Blogcritics Author: Boxclocke

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

The Lost Mind: Third Season Countdown

Boxclocke — Wed, 4 Oct 2006 07:19:24 EDT

The countdown has started.In 108 minutes (actually a little less than 24 hours) you must enter the numbers into the microcomputer processor (you must be watching ABC), or the timer will roll over into heiroglyphics (you'll miss the third season premiere of Lost) and, in all likelihood, the world will end (this is actually true).That's right, the hiatus is almost over. The first big chunk of the third season of Lost is finally going to air!The Internet is buzzing with anticipation: a back-and-forth battle between uploaders and ABC's C&D orders is taking place on YouTube over clips of the premiere episode, fan forums are ablaze with interview snippets and spy photos that reveal plot information, and Blogcritics' very own Jackie has put together a rundown of spoilers, rumors and speculation on the first three episodes of the season. Just so I'm not adding to the din of pre-season spoilerage (and because I'm trying to stay pretty spoiler-free myself -- you should, too, it's more fun!), The Mind is going to stay out of that game altogether, and instead, do a little retrospective reminding us of why we're excited about the new season in the first place. And so, I present to you:The Top Five Episodes of Lost (so far):5. "The Other 48 Days"The seventh episode of the second season is also the only second season episode on this list. But then, you probably saw that one coming. "The Other 48 Days" follows the survivors of the tail section over the same stretch of time we had been following the middle section folks. It breaks from the standard flashback format of the show by following the story of the tailies linearly.The opening image of the episode is the now famous long shot of a tropical beach, which quickly turns hellish as the flaming wreckage of the tail section smashes into the shallow water.Beyond the killer opening, which is a faster-paced (though less technically impressive) counterpart to the pilot's opening, the episode maintains the tension throughout with airtight, efficient storytelling and some downright oppressive sound design. It may also be the only episode of Lost that works as a stand-alone story. 4. "All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues"The eleventh episode of the first season may also be the most emotionally powerful episode of the season. Following the rescue party gathered to hunt down Ethan, who has taken Claire and Charlie, the episode shows us what makes Jack tick.And tick he does. In what may be the strongest flashback in the entire series, we explore Jack's working relationship with his alcoholic father, and what happens when Jack is forced to choose between telling the truth and saving his father's career. Pretty deep. And the heartwrenching scene as Jack tries so. damn. hard. to try to rescusitate a hanging Charlie is so good it's almost too hard to watch. Plus the kicker at the end where they discover a large chunk of metal on the jungle floor is plenty of fun.3. "Pilot"The one that started it all. Two years ago, almost to the day, the first episode of Lost aired to an unsuspecting nation. At the time, it was just another series premeire for the new season. It's by J.J. Abrams, you know, the Alias guy? That show's pretty cool. Plus one of the hobbits is in it. Not sure which one. Little did we know what we were getting into.The episode begins with the famous action-packed crash aftermath sequence, grabbing the viewer right from the beginning. It keeps the tension throughout, and establishes a variation on the island-flashback-island-flashback format every episode to follow would more or less stick to.From the crash, to the polar bear, to the monster, to the French broadcast, the pilot lets you know right from the beginning that this isn't your grandma's castaway show. By the end of the episode, we're right there with Charlie when he asks the now famous line: "Guys... where are we?" 2. "Exodus"The show's two-hour first season finale has received a fair amount of hell for its cliffhanger ending. I, too, rolled my eyes at the groan-inducing obvious final shot of the heroes staring down into the mysterious blackness of the hatch. Still, you can't deny it was a hell of a lot of fun getting to that point.The story is a set-up for the paradigm shift that is the beginning of season two, and is thick with reminders that, on Lost, nothing is sacred and nobody is safe (just a reminder: I totally called the hatch getting destroyed at the end of season two). From Arzt blowing up, to the weeks-in-construction raft being destroyed, to the kidnapping of Walt, everything in the episode lets us know that everything is about to change.Again, like most others on the countdown, the episode breaks from standard flashback format, showing us how all of the principals ended up on Flight 815 together. 1. "Walkabout"It never fails. You try to get somebody to get into the show, so you let them borrow your DVD set of Season One. Yeah, they dig the pilot. And, yeah, "Tabula Rasa" is kinda neat. But maybe they're still a little bit resistant to try to get into a new TV show.Until they reach the final episode on that first disc.Then they're hooked. "Walkabout," the fourth episode of Lost, has never failed to grab anyone by the balls. The Locke-centric episode has Locke boar hunting on the island, as well as revealing to the audience this badass great white hunter had a very tragic pre-island life. It also subtly breaks the established two-timeline format for a Lost episode. Rather than flashing back and forth between the island and before the crash, "Walkabout" exists on three timelines: the present, Locke's life at the box company, and the aftermath of the crash. The triple timeline is what gives the episode's climactic reveal of Locke's miracle the smartest storytelling gutpunch any scripted moment on network TV has given an audience in decades.And there's that. Think I'm wrong? Let me know what you're favorite episodes are.Remember, at 9 Eastern & Pacific/8 Central tonight, "A Tale of Two Cities" premeires on ABC. So, be sure you've cleared your evening, and are ready to kick back and get sucked back in.Lost is back, folks.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

