23.11.14

Movie Review: Interstellar Overdrive

Space. The final frontier. Space is futuristic, no matter what the context. The eventual penultimate sequel of any series of horror film must end in space. Cheech and Chong went to space, Brian Blessed went to space, Michael Fassbender went to space, the potential future of humanity is seen to be in space. And it is with this sort of nostalgia for the future that the film Interstellar plays upon over the 190 million dollar blockbuster directed by Christopher Nolan out in cinemas...Now!

The film starts with actor Mathew Mahoney working as an uneducated farmer in New York city before catching a zip-line ride into a secret underground base and blasted in a rocket through the universe! The film pays homage to many classics of the sci-fi genre. Flight of the Navigator, The Last Starfighter, Man of Steel and 2001: Abe's Odyssey are just a few of the movies Interstellar 'parodies' for extensive lengths of its 120 minute running time. Mathew Majonnahugh literally weeps throughout the entire film as he battles ice beasts, alien planets and even Father Time himself as he goes on a quest to find the true power of love. I think the swashbuckling nature of the main characters in the film add to its charm. For instance, MacConeys crash lands his spaceship on an alien planet and stands in the water, leaning back slightly so that his six pack really pops in the light thrown from the binary star system overhead. He looks around at the horizon and his mouth slowly drops open, the cigar he was smoking falls to the floor.
"Those aren't mountains." he says, taking off his sunglasses that had reflected the tsunami approaching him to reveal the steely cool gaze of M.M. He runs back to his ship and clambers on top of it. "Here goes nothing." he mutters to himself, as the wave begins to hit him. The entire screen is filled with a wave and suddenly we see the star riding the spaceship like a surfboard. A Hans Zimmer soundtrack of surf guitars and organ music is so loud it literally rips the cinema screen to shreds and blasts the entire audiences heads back simultaneously. Another classy moment is when Mathew McConnaghey is playing bass guitar in his space pod, lazily rolling around and around as he plays a version of 'Space Oddity', letting the CGI hair and beard float around in the zero gravity. Space is shown as not being a glamorous place for super scientists, but a sort of hyper-industrial working class structure in which humans are disposable, which makes it glamorous again.

Nolan does it again with another terrific film that is so contemporary it will be looked back on as being a classic 10's action flick. Maybe you will understand Inception more after getting into the mad mind brain of Nolan. Film critics in the future will often talk about it fondly, just as we look back on Barbarella or Event Horizon. Scanning any nerds film collection one is bound to see either no science fiction or almost be entirely science fiction, because science fiction is the language of the future. You can barely walk anywhere now without seeing a Star Trek quote etched into a boulder or teenagers discussing The Prisoner on street corners as they share electronic cigarettes. By 2019 the world will be entering a time so futuristic it will resemble that of Blade Runner! Interstellar is less about humanity's literal place in the universe than it is a celebration of how much fiction influences civilization, it doesn't pretend to be real for one moment. If you move your head from side to side whilst watching you will see how the entire universe exists on a two dimensional shape. Most of the people in the film are even played by well known actors and actresses. How am I supposed to believe that the head of NASA is a scientist when I know that he is in fact Michael Caine, famous actor? Everyone in the film are stood around in clothes they don't own in a fake room saying things that somebody else thought.

One thing to take away from this film is its technological optimism in the face of democracy. People are dumb is the main message of the film, yet delivered in a audience driven market of Dumb and Dumber To and Nativity 3: Dude Where's My Reindeer it will be interesting to see how this sci-fi blancmange blemishes against the eye, blossoming the blood vessels around the iris like exploding planets around the films eponymous black hole; Megadrive. Regardless I will give the film 8 stars out of 10, go and see it, tell your friends about it, tweet about it. #seenit




17.11.14

The Wayne Factor

In the beginning of the 20th century Sigmund Freud proposed a theory in which a man would subconsciously want to kill his father and have sex with his mother. This was called the Oedipus Complex, named after the famous myth of Oedipus Rex, and was a cornerstone of psychoanalysis and, in turn, a building block that makes up contemporary society as informed through pop culture. I believe that we have entered a new paradigm, that in which a man wants to both be Batman whilst having his father as Batman. This is called the Wayne Factor.

