Thoughts on another Trilogy (Lord of the Rings)

Unlike the Matrix, I did not watch the three LOTR movies back to back within a 2 day span. I rewatched FOTR (4th viewing) in October, TTT (5th viewing) in December and ROTK (3rd viewing) on the 4th day of Chinese New Year. In any case, I think the LOTR trilogy would make a more cohesive viewing experienced if watched back-to-back, than the Matrix films. The quality is much more even, although the movies do stand as distinctly separate in terms of plot and theme. Viewed as a 3-Act piece, there is a logic to the structure and flow of the plot and character development, which cannot be said of the Matrix movies.

I have not read the Tolkien novels, fantasy not being a favoured reading genre, especially if the novels are set in imaginary lands. I did not watch these movies with any expectations of how faithful they would be to Tolkien's vision and narrative. I watched them as I watch most movies, for entertainment, and hopefully, for the kind of awe-inspiring experiences that are so unique to the cinematic arts. For me, the LOTR trilogy has these in ample amounts.

Most critics rank FOTR as the best of the three films, followed by ROTK and TTT bringing up the rear. Most fans favour ROTK, then FOTR and again, place TTT in last place. Unlike most, my favourite by far is TTT, with FOTR and ROTK tying for second.

The Fellowship of the Ring
This movie was tasked with the difficult undertaking of introducing not only characters, but the entire structure of Middle Earth, with its many beings, of which Man was only one. This could have meant a lot of boring exposition. There was a lot of exposition, but none of it was boring. I liked the buoyancy of the initial scenes, and the optimism that stayed with the Fellowship right till the last scenes when they were separated.

Of course, there was the marvelous cinematography as New Zealand was unfolded before our eyes in all its glory. The element of fantasy was strongest in this first film, perhaps because this was before the bloody battles necessarily took centre-stage. There was truly something woundrous in the scenes in the forests and the home of the elves.

Best of all, the movie was true to its title. There was a real sense of friendship and camaraderie amongst the Fellowship. And Sir Ian McKellan is just brilliant.

The Two Towers
My favourite of the three. On paper, this should be the most handicapped instalment. The characters split up so that there are actually three plots going on, two of which don't meet until towards the very end, and one which remains disconnected throughout. And yet, I thought it was so well paced and edited that the underlying theme of good vs evil was ever present, and it didn't feel like I was watching 3 disjointed stories. Gollum is ingeniously animated and voiced; and in many ways, the most interesting and complex of the characters. I thought the battle scenes at Helm's Deep were terrific, not just in scale but also in the brilliant pacing that made the final victory seemed all the more triumphant and inspiring.

It is a middle movie and has no real conclusion and yet it ends most satisfyingly. There is a sense of doom as Frodo and Sam gaze across the dark landscape at Mount Doom. And yet, there is that rush of hope in the wake of victory at Helm's Deep and at Saruman's Tower. We know what has happened and what is to come as we look forward to the final film. This is how you make a middle movie. The makers of Matrix Reloaded should take copious notes.

And Gandalf in this movie? Makes wizarding look cooler than being king.

The Return of the King
This is an appropriately rousing and wonderful ending to a great trilogy. It's the longest of the three movies, but it covers so much ground that there isn't room for longeur. I have my minor quibbles with Frodo's dazed, trance-like state, which started to annoy at the 1 hour point (I know this is portrayed as written in the book, and I think Elijah Woods is a fine actor, but he did make Frodo seem rather wimpy) but this is nothing against the narratives of the rest of the Fellowship, especially loyal, brave-hearted Sam.

I think it's interesting how there are many parallels between ROTK and Matrix Revolutions, besides both being the last film in a trilogy. Both have a character (Frodo, Neo) going to a remote location (Mount Doom, Machine City) with a loyal companion (Sam, Trinity) to accomplish a task. The fate of civilisation (Middle Earth, Zion) lies in the hands of this protagonist. While he is away, those he leaves behind fight great battles (Mirnas Trith, Zion) against marauding forces (Sauron's army of Orcs and other assorted uglies, the Machine's many tentacled sentinels and other assorted uglies). Both protagonists sacrifice themselves for the cause (Neo loses his life, Frodo loses himself) and accomplish the task of saving the world.