Concert Review: The Polyphonic Spree in Austin, Texas

Boxclocke — Mon, 18 Sep 2006 09:31:36 EDT

For those who are familiar with The Polyphonic Spree’s live shows and have been to the outdoor stage at Emo’s Austin, the first question you may be asking about their set on Thursday night may be this: “How the hell did they fit a Spree concert into that sweatbox?” The second question you may then be asking is the first question of those who have been to one of the band’s gigs but haven’t been to the outdoor stage at Emo’s: “Is it true that they’ve lost the robes?” The third question you may ask is perhaps the most important one, being asked by Spree fans of all walks: “Is their new stuff any good?” The answers are: Claustrophobically, yes, and hell yes. If you’re completely uninitiated into the world of The Polyphonic Spree, a brief history: the band was formed in 2000 by former Tripping Daisy frontman Tim Delaughter, whose life was changed by the overdose death of bandmate Wes Berggren. The experiment in orchestral pop music blossomed in the following years into a two-dozen member band with a cult following (“cult” being the operative word, as the band performed all of their live shows wearing full-length robes) in the Dallas music scene. In 2002, David Bowie personally selected the band to perform at that year’s Meltdown festival. Since then, their popularity has grown, their music has appeared on TV commercials and film soundtracks, and the band itself has performed in such varied places as the Nobel Prize ceremonies and an episode of Scrubs. Any attempt to describe the sound and vibe of the Polyphonic Spree would include words like “orchestral,” “psychedelic,” “gospel,” and “groovy,” but would ultimately fail to accurately characterize the band. One thing most people can agree on: they’re a hell of a lot of fun to listen to. Because sometimes – indeed, a lot of the time lately – musical escapism isn’t just something to listen to, it’s the best thing to listen to. The Spree isn’t universally loved, however. In 2004, Entertainment Weekly named their sophomore album the second-worst album of the year after William Hung’s Inspiration. Their Flaming Lips-meets-Bryan Wilson sound has netted the band such lovely descriptors as campy, artificial, and, my personal favorite from a friend of mine, “like bubbles without a cause.” Art, I suppose, is subjective. But I’ll take Bowie’s word over EW’s any day of the week. Which brings us to Thursday’s concert. It had been two years nearly to the day since I had seen the Polyphonic Spree at their last gig in Austin, and in those two years, I had not seen another live show that quite so effectively electrified the entire crowd. Perhaps the Spree’s colorful aesthetic is just nicely in tune with the funky “Keep Austin Weird” character of the city and her music fans. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, as I arrived at the grungy, low-ceilinged, poorly-lit, glorified shed of an “outdoor stage” at Emo’s how the colorfully-robed, fun-loving Polyphonic Spree that I loved would work at this location. As soon as they took the stage, though, I realized that the question was moot. In the first hint that this isn’t the same cute Polyphonic Spree, the band appeared not in the long robes that had become their trademark, but in military-inspired blue uniforms. This is a new Polyphonic Spree. They have become the title of their upcoming third album: the Fragile Army. And it is the material from this third album that dominated the concert. While the new stuff retains the richly layered, groovy high energy of the band’s previous work, the sound is much more serious than anything they have done before. Bubbles no more, this band’s grown balls. There’s a reason for this: The Fragile Army is a political album, and I imagine it’s hard to be as chipper as the old Polyphonic Spree when you’re facing off with the greatest killjoy since the age of the Vietnam-era acts that inspired the band: the presidency of George W. Bush. Go ahead and take “hippie-ish” out of the list of inadequate adjectives for the band and replace it with “politically active.” Tim informed the crowd at the show that he felt it was time for a “revolution,” and that The Spree was going to be “the soundtrack for that particular endeavor.” Rallying the band’s musical power around a concrete idea (as opposed to, say, semi-nonsense metaphors about the sun) has given the band’s massive musical power focus and clarity. Their new sound is denser, more urgent, rocks a little harder, and it has – dare I say it – serious mainstream appeal. I would seriously bank on The Fragile Army, when it finally sees a release, being a substantial hit. As for the show itself, it was every bit as entertaining as the one two years ago. Not since P.T. Barnum has there been a showman as engrossing as Tim DeLaughter. But DeLaughter is no charlatan. He genuinely believes in the power of the music he’s leading, and he makes sure that everyone in the crowd (of which, I suppose, the EW guys were never members) believes it, too. His drill-sergeant/cheerleader/choir-director/schoolteacher shtick may verge on being a bit over the top, but if that’s going to be an issue, you’re probably at the wrong concert. But if Tim’s antics are over-the-top, then there are no words for the percussionist who, in a bout of crowd surfing began crawling on the rafters (low ceiling, remember?), at one point accidentally tearing out an electrical conduit and sending a brief shower of sparks down, giving everyone terrifying thoughts of Great White. As I said, the bulk of the show was new material. And while the crowd loved singing along with the familiar stuff – we especially got into “When the Fool Becomes a King” – the new stuff went over very well. The melodies are catchy, and though the miserable acoustics of the venue made it hard to pick up much of the lyrics (I know I’m harping on this whole Emo’s thing, but, God, do I hate that stage), it was clear from the little pieces that I could discern that the sunshiny poetry has been toned down and replaced by honest expressions of frustration with the status quo. As much fun as the new stuff was, the band’s encore was a welcome return to old school Polyphonic Spree material, and was almost identical to the encore from the last tour (there’s one nice surprise in the encore that will please long-time fans, but I won’t spoil it here). One interesting new inclusion to the encore set was Nirvana’s “Lithium,” which the Spree really makes their own. They rounded things out with, as usual, “Light and Day,” and when that was over, Tim asked if we wanted to do it again. Of course we did. They played “Light & Day” twice. To bring us down from the resultant euphoria, the band asked everyone in the audience to have a seat (made some new friends) and listen to a long harp solo to end the evening. It was a wonderfully soothing punctuation to a night of rocking out. Thursday’s concert proved that the band’s nearly year-long talk of a change of image and an exciting, political new album was more than just promotional rhetoric. They have taken the wide array of musical tools they’ve been experimenting with for years and brought them together into something amazing. They've addressed the issue of being perceived as bubble-gummy that has netted them some derision over the years, by firing back with a solid, edgier sound. The Polyphonic Spree used to be a band of huge musical power. Now, they’re a band of huge musical power and focus. If you thought the first two albums were remarkable, you’re ready for a treat with the upcoming release of The Fragile Army. If you’ve never been a fan, this may just be the one to win you over. Either way, once the next tour starts, go see them live. Do it. Travel however far you must to see the show nearest you. I promise, you won’t regret it.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