The Wayne Factor is a more concentrated idea of Freud’s in that it examines the particular personalities of people who divulge in media starring Batman. It is estimated roughly 95% of the American population know who Batman is. Unlike Jesus or even Father Christmas, Batman transcends cultural and theological borders. Part of Batman’s success is in his name. Without even seeing him, you can image a man that is, at least in some way, like a bat and it is this whimsical image that makes him well known. With billions spent on superhero films every year, Batman is perhaps the most popular with Joe Q. Public who prefers his humanity moreso than that of the Ubermensch from Krypton, Superman. Iron Man and Captain America are both human and therefore popular, and so far it appears as though the superhero films contain relatively little superpowers when compared to their comic book counterparts. Instead they are films about men struggling for identity and deciding on becoming a hero, and exploring that theme ad nauseum. Yet who can really say they identify with either being a hero or wanting to be heroic? It is less the concept of what heroism means to the modern man than it is that these heroes can be idolised as potential saviours for those that need it. This anxiety stems from wanting to be rescued by one of your parents as a child and them failing you, which is one of the first steps in separating the concept of a parent from the person that is your parent. The conceptual parent then becomes an idol in which faith is applied to, which is common in religious people. I suspect religion itself came about due to the strong biological link between parent and child brought about by the helplessness of newborns compared to that of almost every other animal on the planet. In the life of an adult a child is a novelty, although to a child the parent is godlike. If a parent should fail their child, the child will then seek a new figure. For thousands of years this desire was manifest in a pantheon of gods. Now it has become Batman.

Consider Batman. Upon the death of both parents, billionaire Bruce Wayne trains all of his life and dons an animimal costume in order to fight criminals from a working class background. It is the costume itself that makes Batman who he is. This costume or ‘bat-persona’ is in order to mask the true identity of the wearer and so, by becoming anonymous, allows the potential in which Batman could be anyone. Fans of Batman often like to imagine themselves as Batman, perched on a tall building dressed in a cape, their muscular bodies protected against the battering rain by a second skin of body armour. At the same time they may imagine themselves victims of crimes and Batman arrives to save them. In the phantasy of the films this is Batman’s most useful skill, his ability to save people and in doing so he becomes a paragon of masculinity. If we consider a few attributes that we would consider masculine, such as physical strength, emotional resilience, fecundity and so on we can also see that these are attributes desirable for a father. It is the parental attributes of Batman that people probably find most appealing, hence his popularity amongst those who have difficult relationships with their own fathers. They love nothing more than settling into a folding-down seat with a box of popcorn, watching Batman loom over them in glorious 3D for hours at a time, trying to ignore the desperate need to be loved by an older man.

This brings us to the psychosexual elements of Batman. It is a common idea that Batman is a gay man, having sex with Robin at regular intervals in the batcave. Why not? I feel as though the idea of Batman being gay is so intrinsically tied to the metanarrative of Batman that this leads to a simple conclusion. The Wayne Factor of a person shows their inclination to desire sexual intercourse with their father whilst also being their own father, in order to have sexual intercourse with their mother. Also that during these acts, both parents are dead. The incestuous love triangle is complete and in the centre is Batman,
slowly rotating,
face hidden in the shadows,
his body pulses.

