, but as neither owned the rights, these projects never happened. When the new series was finally announced, purists howled because it would not be a continuation with the surviving original cast, as Hatch had envisioned. How could it be any good, they railed, without Hatch, Dirk Benedict, etc.?
Here’s the thing. As much fondness as I have for the old show (and yes, I own the DVDs), I realized that it was something less than a success even back in ’78. Chock-full of plot holes, ridiculous science, bad hair and cheesy rip-offs (remember when Apollo played “Shane” against a gunslinging Cylon?), it had its moments, but even my 14-year-old self knew that it could be better. Now, thanks to a thoughtful reboot, it is. (And Richard Hatch, despite his initial bitching, is praising the new series these days. Not coincidentally, he appears as a guest star in two upcoming episodes!)
Tonight is the final dress rehearsal for The Phantom Tollbooth, which opens tomorrow at the Parkland College Theatre. I’d hoped to have a photo of myself in full Mathemagician garb posted here by now, but they’ve requested that we not take personal photos until a designated posing session next week. I can understand; this is a large cast with a lot of youngsters, and it could quickly become chaos if everyone was running around snapping photos. Besides, we have more important things to do right now. The show is coming together, but the pacing is still a tad slow. On the other hand, the funkadelic ’70s sets and costumes are amazingly fun, and I absolutely love my five-foot magic pencil! (The eraser is a dodgeball, so it bounces when I smack the floor with it.) I’m excited–and scared–about tomorrow night!
A few random updates:
Finished Half-Life 2 over the weekend. A great game, but a very disappointing ending. Note to game designers: if I save the world, I want to receive some sort of payoff. Cheering throngs, a little virtual nookie, anything other than being put into storage until the inevitable Half-Life 3. It would’ve been nice to at least see a little of the invasion aftermath, or have an opportunity to punch the villainous Dr. Breen in the face a few dozen times. Man, I hated that guy.
A busy week for me: not only am I in the final full week of rehearsal for The Phantom Tollbooth, but Vic and I are taking Wednesday off to drive to Chicago and see the pre-Broadway run of Spamalot. This is Eric Idle’s musical adaptation of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, starring David Hyde Pierce, Hank Azaria and Tim Curry. The only time for which we could get tickets was a Wednesday matinee. Don’t know if it’ll be good, but it should be fun!
Thursday, the installers come to hook up Dish Network. We’d been talking about migrating from cable for some time. Vic doesn’t like the ever-rising rates; I don’t like the endless, annoying Insight Cable commercials and the fact that they moved the Sci-Fi Channel to the digital tier. So, as of Thursday we join the satellite crowd, which means that I not only get Sci-Fi again (just in time for the premiere of the new Battlestar Galactica series), but also finally have a chance to check out some of my station’s competitors, including BBC America and Noggin. And best of all, we’re getting a PVR (one of them fancy disc drive recordin’ thangs), so it’ll be much easier to catch my favorite shows.
Appropos of nothing, here are my favorite spammers of the weekend: Wmowg Guwc (say that three times fast), Eddy Ooont and Sprained J. Lexicography.
One of the reasons I’m most grateful for the TV-on-DVD format hit retail last week: the 1985 version of The Twilight Zone.
Viewers of a certain age may recall that for a brief time, there were three drama anthologies on network TV in 1985. The one with the highest profile was Steven Spielberg’s Amazing Stories, which NBC contracted for an unprecedented two-year run before the first episode ever aired. Second was a remake of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, featuring colorized versions of the old Hitchcock intro segments. Third was The Twilight Zone, which for me turned out to be the most interesting and well-produced of the lot.
Producer Philip DeGuere (who was also behind another of my favorite series, Max Headroom) took a very different approach to updating the classic Rod Serling fantasy. Rather than a single, half-hour episode, he used a flexible hour format with two or three tales of varying lengths. In that manner, some stories could be developed fully, while others (particularly those entirely dependent on a twist ending) could get on and off the stage without unnecessarily stretching the gag.
The results were mixed, but the same could be said of the original Zone. Even a brilliant writer like Serling was entirely capable of penning a lousy episode or three. However, there were a number of stories that were entirely worthy of the Twilight Zone name, and others which arguably improved upon the formula, notably the love story Her Pilgrim Soul.