About This Lamont Thing: An Open Letter from the Democratic Base

Boxclocke — Mon, 14 Aug 2006 04:34:08 EDT

Dear Democratic Party:Hi. I am a voter. Remember me? I'm not so sure you do. You haven't been answering my calls. Or any of my friends' calls either. In fact, to be honest, I sense a real breakdown in communication between you and us voters. It's almost as if there are two Democratic Parties: one for voters and one for office-holders. It's a sad state of affairs, I know, especially when you consider there are so many more Democratic voters than there are Democrats in office. But it's what I wanted to write to you about today. I still think we can fix this.You've been real quiet lately. Quiet in that sad sort of a way that lets me know you're thinking about something, but you don't want to say what it is. Maybe it has something to do with the other guys in your office. You know, the ones who say that if you stand up for something, it means you're an extremist and that you hate America. Maybe you've started to believe it. I hope not. I really hope that, even though they barely outnumber you in that building, you haven't forgotten the millions of people who think they're wrong. Because, there's more of us than there were before. In fact, we outnumber them now.Which brings me to what happened in Connecticut last week. Yeah, about that...some of you guys seem kind of upset. I'm sorry about that. Not sorry about Lieberman losing, we did that on purpose. I'm sorry it upset you. That was the opposite of what we wanted to do. We wanted to get you guys motivated. Because we are motivated, and, well, you're not. For the Democrats (by that I mean both you, the ones in office, and us, the voters), this should be our year. The voters are ready for some serious change in this country, but you're still acting like it's December of 2004. You're still licking your wounds, scratching your heads, and staring at the ass that got handed to you with a look of stunned confusion. It's not a good sign of the state of affairs when a majority of us voters would rather choose the unknown than the status quo. It's even worse when the powers that be can't see the writing on the wall and decide to stick with status quo; a lack of definition, a dejected acceptance of irrelevance compared to the other guy. "Democrats: We're Not Republicans" failed as a party slogan in 2004. It isn't going to work this year either (in part because the new Republican slogan is "I'm Not One of Those Republicans"). So about this Lamont thing. It wasn't a triumph of the blogging community. It wasn't a slap in the face to Lieberman and only Lieberman. It was us voters standing up, going to the windows, sticking our heads out and yelling, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more!"But more than that, it was us trying to communicate with you. We expected to see you run to your windows and yell it back at us. However, it's been almost a full week now. We're one week closer to November and we haven't heard you say so much as "wait, you're mad?" We've been waiting since before the summer's state conventions for you guys to prove that you have a message, to show some national party unity and prove you're not just the other guys on the ticket. The mood is downright sour in this country. We want something to rally behind. When the conventions proved less than inspiring, we decided to show you that if you can't give us something to rally behind, we'll show you we have something to rally against. In Connecticut, voters proved once and for all that this country doesn't just want change; they demand it. Here are a couple of statistics: George W. Bush has an approval rating of 20% among Americans aged 18-24, a demographic in which Democrats have often seen strong support. Among voters who identified themselves as Democrats, over 80% are against the war in Iraq. The people who voted for Lamont last week aren't, as many people have said and some of you seem to think, a fringe minority of liberal extremists. If the pro-war, Bush-buddy candidate Lamont was up against wasn't an incumbent, it would have been a landslide. The inertia (or is it Joementum?) of an 18-year incumbency and national name recognition was overcome – in the primary – by the vast majority of Democratic voters believing that something is very, very wrong with the leadership in this country, and that problem isn't just limited to the Republicans.This might be alarming to some of you. You might think it means we're mad and don't want to talk anymore. Well, we are mad. But we don't want to be mad at you. Like I said, I still think we can fix this. Before Connecticut, I think many of you felt complacent to simply watch the Republicans self-destruct so that you could move quietly into the power vacuum. Well, now you know you can't do that anymore. This bitter sentiment in the country isn't an anti-Republican one – it's an anti-incumbent one. And if you can't run to the windows of the Capitol between now and November to tell us how mad you are, then the only part of the building you're going to get to see is the visitor's gallery. I imagine you'd be pretty mad at that point.So, let's get this thing working again. Let's hear those ideas you have hidden behind those sad faces. Let's get a dialogue going on that isn't just anti-Bush, anti-War, ant-Republican, but is actually pro-Democrat. Let's make the Democrats into a political party again, what do you say?We're ready; and I think more of you are ready than you're letting on. It's time for some party unity and some party identity. The voters are telling you what the Democratic party we'll vote for looks like. Now it's your turn to show us that you – all of you – understand. It may be a little late in the game for a full on Contract-with-America-esque sort of re-definition on your part, but we'll take what we can get. But only if you give it to us. I'm looking forward to hearing back from you guys on the new and improved Democratic party, where the leadership is on the same page as the voters. More importantly, I'm looking forward to election day, when each and every one of us jaded, frustrated, America-loving Democratic base voters are going to get to speak to you about whether or not you've succeeded. As for where to begin, how about a new slogan: "Democrats: We're not Joe Lieberman."