12.11.14

Horror Of Creek Mansion

It was a dark and stormy night when I arrived at Creek Mansion. The rain came down heavy on the car windscreen, the wipers sliced sights upward of the house I was to stay in that night. The billion dollar home stuffed with the latest technology was built on top of a hill overlooking the Yorkshire dales, isolated from the hustle and bustle of metropolitan life. Yet as I got out of the car and walked through the rain, I couldn't help but miss certain amenities living in a city offered. Strange things happened in the countryside. Things not reported on mainstream news, things that bore no witness. I took an envelope out of my pocket and ripped the top open. A plastic key-card lay in the cleft of the paper, I took it out and examined the design on the card. Every large electronics company had a secret division working on experimental prototypes, theoretical products that the public wouldn't necessarily yet want but was worth preparing for. The house I entered was part of one such programme, the Home of the Future. And I was to stay one night there.

The lights came on as I entered the front door, giving me my first glimpse inside. A sweeping marble staircase ran along one wall, drawing the eye to the elaborate plaster covings all around the ceiling, lit in a thousand reflections cast from a chandelier. Several corridors went off in various directions, the dark wooden floors leading off into the shadows. I removed my coat and placed it on a hat-stand by the door.
"Hello?" I called out. "Is there anyone there?"
There was no response. I walked across the huge Persian rug and through a hallway in front of me. I notice small black orbs in the ceiling. Cameras watched me. I pick the door nearest to me and turn the handle.
"Hello?" I say. Each wall switches on, bathing everything in a soft glow. A window unfolds and gives me a view of outside along with a large clock. Small projectors are stood at the foot of each of the huge, white walls. The only furniture in the room is a large red leather chair, a side-table and a bottle of red wine. A rotating circle appears on one wall dotted with symbols. I look away but find that the circle follows me. As if it is shining out of my eyes. A lot of the icons are similar to the ones I had on my phone, although there were just as many I didn't recognise. The minimalist designs were hard to decode, somewhere between hieroglyphics and Hangul. I reached out towards one.
~Welcome.~
"Hello. Can you hear me?"
~Yes.~
"Who are you?"
~i am the house computer.~ flashed the text. That made sense, in the future even computers would live in houses.
"I'm staying here tonight. Where can I put my bags?" I said, looking back towards the door. The lights had gone off outside.
~in your room.~
"And where is that?" With this, a 3D map appeared on one wall, showing a flashing red dot in a room upstairs.

The house was entirely silent as I made my way up the stairs and along the first floor mezzanine. A door at the end of the hallway was open. Things were moving. The walls seemed to bleed light across my vision like jets of ectoplasm, causing me to blink and jerk my head at the disturbance. I entered the room I was staying in, looking out of the window. Tree branches whipped backward and forward in the wind like waves of insect legs. I took out my dictaphone to call myself in the future. "I have arrived at the home of the future. There's a sort of crackling noise. It also doesn't smell of anything." I note.

I began to pace the corridors of the house, bursting my way into the various empty rooms lit by energy saving lightbulbs. The whole house appeared dim and almost sepia toned, the colours dripping in on themselves as I made my way round the maze like structure around me before arriving back at the main foyer. I was alone, yet knew that the internet of things made this a veritable wasps nest of wi-fi activity. The walls were thinking. I was inside a computer, an electric brain. I saw a silhouette in the darkness, which gave me pause. I watched at it dissolved in a cascade of entopic cells. Was my mind rotting or had I just seen a ghost? And in so seeing a ghost proving to myself that there was an afterlife, in which case I should spend as much time as possible with the ghosts in order to see what they're like? Why is it they spook people? Can't we work together in a metempsychotic utopia? I went back into the room with the chair and poured myself a glass of red wine.
"Computer...have you ever seen a ghost?" I ask.
~No.~
"Show me videos of actual ghosts on youtube, please." Against one corner several squares were clustered, each showing a silent video of ghost sightings. I raised my arm in the arm and selected several of the videos before flicking them out across the walls.
"Maximise." I said, pointing at one clip and throwing it to the centre of my view. It was of an empty room at night. Using a mixture of sign language and hand miming I paused the video, unrolled it like a piece of film and cut out a specific section towards the end in which a mysterious figure appears beneath the duvet. I mime using a magnifying glass.
"Where are you?" I scanned each frame individually before stopping. I could see an evil face peeking out from the side of the bed nearest the wall. Proof of paranormal activity.
"Computer, e-mail this to all of the newspapers with the title; Proof of ghouls. FAO Editor." I said, drinking the fortified wine. And so this went on for several hours, the wine bottle becoming emptier, my clothing being shed gradually so that I emerged from the cotton cocoon into full nudity. If I should be attacked by any being, actual or imaginary, it was best to be like Beowulf.