One appealing aspect of the ’85 series (as had been the case with the original) was its frequent use of sci-fi and fantasy short stories by known authors. Harlan Ellison (who also served as a creative consultant before an inevitable tiff over one of his shows caused him to leave) contributed several scripts, and Ray Bradbury wrote an episode (The Elevator) as well. Stories by Henry Slesar (Examination Day), Joe Haldeman (I of Newton), Arthur C. Clarke (The Star) and Roger Zelazny (The Last Defender of Camelot) were among those seen during its brief, two-season CBS run.
Struggling ratings killed it in its second year on the network, but it was revived in syndication for one year with the sole purpose of creating enough additional episodes to be sold as a package. Unfortunately, the syndicated half-hour version required many stories to be reedited (in some cases, expanded) to fit into the allotted time. The original hours have been unseen for nearly two decades, until now…
It’s great to finally be able to ditch my ancient off-air recordings and enjoy the ’85 Zone as it was meant to be seen. Here are some of my favorite episodes:
A Little Peace and Quiet. Melinda Dillon plays a harried housewife who is grateful for the peace offered by an amulet that can stop time.
A Message from Charity. A young boy inexplicably finds himself in telepathic contact with a girl in Puritan New England, and must save her from being branded a witch.
Her Pilgrim Soul. A scientist falls in love with a living hologram who matures from fetushood to old age in a matter of days.
I of Newton. Sherman Hemsley is a mathematician who accidentally sells his soul to a devil, and engages in a battle of wits.
The Misfortune Cookie. A critic gets his just desserts after unfairly maligning a Chinese restaurant.
A Small Talent for War. An alien arrives to tell humanity that he is disappointed with their warlike ways, and gives them 24 hours to change or face destruction.
A Matter of Minutes. A married couple find themselves outside of time, and encounter the construction crew responsible for building each individual second.
To See the Invisible Man. For the crime of being emotionally cold, a man is sentenced to “invisibility”: everyone he meets is required to ignore him.
Dead Run. A truck driver is hired to carry souls to Hell. I am amazed that this episode ever got to air on network TV, given its suggestion that God has contracted the Religious Right to determine whom is allowed into Heaven.
Button, Button. A couple will be given $200,000 for the simple act of pushing a mysterious button, which they are told will kill a person they do not know.
Second season favorites (not yet on DVD) include:
The Once and Future King. An Elvis impersonator travels in time and meets the King at the start of his career.
The Toys of Caliban. Parents are faced with the impossible task of raising a retarded child with the ability to “bring” any object he sees pictured.
Shelter Skelter. A survivalist is entombed in his shelter when a nuclear blast obliterates the town above him.
The ’85 Zone may not be as well-remembered or regarded as the original, but there are gems within for those who take the journey.
Last week, my friend Dave Lartigue sent me a list of the flicks he’d seen last year. Now, if you know Dave (and if you don’t, it’s your loss), you know that he does not, in general, like movies. So, it was perhaps no surprise that he’d only watched 11 films.
Inspired by his action, I compiled my own list, and found that I–someone who professes to love movies and who personally owns a ridiculous number of DVDs–had seen a mere 17 2004 releases. (Films which were initially released prior to 2004 aren’t represented on this list.) Here they are, in the order that they were issued:
There was a time when I would have to defend myself for having gone to movies that I strongly suspected would not be very good. In some cases, I did so with hope that the critics would be "wrong." (For example, I firmly believe that Starship Troopers was grossly misunderstood.) In other cases, it was simply to stay informed of what passed for sci-fi/fantasy at the multiplex. (Could I really discuss my loathing for Tim Burton’s Planet of the Apes without having suffered it first hand?)
Apparently, the mocking of my peers has had some effect, as has the general deterioration of the filmgoing experience. Shoddy framing, poor focus and talkative audience members have all dimmed my enthusiasm for shelling out eight bucks to sit in a darkened room, especially now that I have a decent surround sound system at home. Hence, my list is much smaller than it has been in years past.
With the obvious exception of Alien vs. Predator, I seem to have broken the habit of knowingly subjecting myself to lousy flicks. Since I was choosier than usual this year, there’s really nothing on this list that I can truly say disappointed me. (I knew what I was getting with Shrek 2, 13 Going on 30 and Ocean’s Twelve. All of them had their charms, at least.)