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

The Lost Mind: The Sophomore Slump and Adventure on the Horizon

Boxclocke — Wed, 9 Aug 2006 02:40:58 EDT

Guys... listen...We need to talk. You may not like this, but I think we all need to come to terms with a certain reality.Now, before you accuse me of blasphemy and stop reading, know this: I still think that it was the best show on television last season. I love Lost. I'm never going to stop loving Lost. But I don't think anyone would deny that the show suffered something of a sophomore slump. Let's face it: the second season was, overall, not as good as the first.I mean, yes, it started off great, with the whole mystery of the hatch and all. And it finished strong what with Michael killing people and the electromagnets and all that. But you have to admit that the middle chunk was kinda, well, slow. Maybe you disagree, and that's fine. I know it's sort of a big deal to think of the show in negative terms. Maybe you just need some time to digest it. In the end, though, I think it's better for both us and the show if we're honest with each other.Why am I mentioning this now? It's not that I think we should start seeing other shows on Wednesdays. Hell, I love our Wednesdays together. I'm saying this now because I have reason to believe that it's only going to get better from here. What makes me say that? The Comic-Con panel. Unless you've been living in a cave for the last few weeks, you probably heard something about a Lost panel at Comic-Con on July 22. And while the internet Lost fanbase has been buzzing about how the Q&A session -- featuring executive producers Damon Lindelof (who did nearly all of the talking), Bryan Burk, Carlton Cuse, and actors Jorge Garcia and Daniel Dae Kim -- was interrupted by the "star" of the online mystery game, Rachel Blake, what I found most interesting was the way the shows creators hinted at a return to the character-centric, adventure storytelling that made the first season such compelling entertainment. Throughout the entire Q&A (which you can listen to here) there was a subtext of change on the horizon. These guys knew that there was a bit of restlessness in the fanbase. They weren't going to be okay with it. One of the many things that fascinates me about the show is the dialogue between the creative forces and the fans. Rather than lock themselves up in a Hollywood version of the ivory tower, the writers seem to keep in touch with audience reaction and respond to viewer feedback. Whether face-to-face by means of a Comic-Con Q&A session, or through the more informal podcasts, the series' head writers and executive producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse reveal themselves to be down-to-earth, fan-conscious writers. No other major network drama's creative team would put itself in a position where they could be confronted, as the CC Panel was, by someone asking about the show's less-than-stellar number of Emmy nominations, "Were you surprised? Because I wasn't."While I think that maybe that particular fan was a bit out of line with her question, I don't entirely disagree with her general premise: season two was not as consistently good as season one. In response, the writers blamed the shift in tone and the drop in the number of Emmy nominations on the addition of more sci-fi elements to the show. It may be true that sci-fi tends to turn off awards folks, but I don't think that it's the addition of a sci-fi angle to Lost that caused the narrative fatigue of the middle chunk of the second season. Adding sci-fi to great television shouldn't mean quality takes a hit. Was Lost screwed for Emmy nominations? Absolutely. It is certainly more deserving of the best series nomination than the increasingly irrational 24, and how Michael Emerson's performance as Henry Gale escaped awards notice is beyond me. Still, I think that the effort made to set up the mysteries of the DHARMA Initiative burned up a lot of the dramatic momentum the first season had built up. Combine that with an inevitable amount of complacency from the first season's success, and you're naturally going to see at least a marginal decline in the quality of the show, especially the character work.Take, for instance, Jack, who in the first season is the island's reluctant hero, the passionate, pragmatic cowboy with daddy issues. He spends much of season two shouting at Locke for "finding it so easy to believe!" ...um, okay? Or how about Sawyer, who in The Long Con basically became a caricature of himself, telling us, again, and without any clear motivation, what we already knew: he wants people to hate him.Perhaps the best example would be Locke. It's Damon Lindelof himself who at the Comic-Con panel describes what went awry with him. "Here's a guy who in season one... knows all the answers, he's on an axis of destiny, he finally feels like the island has provided him with the answer." Not to mention a he's little bit on the crazy/creepy side, which is always fun to watch. But in the second season, not so much. Instead of boar hunting, Locke wants to push a button, but then gets burnt out on that. Gone was the clever man of mystery with the ulterior motives. Locke became the island's resident grumpy face. Damon says in the Q&A that Terry O'Quinn was "very frustrated" by Locke becoming... well, frustrated through much of the season. "Sometimes as writers we have to frustrate the actors in order to tell the larger story," says Damon. He doesn't let on that he knows that us fans were getting frustrated too. It's not especially exciting to talk about the way parts of the second season became kind of humdrum; we already know that. But what is interesting about the mea-almost-culpa on the part of the writers is it shows that they know that we know that. And they promise that season three will be different."It's a new pilot every year," says Damon, explaining that every season, the show gets re-invented with the purpose of telling one particular section of the larger Lost story. So far, season one was an ensemble survivor story, and season two was a puzzle-laden serial with sci-fi elements added into the mix. It's no surprise that with these new elements being added that some fans felt they'd been delivered a sort of bait-and-switch. I know that when I so totally called it back in March that the Swan would get blown up (I'm never going to let that go), it was partially wishful thinking. The question posed by the hatch was "what is this air-conditioned, artificially lit, compound with bed, bath and kitchen?" But always in the back of my mind was the nagging follow-up: "and what the hell is it doing in the middle of my castaway show?"Fortunately for us, the writers have their fingers on the pulse of the fanbase. When the second season was all said and done, Damon says he was aware that there was a sense among the viewers that it was "too mythologically dense, [and] the show is getting too complicated. So, we have to re-adjust."It's significant that he says "re-adjust," not plain old "adjust." It means that, in some way, the show is reverting. But what is it reverting or re-adjusting to? What element of season one is going to come back that will make season three better? "We're really excited about season three," said Damon. "It's going to be vastly different-feeling than the two seasons that preceded it, but at the same time we're sort of re-embracing the roots that we love about the show." It's a promise of change, and an indication that the he realizes the show has strayed from where it originated from. That alone would be good enough for me. But then he says something exciting that made me realize what had been missing in the second season, and what we're going to get reverted to. "There's going to be a lot more adventure elements in season three."Adventure! That's it! That's what had been missing from the second season. A sense of adventure! Sure there was mystery, sure, and drama, and the occasional bit of peril, but almost no adventure. But perhaps more exciting is what Damon had to say about a discussion he had with Terry O'Quinn regarding the future of the Locke character. "[O'Quinn said] 'I want a knife in my hand and to kill things again,' and we said, 'Oh, you'll get your knife back, John Locke.'" He said it with a hint of gleeful menace. Carlton almost told him that he can take that to the bank. But he didn't.ABC has put out a (somewhat spoilerish) press release announcing that production has officially begun on season three in Hawaii. Hopefully, they've gotten everyone together to watch the first season DVD's in a sort of back-to-the-roots boot camp. Hopefully the whine-factor will have been exorcised from some of the principal characters. Hopefully the directors will be less afraid to go for those really long lenses, and remember to show some scenery, because they're on FREAKIN' HAWAII after all! Hopefully, Michael Giacchino, now that he's not also scoring Alias, will be able to focus on creating the kind of compelling musical material he wrote for season one ("Hollywood and Vines," anyone?). Hopefully, the show follows through on its promise to bring back the adventure. I say hopefully, but you know what? I don't doubt any of these things are going to prove to be true. If what little we've heard about the third season pans out, I think we have reason to be excited. October can't come soon enough, because God knows the Lost Experience isn't what it used to be either. But that's fodder for another column. ... Oh, and I'm glad we had this talk.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