So many parallels, yet such a drastic gulf in quality between the two. Ultimately, Matrix Revolutions was an enjoyable enough action movie, rather too enamoured with its own cleverness and glitz. ROTK was a movie about the will to leave and the spirit to survive. Where Matrix Revolutions tried to be clever, ROTK succeeded in being inspired.

The scene in the end with Aragon saying "My friends, you bow to no one", and everyone bowing to the four hobbits? Has never yet failed to make me tear up. This is a story of heroes (and heroines, with Eowyn doing her share) and heroic acts. For all the razzle and dazzle of the big battle scenes, I like that it's the small acts of courage that we most remember. Merry sticking it to Sauron's right-hand man (whatever his name might be), Pippin climbing the beacon tower, Sam fighting the spider and carrying Frodo. Even with Legolas and Gimli, the scene that sticks with me is when they insisted on going with their friend Aragon into the mountains. Aragon's own finest moment was not in the battle field, but when he spoke of going to battle against the forces of Mordor, to buy Frodo and Sam more time. And Gandalf, despite all the ass-kicking, staff-wielding and military commanding, will be remembered most for his kindness to Merry and his compassion for Frodo. I tell you, Sir Ian McKellan is just the coolest.

Thoughts on a Trilogy (Matrix)

Over the Chinese New Year period, I watched all three movies of the Matrix trilogy on DVD, over a span of 2 days. When seen back to back, the decline in quality and coherence was even more apparent than when I watched Reloaded and Revolutions in isolation. On the other hand, the last 2 instalments became somehow more bearable when the plot is followed through till the end. I still think these were excruciatingly overblown and preposterous, but perhaps this is magnified when they are seen in isolation.

The first movie, a few years on, is still landmark movie making. The writing was intelligent and even the psychobabble catch-phrases (Free your mind. Be the spoon.) were consciously clever enough to rise above the corniness. Trinity looked great, Morpheus was super-ultra cool and Keanu Reeves' impassive acting style (or if you like, his limited range) was perfect for the role of a character adjusting with bewilderment and wonder to his destined greatness. The plot was ingenious; it ended at the just the right place and left so much room for development.

Matrix Reloaded was an overly long and could not make up its mind whether it was trying to be an action movie, a cryptic noir film or a deep meditation on the meaning of being. Uneven pacing, however, was the least of its problems. The most unforgivable aspect of Reloaded was the screenplay, which was full of dialogue so insufferably self-important, I wonder how the actors kept straight faces. The writing was too consciously trying to be clever, as if the writers were nudging us at the end of each line and asking, "was that not clever?" Well, I found it mostly mumbo-jumbo. Words that appear meaningless are not necessarily cryptic. Sometimes, they ARE meaningless. I would like to think that the screenplay was written with some meaning in mind, even if it's not apparent. Otherwise, it's just plain laziness. Defenders of the film have argued that it is a strength when everything is not black and white, when questions are asked and not answered and each viewer can apply his/her own interpretation to it. The problem is that the entire mess is so meaningless, there really is nothing to interpret. The only question asked, and which is readily answered, is "Isn't this a load of crap?"

There is a lot that I did not like about Reloaded. The "rave" scene at Zion has been much maligned, and justifiably so. That was just completely unecessary and added nothing to the movie. Still, this was just a few minutes in a very long movie, and one can always fast forward to the next scene on the DVD. One cannot fast forward the encounter with the Architect, and the exposition in that scene, which completely betrays the mythology established in the first film. Mathematical anomaly, my foot! And that ridiculous "sacrificial" scene where Neo chooses to save Trinity instead of Zion. Suddenly, the movie turned into The Greatest Love of All (black leather edition).