After a time I decided to go into the kitchen to make myself a midnight snack of booze.
"Kitchen, do we have any fruits?" I ask. The fridge lights up to show a video of the inside of the fridge. It is empty.
~Would you like me to order some food?~ came a voice.
"Sure. Order me a variety of fruit please." I say. A phone sprouts small wheels and drives itself towards me, flips itself over and shows the number for a local fruit delivery guy. Twelve pieces of fruit for ten hard earned bitcoins, what could go wrong? I picked up the phone and began to dial when a strange goo began to pour out of the receiver.
"That's strange." I remarked to myself. A sinister giggle happened behind me, causing me to turn. Nothing there. When I looked back at the phone in my hand I could see it had turned into a humanoid figure made out of an orange. I began to peel but dropped it when it began to bleed. The orange-man began to crawl away from me but I took the piece of peel and ripped it back, revealing an inner skeleton and nervous system made from pith.
"Kitchen, what's that supposed to be?" I said, picking up the orange-man.
~I tried to print you an orange using nearby matter.~
"What's this then?"
~50% man, 50% orange.~ came the metallic response.
"Where did you find the orange?" I asked. No sooner had I said it an orange bumped against my foot. It must have rolled across the floor towards me from beneath one of the cupboards. I knelt down on the cold floor and peered in the shadows.
"Do you have any grapes?" I asked. I could see for a moment the grinning face of a corpse, it opened its eyes and slime began to pour out. I reached under the cabinet for it and yanked it out by the neck, it had the consistency of wet cobwebs.
"Beware...beware..." it murmured, voice sounding as though it was gargling soup. I'd seen a few ghosts in my time, but never any ones that gave me fruit.
"What's the big deal? Where did you get that orange from?" I asked, laying the dead thing by the sink and washing some of the mud off it in the sink.
"Don't...don't go into the cellar..." it whispered.
"Why?"
"You'll die..." it whispered. I laughed at it, picking it up again and putting it in the fridge.
"I think you need to chill out ghost. What if I'm already dead? I should get to the bottom of this mystery."

I walked down the hall, knocking on the wall as I went. I'd found it, a hollow sound. There was a door that had been boarded up, probably when the computer systems had been integrated into the house. After looking around for a bit I found a knife and began to stab at the wall.
~What are you doing?~ said the computer from the observation room.
"Looking for ghosts or something."
~You shouldn't go down there.~
"Yes." I said. I kept stabbing and slashing at the wall until I'd made a hole big enough for my arm, I reached in and began to tear the panels back.
~Stop.~
"What will you do if I don't?" I said. There was no response. Suddenly all the lights went off. I could tell the air conditioning was a bit cold.
~I'll undo all your reviews on Netflix.~ said the computer.
"Do it. I keep a paper version anyway. Analogue, baby." I said, turning around and smiling over my shoulder at one of the ceiling cameras. With a final push I managed to make a hole just big enough for my body to fit through. The steps leading down to the cellar were cold against my feet. If I put my hand out in front of me I couldn't see anything.
"Hello? Is there anybody down here?" I shouted. After fumbling my way through the darkness for a while I finally found a lightswitch and flicked it on. Blinking in the abject brightness momentarily I then saw something that made me stop. My eyes were afixed to it.
"Oh..." I said quietly. My hand went back to the light switch and turned it off and I began to walk back upstairs, the hair on my neck standing up. I sat back in the silent observation room eating an orange. I hadn't blinked for hours, simply staring off into the distance. The thing in the cellar had etched itself onto my very soul. A horror.