The Inaugural Lost Mind: "Live Together, Die Alone" Revisited

Boxclocke — Sat, 29 Jul 2006 09:47:45 EDT

Lostaways, conspira-spies and Drive Shaft groupies rejoice: Blogcritics.org has a new column: The Lost Mind!I will be writing in as frequently as possible to get you caught up to speed on the latest happenings in the world of the Lost, along with my own brand of commentary, and, once the new season starts, give you weekly episode recaps. Of course, I know I'm not the only one out there doing this. Due to the fanatical following the series has, there are already about a million different places online to get your Lost fix. So you're probably wondering what I plan on bringing to the table to hold your attention for the time you should be spending configuring the Numbers onto a grid, or brushing up on your Dickens, or practicing your anagrams. What's my hook, my angle, my gimmick, my schtick? Well, if you're looking for major spoilers, celebrity drama, or "OMG Clare+Charlie=<3 4Evr," then look away. But if you want commentary on the production aspect of the show, studies of the mythology and story, and critiques of the episodes from someone with a screenwriting background, then you've found your man. And I've found an audience. And that's all we really want. Now, onto the matter and hand:This week, the last week of July, marks roughly the halfway point of the summer hiatus. We're midway between the May 24 airing of the second season's finale, "Live Together, Die Alone," and the October 4 airing of the third season premiere, "A Tale of Two Cities." And what better excuse is there than a halfway point to revisit some of the mystery and excitement of the season finale you have TiVo'd? Now, this is not intended to be an end-all, be-all collection of theories and tidbits about the episode. If you want a recap, or a comprehensive list of fan theories and other details, visit the episode's page on LostPedia. This is a chronological breakdown of some of the smaller curiosities that stood out to me in this repeat viewing. Stuff that I (and perhaps you too) might have missed the first time around while being baffled by the bigger stuff like the four-toed statue, but that I caught this time and can't quite shake the feeling that they're pretty significant to the story as a whole. If you've got a (legally obtained, of course) copy of the episode at hand, it might be fun to follow along. If not, here's a transcript. Right after the first commercial break, Desmond says "we are stuck in a bloody snowglobe." Sound familiar?Desmond mentions "hostiles" on the other side of the island rather offhandedly to Sayid. Inman mentions them later. Are these "hostiles" the Others? Is it Rousseau? Someone else entirely?Libby mentions that her husband David "got sick." Any correlation to the injections and the Quarantine on the island? This lends credence to my theory that Libby has already had some experience on the island or somehow knew the plane was going to crash. I intend to write an entire article on that one in the future. You know, I'm seriously beginning to think that the nets with the doll-traps aren't Rousseau's.Upon second listening, that bird definitely did say his name. This moment is so out of the blue from the rest of the show, that my guess is that it is the see-the-monster-without-knowing-it moment that Damon and Carlton mentioned in the official Lost podcast before the show aired.The Simpsons have four toes on each foot. I'm just saying.So "Radzinsky made some edits" to the Orientation film. Does this have something to do with Kelvin considering the Others to be "hostiles"? By the way, I really don't think that the stain on the ceiling is Radzinsky. If it is, Inman killed him. But Radzinsky didn't kill himself.Much has been made of the identity of the person that Sawyer shot. I think it's pretty clear that he's not an "Other" in the traditional sense. Personally, I'm in the camp that says it was Marvin Candle. How could he be the same age now that he was in 1980? Well, duh.Hurley confronting Michael here is weak. Jorge does his best, but Hurley's just not very well written in this moment. In the post-episode podcast, Damon and Carlton admitted that this was probably the weakest scene in the episode, and since so much else had to happen in it (they deal with shooting a guy, they deal with Michael's betrayal, Jack explains he has a plan, etc.) Hurley's anger just sort of gets blown off. I'm inclined to agree that this is the weakest scene in the episode, but Hurley never gets a moment in the rest of the episode to show that anger. He had better be pissed off in the season premiere.Desmond was discharged because he "couldn't follow orders." Is that a flashback set-up or what?Eko says "open the door and I will forgive you." Locke gives a confused look before asking "forgive me for what?" Eko is a (sort of) priest, after all. It's part of his job to forgive sinners. I think that there is some other-worldly, religious thing going on with the Swan hatch and the button-pushing and the key-turning. I don't know what, but more on that later...What of the seemingly abandoned Dharma station that Sayid finds? Since we don't really see much of Sayid any more after this point in the show -- much like we didn't see the raft folks after the attack on the raft in "Exodus" -- so my guess is that, like the rafties at the beginning of season two, we'll double back to explore more of what happened here within the first few episodes of season three.Something must have moved the pile of pneumatic tubes. The way they were scattered about suggested that they had to have been interfered with, since if they all fell out of the pipe so close to the ground, they wouldn't have spread out like that. Something here isn't what it seems. Plus, if these are coming from the Pearl, what is the source of the vacuum?Kate reads the phrase "0400 SR moves ping-pong table again," off one of the journals. My guess is that the "R" in "SR" is Radzinsky.The whispering in the woods before the heroes get ambushed is worth mentioning because in one of the podcasts, Damon and Carlton carefully choose their words in describing how the whispers relate to the Others. They say that "we have been led to believe" (or something like that) the whispers are connected to the Others, which all but confirms that they are not.The cheesy dot-matrix, sprocket-holed paper printout from the old computer equipment is exactly the kind of printout I deal with at my job (it's a shitty job). Let me tell you, the way those printers break down all the time if you're not careful, there is no way the Pearl was unmanned on 92204.The half-deaf sound design when Charlie wakes up is what got the show nominated for the Sound Design Emmy. Did I mention that the show got screwed for Emmy nominations? 'Cause it did.In what has to be the least subtle historical/mythological reference in the history of Lost or, indeed, television as a whole, a character named Penelope promises to "wait for you always."In another moment that has me thinking there is something religious going on with the button-pushing and key-turning in the Swan, Des holds the keychain rather like a rosary when he's looking up to Locke at the hatch in the flashback. I'd dismiss it right away if he didn't later cross himself with the keychain, suggesting that he is indeed a Catholic, just before he turns the key.Not-Henry is the only one who looks like he knows what's going on when the sky turns bright white. White, mind you, and not violet as Clare says.By the way, I totally called it that the hatch would get blown up way back in, like, March. The losties went an entire season without having a hatch, and in the anything-goes take-nothing-for-granted style that Damon and Carlton and company have created this world... well... anything goes, and you can take nothing for granted. Especially something like shelter. Charlie is acting really odd when he gets back to the beach. Could be a head injury, but when he says of Locke and Eko "they're not back yet?" it makes me wonder if he had some sort of spiritual experience with those two when the key was turned. Or, if there is no head injury and there is no spiritual experience, then it's just more awkward writing for the episode. Plus we know that Desmond, Locke and Eko are in season three, so wherever they are, they'll be coming back. You never get a full shot of Walt. Presumably because Malcolm David Kelly isn't as young as he was back in the summer of '04. Damon and Carlton said at Comic-Con, however, that the issue of Walt's growth would be addressed, and they also suggested that time may pass differently on the island than in the rest of the world.The number 7418880, which appears on the screen of the remote station computer, is 4*8*15*16*23*42. But you already knew that, right?And there we have it. A second viewing of the second-season finale of Lost: "Live Together, Die Alone." Liked what I have to say? Have theories of your own about the finale? Think I should never do this again and it was a stupid idea? Let me know. I'd like for this column to be fairly interactive, letting your comments guide what kind of stuff appears in the articles. So, comment away. What else are you going to do with your time, look for code fragments?