Then we had the third and final instalment. A far grander name this time, Matrix Revolutions. I was so disgusted with the second movie, I actually thought the third was a slight improvement. Not that this is praise by any means. Having destroyed the magic of the original so thoroughly, they could not really do much worse, although they did try with the scenes in the "in-between" train station. This movie relied a little more on old-fashioned action-movie cliches (Niobe piloting the ship through the treacherous mechanical line, Link's girlfriend helping the underaged volunteer to open Gate 3 in Zion, the battle scenes, the sentinels chasing the ship) and a little less on the stilted dialogue of the 2nd movie. That was good, or at least better than the abysmal standards of Reloaded.

What was not so good was the resolution. Neo sacrificing himself to save Zion was perhaps not unexpected, but this was not anti-climatic because it was expected. It was ant-climatic because that eventuality was telegraphed the moment Trinity died. At that stage, we still had 20 minutes of Smith and Neo engaging in cheesier than comic-book fighting. All that slow-motion stuff became quite boring. Everything also seemed to be larger than life, as if flying higher, bigger holes in the ground and brighter flashes in the sky are somehow indicative of a great galatic battle. World War 2 had nothing on these 2 as they heaved and hoed their way through an unattractively dark version of the Matrix world.

Which brings me to the production values. They spent a lot of money on the 2 sequels, and it tells, but could they not have designed something more appealing? The metalic tentacled mahines were ugly and not in the good way of conveying evil (like the Orcs and Urukhais in LOTR) but in the bad way of just being unpleasant to look at. Zion was supposed to be impressive, I think, with all the panning camera shots trying to established the vastness and depth of the construction. However, the colours were so dull, and everything looked bathed in dust and coated by tarnished metal. The scene in the first movie, when the camera panned to reveal the field of "batteries" was so much more effective, genuinely chilling and spine-tingling in a way that the sequels never came close to replicating.

Even sadder was the loss of spark in all the lead actors. Keanu Reeves seemed still stuck in apprentice mode and was not totally convincing as someone confident in his own abilities as The One. Lawrence Fshburne was not even half as cool as he was in the first movie, which I think was due to the poor writing for Morpheus' role in the sequels. We had gotten used to seeing Morpheus as the patriach figure, and here he was being reduced to the rebel captain (who lost his girl to the anally retentive Commander, unthinkable of the first movie's Morpheus!) regarded with suspicion by his peers and superiors. And Carrie Anne Moss fares the worst of all. She had lost so much weight, she looked haggard. And Trinity's role in the third movie was relegated to strong, long-suffering love interest, albeit a gun-wielding, kung-fu kicking one. It was as if the movie could not sustain more than one bad-ass female character and Niobe had filled that vacancy.

All in, I wish the sequels had not been made. Without the sequels, people will continue to exercise their imaginations and speculate about its mythology and what The One was meant to do. Now, that is truly asking questions and letting the audience find their own answers. Without the sequels, The Matrix could be remembered untainted as a classic. This will still be its legacy, I hope.

The Booker Prize Project (Part 3)

The Booker Prize Honour-Roll 2001-2004

2001 - Peter Carey, True History of the Kelly Gang
I started reading this, and could not get through more than the first few pages. Again, it seemed to be one of those cases where I could appreciate the craftsmanship behind the book, but not the finished product. I think it was the story-line that I did not find particularly attractive (although as an Australian alumni, I have great affection for tales of Australia's history and lore).

2002 - Yann Martel, Life of Pi
A slim book, this one, and yet I could not sit down to finish it. There is something disconnected about it, like reading a complicated product manual that is jargon filled and which you don't really understand. To be fair, I have not gotten further than the first few pages, so this is an impression formed on relatively short acquaintance.

2003 - DBC Pierre, Vernon God Little
I just bought this book and plan to read it after I finish Cloud Atlas and The Line of Beauty, from the 2004 Booker nominees list.