Sky Captain, predictably, was my favorite film of the year. It’s as if someone drilled into my head, sucked out the contents, and loaded them into a projector. I got to see it again on the big screen a couple of weeks ago, at the Virginia in downtown Champaign. It’s a big, old movie house that had gone into disrepair until being rescued by the local park district, and it’s the sort of theatre in which Sky Captain would have played if it really had been released in 1938. I absolutely love every moment of this flick. It captures all of the awe and wonder I can still occasionally feel in front of the silver screen, with a pulp sensibility that I adore. I fail to understand the hatred that it’s encountered amongst some members of the geek community.
As for the others, Spider-Man 2 finally unseated the first two Christopher Reeve Superman adventures as the best superhero film ever, and the third Harry Potter was the first in that series that I could truly consider really good, as opposed to competent. Hellboy wasn’t quite as good as it could’ve been, but it laid a firm foundation for what I hope to be a superior sequel.
I enjoyed The Incredibles, though it’ll take a second viewing before I can properly assign it a place within the Pixar hierarchy. (I suspect that it will fall somewhere in the middle.) I’d already been exposed to a lot of deconstructionist superhero stories, so some of the humor wasn’t as fresh as it probably was for the mainstream audience. That said, it did show a refreshing amount of depth, including some interesting points about conformity vs. superiority. Does treating everyone as "special" do society a disservice? Buddy/Syndrome was a surprisingly complex and evil character: his gadgets could have allowed him to become a legitimate superhero, yet he went on a murderous spree with the goal of pretending to be heroic. Elastigirl, rather than Mr. Incredible, was in my view the real star of the film, though that may be a Holly Hunter thing. Her cool in the face of danger (and sliding doors) was fun to watch!
A few decent comedies came out last year. Mean Girls was definitely a Tina Fey thing for me, but it had a good message and plenty of laughs. However, Dodgeball and especially Anchorman were outrageously stupid and thoroughly enjoyable. Anchorman‘s street
rumble between rival news teams is the most delirious, hilarious scene I’ve witnessed in a long time. (Steve Carell wielding a trident is an image that will stick with me!)
I’m not sure how to feel about Fahrenheit and Team America. I laughed a lot at the latter, but in hindsight feel that I may have missed the point. I initially viewed it as a parody of conservative wish-fulfillment, especially in way that Hollywood liberals were portrayed as quite literally conspiring to undermine America. However, later interviews with the filmmakers suggest that I may have misinterpreted their intentions. (Whether the film they made was the film they thought they made may still be up for debate.) Fahrenheit was effective, yet I wish that Moore could be a bit less of a self-promoter and a bit more honest with his work. Knowing that his enemies would pick apart every single word, he should’ve avoided the manipulative and misleading elements of his case. There’s plenty of real evidence of White House corruption without making any up.
So, that’s 2004. 2005 is looking promising. I hope to see at least 18 films this year!
Haven’t had a chance to update my blog over the long holiday week. Well, okay, perhaps I did have a chance or two, but somehow I kept getting sucked back into such diversions as Half-Life 2, a first-person shooter computer game that Vicky bought me as a Christmas gift.
I’ve never played the original Half-Life, so as far as I know, the name refers from the amount of time it took me to install five CDs, download the updates, create an online account, and wait for the damned thing to load. (My PC is well above the minimum specs for the game, yet the load times are still lengthy.)
Actually, coming into this cold simulates the experience of the main character, who is awakened by some creepy, suit-wearing alien into a post-invasion, vaguely European landscape in which jackbooted police and flying cameras monitor the tamed human populace. A little disorientation suits the mood; the player is trapped in a nightmare in which the other characters know him better than he knows himself.
The game veers through all manner of cinematic experiences, from a scary-ass stalk through a zombie-infested village to a firefight between a squad of resistance soldiers and faceless Combine troops. One of the best setpieces I’ve experienced to date involved crossing the underside of a massive girder bridge while being hunted by an alien helicopter.
The action is intense at times and the atmosphere can be downright frightening, except for one thing. You see, one of the extraterrestrial species is known as a “headcrab” because of its desire to engulf the head of a human host, turning it into a shambling corpse. All very creepy…or it would be, if the things didn’t resemble ambulatory Butterball turkeys! Having one scuttle my way reminds me that Thanksgiving is only 11 months away, and seeing one perched atop the neck of a zombie looks like nothing less than the episode of Mr. Bean in which Rowan Atkinson got his head stuck inside the neck hole of a plucked bird.
It’s a great game, and I can’t wait to get back to saving the planet. I can’t let those turkeys win.
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