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

Movie Review: Lady in the Water

Boxclocke — Tue, 25 Jul 2006 07:16:56 EDT

Allow me to get a few things out of the way up front: I love M. Night Shyamalan movies. I think Signs is an amazing popcorn sci-fi suspense movie, Unbreakable may be the perfect blend of cinematic realism and superhero mythology, and The Sixth Sense is such a solid, tightly written Hollywood thriller you could teach a semester-long class on the script alone. Hell, I even dug the creepy weirdness that was The Village, in spite of its unevenness. As for Shyamalan himself, I think he is a very talented storyteller, with a keen visual sensibility, a great sense of timing, and a knack for making movies that are both fun to watch and quite moving. I also think he has become a very insular person, and as a businessman and public figure, he thinks far too highly of himself and takes things far too personally. I do not believe he is a one-trick-pony egomaniac, and I do not believe he is the next Alfred Hitchcock. I think he is a guy who has made some damn fine movies. I mention these things because, for whatever reason, opinions of M. Night Shyamalan's films have gotten downright hyperbolic and opinions of the man himself seem to be clouding reviews of his new movie, Lady in the Water. Since it seems many filmgoers (or at least, many critics) can't separate their opinions of the filmmaker and his history from their opinion of Lady, and since people seem passionate and polarized on the whole Shyamalan thing, I decided to get it out of the way up front and let you, the reader, decide whether I sound like-minded enough that you will want to hear what I have to say, or disregard me on general principle and hit the "back" button on your browser. Still here?Good.Lady in the Water is not as bad as you may have heard. It's just not nearly as good as it should be.The film, as the marketing has no doubt told you, is presented as a "bedtime story." It is a self-contained fable where ordinary people – the tenants of a Philadelphia apartment complex – find themselves having to act out the roles of characters of a mysterious myth when a water nymph named Story (Bryce Dallas Howard) appears in the swimming pool. The trouble with all of the original mythology is it is all being explained in rich detail and without an ounce of subtlety as it is playing itself out. There is a complete lack of prescience to the way things unfold: we don't get the joy of anticipating what's going to happen, or a moment to soak in what's going on, we just hear someone talk about it. And boy, do they ever talk about it. In order to explain the mysterious Story and set up her world, there is a hell of a lot of ad hoc information-spewing going on. Since so much energy is spent on explaining things like "scrunts" and "kii" and "the great eatlon," it leaves next to no time to help establish characters or lend weight to the situation. In all the fuss to get us up to speed on what is going on, someone forgot to let us know we're supposed to give a damn that it's happening. The movie is over before it's done setting up its own back story. For all there is to criticize about the film's awkward delivery, a lot has to be said for its earnestness. Giamatti and the apartment complex's band of merry misfits sell the hell out of the gee-golly factor, and the cave-painting prologue, which roots the story in the world of ancient myth, gives the proceedings a primal resonance. Filmscore buffs will no doubt be purchasing the James Newton Howard score, which is as rich and epic as anything he's composed in the last year – and this guy scored King Kong! Folks looking for scares won't be disappointed. There are a couple of really great jump-out-of-your-seat moments in Lady in the Water, delivered by the bedtime story's big bad wolf, the "scrunt." But know this: it's not a horror movie. It's a fable about letting go of your jadedness and your inhibitions and being open to the fantastic. However, the theme of anti-cynicism, while a wonderful theme to explore, is pounded into you in such a way it's hard not to feel a little bit cynical acknowledging the lack of subtlety. The movie makes you feel bad for not loving it.I'm not sure if that's the nicest or meanest thing to say. I always enjoy seeing an established filmmaker try to break the mold. Alternative storytelling forms and non-traditional narratives excite the hell out of me. But when someone is as good of a traditional Hollywood storyteller as Shyamalan is, seeing him cast his talents aside for such a spectacular misfire as this is really disappointing. In a amazing bit of irony, there is a scene in The Sixth Sense where the boy, disappointed with the Bruce Willis character's overly-linear bedtime story, tells him "You have to add some twists and stuff" to make a bedtime story any good. It's good advice. People have thrown around phrases like "Miyazaki-esque" and "jaw-dropping catastrophe." Neither is correct. It's a disappointment, and a failed experiment, but it isn't a movie I am willing to outright tell you to avoid. This was Shyamalan's vanity project. But hey, there had to be a Hook before there could be a Schindler's List (or, hell, a Jurassic Park). Hopefully, he's had the fun he wanted to have with this one, and with the next film he can go back to letting the audience have theirs.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