2004 - Allan Hollinghurst, The Line of Beauty
I am reading this now. So far, it's a tumultous romp, very uninhibited and yet written with great control. The depiction of drugs and homosexual liaisons may be disturbing to some readers (and they feature rather prominently) but Holllinghurst knows how to use these to further his plot and construct his character, rather than just adorning the book.

In Summary
There are a fair few Booker winners that I have not read yet, especially the earlier ones. Of the more recent winners, I have attempted to read most but have not always found them to my liking. I suppose that a book-lover does not always love ALL books, not even prize winning ones.

I have been looking at the lists of nominees, and I have read a number of those that did not go on to win the Prize. In some instances, I may even venture to say that I have enjoyed these more than the winning books (or at least, have been motivated to read the non-winning nominees, while the winners were not appealing enough to get me started).But that's for another post.

The Booker Prize Project (Part 2)

The Booker Prize Honour-Roll: 1991-2000

1991 - Ben Okri, The Famished Road
This is a strange one; it's a book that I keep thinking I have read, when in fact I have not. It has since become a classic and is on my reading list.

1992 - Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient
- Barry Unsworth, Sacred Hunger
I have read both books and own a copy of Sacred Hunger. I found Barry Unsworth's remorselessly dark and ultimately, a depressing read. There is no doubting the strength of his narrative line and the clarity of his prose, but the tale of slavery and greed was not entirely to my taste. I am glad to have read it because of what it had to say about the corrupting power of capitalist imperialism.

The English Patient, the book, is such a different animal from The English Patient, the movie. The book moves at a different pace, driven not by the doomed romance of the movie but by the unique voices of its cast of characters. I found this a fascinating read, cleverly constructed and written with great imagination and flair. I liked that Ondaatje was not afraid to make his protagonists unpleasant and sometimes unlikeable, something which the movie sought to do, but not as successfully.

1993 - Roddy Doyle, Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha
I was given this book as a birthday present. It took me a fair while to finish reading it. I can appreciate the cleverness and the humour, but this book failed to strike a chord with me. I cannot remember anything about it, apart from struggling through many of the early chapters, adjusting to the Irish vernacular that peppered Doyle's writing. I recall this as being earthy and honest (and I suppose, authentic, although I am not in any position to really know) and somehow not quite my cup of tea.

1994 - James Kelman, How Late It Was, How Late
1995 - Pat Barker, The Ghost Road
1996 - Graham Swift, Last Orders

Not read. Frankly, I know nothing of the James Kelman book. The Ghost Road was much acclaimed when it was released. It was a book I passed up on because it seemed rather bleak. It is, after all, about the culture of death in Europe. I think I may try to read the entire Pat Barker trilogy if I find the time, now that bleakness is not so entirely off-putting to me anymore.

Last Orders was supposed to be a sad book, from the blurbs at the back. I rarely seek out sad books, no matter how acclaimed, hence this was a book I skipped. I don't know that I have change my mind since then, so this book may not get read for a while yet.

1997 - Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things
I bought a copy of this book, on the strength of its Booker Prize win, which was much reported in the local press due to the winner being an Asian. I read the first half of the book in a couple of sessions, so riveting did I find Roy's narrative. Thereafter, my reading pace slowed considerably as I found the story turning somewhat predictable and the prose taking a rather florid turn. The early chapters were fascinating in their descriptions of life in India, including the mundane details of domesticity and work. Roy was particularly effective in depicting family relationships and the customs of South Indian society, The love story was touching, yet at the same time, it was the one element in the tale that made the larger story seem more hum-drum, to me. In all, though, this is a fine work which I admired greatly for its skill in weaving a mystery into an exploration of human behaviour.

1998 - Ian McEwan, Amsterdam
1999 - J M Coetzee, Disgrace
Both not read. I remember reading the blurbs and thinking tha these were not the types of books that would appeal to me. Despite the subsequent award of the Booker Prize, I was not tempted to change my mind.

