Sunday, September 10, 2017

X-Men 2: The Novel

     I approached this book with a healthy amount of skepticism, since I've read more than my fair share of poorly-written, blatant cash-grab novel adaptations of films I've liked. Typically, the narration inserts internal monologues that make me have to sit and wonder who on earth thought McCoy was completely non-athletic or wondering why I needed a whole paragraph about Taranee envying Cornelia's non-existent bust. (Star Trek: Into Darkness and W.i.t.c.h., respectively)


     However, with X-Men 2, I was pleasantly surprised. It seems to be based off an earlier script than what was used for the movie, although for the most part, the variances are minor. I suppose it helps that Chris Claremont, who is pretty well-known for his work on The Uncanny X-Men, was the writer. There seems to be a decent grasp on characterization, at least to my understanding of the way they are written in the movie. (While I have read some of the comics, in this case, I think it's best to look at how they were portrayed onscreen) I actually felt that Jean Grey was greatly enhanced from her movie portrayal, since her internal monologue allowed for a much better look at what was going on in her head.

     And of course, more attention was given to Nightcrawler and Storm, again, largely because the point of view switching and use of internal monologues in places helped bring them a little more focus compared to what they might have gotten in the movie if you weren't paying attention to them already. An example might be the scene in which Kurt begins his introduction just before he and Storm go into Dark Cerebro. While I had thought introducing himself that way was an ingrained habit, the book offers the interpretation that it's an attempt to diffuse the situation due to being flustered and overwhelmed by the request to teleport, as well as the tension between everyone. It may not have been my first interpretation, but I found it to be a valid one that could match with the way he's portrayed in the movie.

     While shipping and subtext are sometimes an issue with any X-Men series, I found that the novelization offered a surprisingly nuanced portrayal of the relationships between characters. The Cyclops/Jean Gray/Logan love triangle has always been a bit of a low point for me in the original trilogy (though ironically, the first two films are my favorites in the series). However, because of Jean Gray's extended internal monologue, as well as Logan's, add a lot more to the whole debacle besides just "I flirted with the bad guy and took home the good guy." It even goes as far as to tie in that triangle with the interesting little mess of Rogue/Logan/Jean Gray, with a lovely nonverbal moment in which Logan comes to a greater understanding of Rogue. I thought this was nice, since a lot of times, the central love triangle took up so much attention in the films that we didn't get enough time to look at the other relationships in the series, such as Rogue's implicitly one-sided crush on Logan, Rogue with Bobby, or, of course, Kurt and Storm. These two especially get more than a few good moments, whether flirting out loud, Storm coming to a realization that Kurt is flirting with her, or simple nonverbal gestures between them. My personal favorite at this time would have to be just after the attack by Jason Stryker through Dark Cerebro. Nothing is said between them, but the way in which they comfort each other before quickly moving on to check on the children is absolutely beautiful.

     The biggest difference between the novelization and the film, the main reason I think it might have been based off an earlier script, the reason which you may have heard of this book before now, is because of the ending. A character who sacrifices herself in the movie opts for a different method of rescue in the book. While I was hoping for the book to provide some insight into why she thought it was "the only way," I think it makes a little more sense in the book, where not only did she break her leg fighting off a brainwashed Scott Summers (Cyclops), but she was also blinded by the backlash from Dark Cerebro, and had to rely completely on her telepathy to see what was going on through others' eyes. Without any visibility, she might not have been able to get out of the jet to sacrifice herself as in the movie. Although I would have liked to have seen her reasoning behind the movie's "It's the only way," I appreciated the alternative solution.

     Finally, I was a little concerned by the name "Chris Claremont," since, although I respect his work on Uncanny X-Men and think that for the most part, he did a remarkable job, I also know that when you get used to working on one medium and then transfer to another, it can sometimes be difficult to reshape your writing to fit the new style. (Imagine Sir Arthur Conan Doyle trying to write a comic, as a purely hypothetical example) But I was again, pleasantly surprised. The work actually reads fairly easily. My one complaint would be the length of the penultimate chapter, as I don't recall a single chapter break from Mystique's infiltration until after the final escape from Alkali Lake. It's understandable, considering a lot happens there, but I thought it might have been wiser to put a chapter break immediately after the first time Dark Cerebro is shut off, picking up as everyone begins recovering from the effects. It's not a major complaint for me, since I've never had a problem putting a book down and picking it back up wherever and whenever I wanted, but it might make it a bit of a slog for readers with different habits.
   
     Nevertheless, if you enjoy the X-Men, or are simply curious as to what might have been in the movie series, would like focus on something besides Logan/Jean/Cyclops, or you simply agree that there isn't enough Nightcrawler in the X-films at this point, I would highly recommend Chris Claremont's X-Men 2: The Novel.


So please, enjoy, and I'll see you on the next shelf.



   

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Beyond Uhura

      Of course, many of you probably recognize Nichelle Nichols as Uhura in the original "Star Trek," as well as the animated series, and the first six films. But in Beyond Uhura: Star Trek and Other Memories, she speaks frankly about her work as an African American actress in the 1950s and up.
   