Pessimists Prime: The Internet Already Hates Michael Bay's Transformers

Boxclocke — Wed, 19 Jul 2006 09:38:28 EDT

It sounds more like something out of Entourage than anything that could possibly be true. Steven Spielberg gets the rights to produce a mega-budget movie based on the Transformers toys of the '80s, and hand-picks Michael Bay to direct.It's too surreal a production to possibly be taken seriously, and you can be guaranteed the filmmakers themselves are not. It's Snakes on a Plane to the nth degree from the granddaddy of cinema pop and the sultan of the slo-mo explosion. It's a multi-million dollar tongue jammed so hard into the cheek it's leaving a bruise. Transformers. A live-action motion picture. I don't care one tiny little bit about the franchise, having simply missed that boat as a child, but nevertheless, that silly-ass teaser trailer makes me smile. This may be the first time I have ever actually been looking forward to a new Michael Bay movie.But strangely enough, it seems like a whole bunch of people are really upset over this thing. On movie forums and talkbacks all across the Internet, there are countless people posting furiously venomous complaints about the production, about the changes being made to the designs of the robots, and about the fact that it's not taking the history of the franchise seriously. A full year away from the release date, and the entire Internet already hates Michael Bay's Transformers. It's as if the vast majority of the geek population was suddenly rendered incapable of appreciating irony.Now, believe me, I've earned my geek cred. I went to the midnight screenings of, among many others, Spider-Man 2, Revenge of the Sith, and King Kong. I've passionately argued the finer points in the Batman versus Superman debate until I was breathless. I've gotten into a Simpsons' one-liner quote-off. And I've won. But it was always just for fun. I simply cannot wrap my mind around the way people are getting so serious and upset over this project. Take a deep breath, folks. It's a movie about a toy franchise."But Boxclocke," you say, "it's not a toy franchise. It's a long-running epic saga spanning two decades of books, television, and film! Have you seen the original movie? They say 'shit' in it!"Well, yes, though I am too young to have gotten into the original series and too old to have paid attention to the countless 1990s reincarnations of the franchise, I am aware that there have been Transformers' series on the air for over twenty years now. And, though I've never owned more than maybe two or three of the actual toys, I have seen the 1986 movie where they do, indeed, say "shit." But the significant thing about that movie is the fact it does take itself so seriously, when it, by no rights, should. And while you can maybe get away with a movie with characters named "Cyclonus," "Kickback," and "Galvatron" in animation without a lick of irony, trying to do so in live action would be a disaster along the lines of 2004's Thunderbirds.And as for it not being a toy franchise, well, a little trip through a history book (read: Wikipedia), as well as an iota of marketing savvy, should make it pretty clear that, although a rather complicated history was created for these characters, TV entertainment was never the ultimate goal. Anything outside of the toys themselves was just a synergistic ploy to sell the toys. It's the Pokemon of the '80s. To be honest, I'm surprised that people who really do care about the franchise aren't happy to see an incarnation of the characters as more than just a thirty-minute commercial.Perhaps it seems like I'm picking on the people who are so worked up over this movie. I don't mean to be. Hell, I love getting into it about movies. But my point is simply this: By all means, be passionate about the movies. By all means, discuss and debate your fandoms. By all means, hate on Michael Bay. But, keep it sane, and keep it civil. If playing with the toys as a kid used to make you smile, well, feel free to smile at this upcoming movie. It's just the Transformers, alright? Nothing more than meets the eye.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

Comic Review: DC Comics 52 Week Ten

Boxclocke — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 10:36:35 EDT

For nine weeks, DC's 52 has been about how the world has been dealing with the disappearance of the world's greatest superheroes. More specifically, it's been about how a number of characters usually relegated to the periphery of the DC Universe have been filling the void in their own ways. Unencumbered by the gravitas associated with Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, the writers for 52 have managed to (usually) give these characters exciting and entertaining stories, and even managed to make me care about (many of) them! So, when the cover art for Week 10 that hit the Internet -- with a color scheme completely different from what went to print -- suggested a Clark Kent-centric story, I wasn't sure what to think. Well, the short version is this: it kicks ass. The issue begins in Khandaq, where Black Adam (Remember him? Elf ears, frowny face?) has rallied together representatives of member-nations and potential member-nations of his coalition, when he is interrupted by the girl Intergang presented to him, what, a month and a half ago? She's trying to escape and, in doing so, busts right through the soiree for the stern-faced. Perhaps it's just that it has been such a long time since we dealt with Black Adam's storyline, or perhaps it has something to do with a fictional -- and completely "safe" -- story about military tension in the Middle East being off-putting in light of this week's real-world headlines, but for whatever reason, these segments of this week's issue just seem vaguely uninteresting. On day 2, we find ourselves at the office of the Daily Planet, where Clark makes his first multi-panel appearance in the entire series. I'm a sucker for a great scene at the Planet, and let me tell you, this scene just crackles. Perry is throwing newspapers and raking Clark's ass over the coals for failing to beat the Daily Star to the punch on the story about Metropolis' newest superhero, the so-called "Supernova." He also gives him a fair amount of hell for cutting himself shaving, a cute little reminder that the Man of Steel's powers are still sapped. The scene weirdly parallels a moment where Clark has arrived late to work in this week's new Superman #654, but I digress. Perry fires Clark for seven weeks of failing to live up to his usual work just as Clark looks out the window to see Supernova flying by, and, in a moment of Lois-esque brazen recklessness, leaps out the window, eliciting a "Great Caesar's ghost!" from Perry. Supernova, naturally, catches Clark, saying "Easy, mister, I've got you." The nod to the 1978 Donner film borders on being too nudge-nudge-wink-wink, especially in light of the recent release of Superman Returns, and leaping from windows in order to grab an interview seems a bit out-of-character (or perhaps not), but still, it was very cool to see what the Man of Steel is up to now that he can't be the Man of Steel. Also, continuity fiends will be pissed/pleased to acknowledge that Clark's Band-aid disappears. Back to Khandaq, where it has apparently taken an entire day to carry the escapee back to her room. Or at least it seems that way, as a throwaway line by a guard mentions "24 hours in the holding cell." Black Adam comes in to speak with her, looking a hell of a lot like Tommy Lee Jones at the bottom of page 11. He tells her that she is free to leave at any time, which she decides to do right! this! instant!, but stops short to tell him off for the flaws in his "Freedom of Power Treaty," call him a terrorist, and lonely to boot. It's actually a very well-written scene that shows the young lady (a look seven issues back reveals her name to be Adrianna, though there is nothing this week to remind us of that) to be very much Black Adam's equal in terms of fierce personality and mental prowess. Looks like there's a Black Eve in somebody's future. Now if only somebody would bother to explain what exactly the Freedom of Power Treaty is, I might be able to really enjoy these Black Adam segments.Back in Metropolis for day 3, where Lois is... throwing newspapers and raking Clark's ass over the coals. I wonder if this is all that has been happening to him for the past nine weeks. Lois tells him that people are still "freaked" over the state of affairs, post-Infinite Crisis. This kinda bugs me, because in the first few issues of 52, you really did get a sense that people's worlds had just been turned upside down. The storytelling was frenetic and everything smacked of post-traumatic stress. It was part of what hooked me into the series. Now, we just get told, in dialogue, that people are "freaked." It's hollow. After a few more cute bits with Clark forgetting he's not invulnerable, Clark flashes back to his experience with Supernova, where some "Bahdenian terrorists" (catch-all word for villain this week) hijacked an ATV. Supernova not only stops the terrorists, but also manages to keep a kid from falling. He is, according to Clark, on-the-level. Day 4 hooks us back up with Booster Gold, who is having to move out of his fancy apartment do to lack of funds. He's pissed off, and kind of funny. I just wish there had been more of him this week. Before he gets too comfy in his downgraded digs, he (finally) decides it's time to investigate what exactly is wrong with the space-time continuum. Which brings us to day 6, and the last two pages of this week, where we have our monthly Magnus/Morrow meeting. Magnus has gotten to pick through the belongings of Dr. Sivana (misspelled "docter" on the last page - come on, you can do better than that, guys) where he found an empty cocoon, and Morrow is keeping some kind of secret. O-o-o-kay. Finally, the follow-up feature, "History of the DC Universe," has its second-to-last segment this week, and fails miserably at trying to summarize the events of the lead-up to the Infinite Crisis. Overall, it's a big improvement over last week. Snappy dialogue and a lack of contrived fight scenes make this one of the more human entries in the series so far. Returning artist Chris Batista's pencils are also more dynamic than the work of Week Nine's Shawn Moll, but the colors are still just flat, flat, flat. We still didn't get to see any Dibny, and since next week looks to be "the Batwoman issue," we might have to keep on waiting. Still, a good issue this week, restoring what little I had lost of my faith in the series.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.