2000 - Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
I have not read this yet, but hope to do so. I had only recently discovered Margeret Atwood's work by reading The Handmaid's Tale. That was truly a chilling, gripping read.

The Booker Prize Project (Part 1)

This is an attempt at a feeble and high non-scientific experiment. What I plan to do is to go through the list of Booker Prize winners throughout the years (and nominees, in a separate exercise) and see how many I have read and of those, how many has left any impression on me at all. This may say something about whether prizes, especially one so prestigious as the Booker, actually get awarded to books that have longevity in the minds of typical readers. Not that I am sure I count as a typical reader, but I do read a lot, so I am at least an avid reader, if nothing else.

The Booker Prize Honour-Roll: 1969-1980

1969 - P H Newby, Something to Answer For
1970 - Bernice Rubens, The Elected Member
1971 - V S Naipaul, In a Free State
1972 - John Berger, G
1973 - J G Farrell, The Siege of Krishnapur
1974 - Nadine Gordimer, The Conservationist and Stanley Middleton, Holiday
1975 - Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, Heat and Dust
1976 - David Storey, Saville
1977 - Paul Scott, Staying On
1978 - Iris Murdoch, The Sea, the Sea
1979 - Penelope Fitzgerald, Offshore
1980 - William Golding, Rites of Passage

"Heat and Dust" is the only one of these early winners that I have read, although I plan to get my hands on Nadine Gordimer's book, plus Iris Murdoch's and V.S. Naipaul's. I read "Heat and Dust" after watching the screen adaptation, which was very tastefully done. RPJ writes very evocatively, like many Anglo-Indian authors. She successfully conveyed the atmosphere of Colonial South Asia and the book spoke with an authentic voice through-out.

The Booker Prize Honour-Roll: 1981-1990

1981 - Salman Rushdie, Midnight's Children
Not read. And probably may not make a special effort to read it. I have tried reading the Satanic Verses, which is brilliantly crafted, but Rushdie's style somehow leaves me cold.

1982 - Thomas Keneally, Schindler's Ark
I read this after watching the Spielberg adaptation for the large screen, which remains one of the most haunting films I have ever seen. The movie reduced me to tears. The book was less emotionally wrenching but had details and layers that were necessarily left out in the movie. To me, these details enriched the remarkable story of Oskar Schindler. Of the books I have read set during periods of war, this remains amongst the most memorable.

1983 - J M Coetzee, Life & Times of Michael K
1984 - Anita Brookner, Hotel du Lac
1985 - Keri Hulme, The Bone People

All of the above are not read. Anita Brookner is in the "plan to" list. The Bone People has excellent reviews, but I would need to go to New Zealand again in order to work up the motivation to read it, I think.

1986 - Kingsley Amis, The Old Devils
I loved "Lucky Jim". And I think I may have read The Old Devils during my period of reading English comic novels. I certainly remember reading Difficulties with Girls and the story line for The Old Devils sounds mighty familiar. Sadly, I can't confirm if I have read the book, which probably means it wasn't all that memorable. Notwithstanding that, Kingsley Amis was a genious.

1987 - Penelope Lively, Moon Tiger
1988 - Peter Carey, Oscar and Lucinda

Both not read. I frankly know nothing about Moon Tiger, having not heard of the book before I began looking up the list of past Booker winners for this project. It does sound like the type of book that I would enjoy, being about families and having flashbacks to war-time Egypt. I borrowed Oscar and Lucinda from the Library once, and left it unread until I had to return it. I must get around to it someday.

1989 - Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day
A book I have read three times. I love Ishiguro's control over the English language. He writes so lucidly that it seems that the butler in the book was speaking directly to me as the reader. The restraint in the writing mirrored beautifully the character of the protagonist. This is a book that defines novel writing.

1990 - A S Byatt, Possession
This is a beautifully written book; A.S. Byatt shows that she is a craftsperson that uses the language of prose to recreate the lyricism of poetry. The plot device was a little too "clever" for my liking, but the pace never dragged and my interest was held from beginning to end of a rather long novel.