     Nichelle Nichols begins with her life as Grace Nichols, growing up and taking dance lessons. Originally interested in ballet, she became interested in Afro-Cuban dance, which she claimed saved her from the glamorous, but ultimately torturous life of ballet. She also writes very frankly about the racism and sexism she dealt with early on, from numerous times being rejected at a hotel which had already been reserved for her due to her race, to an experience being blackmailed for sexual favors. It is certainly not something that someone with my limited experience can do justice. Nichelle even covers her experiences as a single mother who had moved back in with her parents. Her willingness to write about these things could also be good for opening future conversations for young and/or single mothers, especially as she recalls a slip in parenting, which would later become almost a running joke between her and her son.

     Of course, she writes about her experiences playing Uhura, but also those leading up to it, including her work in The Lieutenant, which was actually her first time working with Gene Roddenberry. With Star Trek, she would continue to encounter racism in the form of workers not giving her the fan mail addressed to her, and even, after Grace Lee Whitney left, being told that she should have been the one to leave, and not Grace. However, she also notes the positive aspects of her work, even being told by Martin Luther King Jr. about the importance of her role.

        Speaking about "The Man Trap," she writes that the monster appears to Uhura "in the guise of a beautiful Swahili-speaking Black man. Fans do not consider this one of the best episodes, but it had its moments" (Nichols 159). She also writes about how in episodes such as "The Naked Time" or "The Squire of Gothos," Uhura makes it clear that she's no damsel in distress. "And in 'Mirror, Mirror,' she proves she can fight, too. Uhura was a new kind of television woman in many ways."

     Unfortunately, her role was also diminished in many ways, with lines and even scripts being altered or cut. This is attributed to people both on and off the set, considering the racist ideals that existed at the time, which were not ready to accept the more enlightened ideals of the fictional twenty-third century.
   
     Uhura, for me, was actually one of my first exposures to a strong and feminine character. A lot of times growing up, and even today, in the media and even in real life women are often given a choice. "You can be strong or you can be feminine, but you can't be both." But Uhura exists as a contradiction to that. As the communications officer, she is a vital role on the ship, especially when you consider that without Uhura, the Enterprise might be blown up before anyone has a chance to explain things to someone who assumes they are hostile. At one point, a designer on set wanted her to lose weight so that she would lose her feminine figure, and Gene Roddenberry defended her, saying, "She looks like a woman" (Nichols 189). Although her miniskirt is sometimes criticized as being "sexist," Nichols writes, "It always surprised me because I never saw it that way. After all, the show was created in the age of the miniskirt, and the crew women's uniforms were very comfortable. ...In
fact, the miniskirt was a symbol of sexual liberation. More to the point," she adds, "in the twenty-third century, you are respected for your abilities regardless of what you do or do not wear." Additionally, the series "Bible," which spells out the rules of the show, Uhura is written as "a no-nonsense professional. Not cute, not coy, not mere female decoration. She meant business" (Nichols 172).

    Another thing I found interesting, and even a bit surprising, was in regards to her nude dancing scene in Star Trek V: The Final Frontier. When they offered to use a body double, she replied, "Over my dead body! Harve, I'm in great shape. I'd rather not be totally nude, though, so let's use a G-string" (Nichols 282). Of course, this is the same woman who fought to preserve the feminine aspects of the character in Star Trek: The Motion Picture, but the scenarios are still very different.

     But of course, beyond Uhura, Nichelle Nichols also participated in activism for getting women and minorities interested and involved in the space program. You might have read about how her work as Uhura inspired people, but she also went out as herself to do recruiting. It's a fascinating read, and at just over 300 pages, I would recommend it.

   So please enjoy, and I'll see you on the next shelf!


Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Leonard

I've read I Am Spock several times, and I am at least aware enough of I Am Not Spock that I own it and have read partway into it before the unfortunate truths of being a college student kicked in. However, a few months back, I stumbled on a third book, Leonard, a biography written not by Leonard Nimoy, but by friend and former costar William Shatner. Expecting something of a lighthearted reminiscence, I picked it up.


And of course, I was immediately surprised by the contents. Shatner begins by recalling an interview in which Nimoy had said he was his best friend, and notes that he wasn't particularly emotionally expressive in those kinds of situations. He very frankly notes what a big deal it was for him to say that. This was the moment that I realized just what I'd gotten myself into by picking up that book.

I don't have the book with me right now, so I can't discuss it in as much detail as I would like, or pull quotes. But if you're familiar with Shatner's Star Trek Memories or Star Trek Movie Memories, you would probably expect no small amount of humor. And while there are light-hearted moments and comments given in ways he seems aware he'd never be able to get away with around anyone else, I wouldn't call the book comedy. Despite a few memories of jokes played on each other (or others) and a few tongue-in-cheek remarks about his own ego, Shatner's book is surprisingly frank. He himself is only mentioned in the context of his and Nimoy's similar experiences, as if to explain why they would have bonded over that. You can certainly feel his respect for Leonard Nimoy in the pages of that book.

It isn't all the fun memories either. Shatner writes with unexpected precision and sensitivity on the subject of painful divorces and struggles with alcoholism, even seeming to regret that he couldn't have realized what was going on sooner. All I can say is that I found it very sobering to read those words, which showed more comprehension and maturity on the subject than many, even compared to some who you would expect to know better.

The book covers the entire span of their friendship, going even before their first meeting, up until the very end. And yet, there is a note of peace and optimism about it, even with the regrets. It is certainly an emotional read, although I can't guarantee the extent to which it will affect you. I myself did not become emotional in the areas I expected, but in completely different ones.

In any case, I would highly recommend the book and deeply regret that I am unable to pull quotes at the moment. 

So please, enjoy, and live long and prosper.