Book Review: Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Boxclocke — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 05:41:44 EDT

I got around to reading Yann Martel's Life of Pi in the past few weeks. The book has been out for something like four years now, and I've been wanting to read it ever since I first heard of it. Finally, after years of, for whatever reason, not reading it, I grabbed my little brother's second-hand copy of the hardcover edition and got reading. Warning: Spoilers ahead...I'm a big fan of a good high-concept adventure - a story where the basic premise can be easily described in a couple of words, and those words sound pretty amazing. The "high concept" behind Life of Pi is this: "Kid. Tiger. Lifeboat." Awesome.Author Yann Martel's voice is unique, clever, and decidedly Indian. The novel is like a Bollywood musical: rich and colorful, swinging like a pendulum from the depths of tragedy to surreal comedy in mere paragraphs. It makes for an exciting read, but also makes the whole effort seem slightly unfocused.I've got a thing for good survivor stories, as well as a bit of a thing for high-seas adventure, as well as a bit of thing for stories about humans co-existing with animals -- not in a cutesy sort of way, but more in a survival manner -- and especially with big cats. So, naturally, I was drawn to the "kid, tiger, lifeboat" book. Life of Pi, however, is more than just "kid, tiger, lifeboat." With the exception of the occasional flashback/forward, we don't even get to the lifeboat until a little over 100 pages into the 300-page novel.The entire first third of the book is told as a kind of memoir of, well, the life of Pi, our hero, in Pondicherry. His father ran the zoo, his father's friend was a swimmer, he was named after a swimming pool, he is a Catholic, a Muslim and a Hindu. It's all fascinating, and at times very clever, but it has next to nothing to do with the events on the boat.We learn that the family is moving with many of their animals to work at a zoo in Canada, our novel's device-of-choice for sinking a boat full of animals. And once we're on the lifeboat, things still never quite become exactly what you might expect. Besides our hero and the tiger, there's a zebra, an orangutan, a hyena, turtles, and several species of fish including sharks in and around the boat during the middle chunk of the novel - and nearly every one of them meets a rather bloody end. For a fairly long stretch of the novel, we simply follow Pi and his arkfull of creatures as food supplies slowly run out. It's actually very interesting, and Martel's prose is elegant and beautiful throughout, but the plot never really sufficiently thickens. Boy is hungry, tiger is hungry, bloody death of an animal, feed the tiger, feed the boy, lather, rinse, repeat. Things do get interesting and borderline sci-fi when Pi stumbles upon a giant floating island oasis made entirely out of algae, but it's like a tease almost, making you wish that more of the book had been so bizarre and fantastical.We are told in the novel's prologue that this is a story that will "make you believe in God." Spirituality does indeed play a major role in the pre-lifeboat segment of the book, but is never fully paid off, even at the novel's end where Pi is being debriefed by Japanese businessmen who owned the boat that Pi's lifeboat came from. There's sort of a twist at the end in which we learn that the amazing story of Pi's survival with the tiger may have been a fabrication he created in order to deal with the trauma of what really happened. It leaves the matter open to the reader to decide what to believe, providing evidence that could go either way. But, like so much of the book, the revelation seems disjointed. Nothing that happens before it establishes either Pi to be a storyteller or a theme of truth versus fiction or anything to get paid off here that would make it seem like anything more than a twist ending for the sake of a twist ending.Overall, it was a good read, but after four years of gently hyping it up in my own mind, I was a little disappointed - perhaps more than anything by the fact that the "kid, tiger, lifeboat" story was really anything but. The novel has been showered with awards and there are more than 1,000,000 copies in print, but I think that more than anything it owes its success to that three-word premise so clearly spelled out by the book's jacket art. That is some gorgeous art, by the way.Lesson learned: book, cover, judge not.A film adaptation was in the works by M. Night Shyamalan, but that got scrapped. Then there was one by Alfonso Cuaron, but he too moved on. Jean-Pierre Jeunet is now the man in charge of the adaptation. I would have loved to have seen Cuaron's version, because I know he would have played the fantastic stuff very straight and very dark. I also really wish Night had stuck around, too, because his would have been the "kid, tiger, lifeboat" story I had so hoped the book would be. But if anyone can pull off the richness and bizarreness of this novel with full cinematic gusto, it would be the French.A side note: I'll bet you anything that in 20 years or so, Life of Pi will be required reading in high schools all across the country.

Boxclocke is the pseudonym of Baylor Johnson, a student filmmaker and screenwriter at the University of Texas at Austin. His personal blog is The Boxclockery, part of The Workingchair.