In past postings, I have looked at how uneasy Americans can be about counter-factual discussions around the history of the USA: http://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2007/11/denying-counter-factual-issues-around.html and http://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2008/06/when-counter-factual-becomes.html This seems to stem from an enduring if unstated faith in the so-called 'manifest destiny', i.e. that the USA was always destined to turn out the way that it has and so any discussions of alternatives is a waste of time. Naturally I strongly oppose that viewpoint, not least because it allows a state to argue that whatever policy it adopts must be correct because it was 'destined' to happen. The ridiculousness of that is immediately apparent if you compare the policies of President Barack Obama and his immediate predecessor George W. Bush. Which was truly manifesting the USA's destiny? Clearly that is not happening, unless it is the USA's destiny is to constantly chop and change.
All states exist as a result of a series of accidents combined with deliberate actions, some of which succeeded, some of which failed. As I have noted before, not every alternative, in the long run, would have led to a great change in history as we have known it. Conversely, small differences can lead to vast changes in what happened. Each counter-factual needs to be weighed on its own merits. In addition, we have to recognise that this is no more than an intellectual exercise, we cannot 'prove' the propositions, but saying that, in many branches of science, that is the same. Some dismiss counter-factual analysis as a 'game'. It can be entertaining and is the basis of an extensive sub-genre of fiction dating back many decades. However, counter-factual analysis is also a vital tool in properly weighing up the different elements which went into our history. Thus, as I have argued before, it is something that should not be dismissed: http://rooksmoor.blogspot.com/2007/05/usefulness-of-what-if-history.html
Now, it is probably on the basis of the usefulness of counter-factual analysis, that on 31st March 2011, China announced 'guidelines' effectively banning time-travel movies and television programmes. In a statement from Li Jingsheng head of television drama at China's State Administration for Radio, Film and Television (SARFT) has said that such dramas (and comedies): 'lack positive thoughts and meaning'; 'its content and the exaggerated performance style are questionable'; 'Many stories are totally made-up and are made to strain for an effect of novelty'; 'They casually make up myths, have monstrous and weird plots, use absurd tactics, and even promote feudalism, superstition, fatalism and reincarnation.' Of course, many of these things could be charges laid against many genres of fiction, for example, romance, Westerns, crime stories and even historical drams. It is the last elements about promoting feudalism and fatalism which really cut to the heart of the issue.
ommentators about Chinese society believe this move has been prompted by recent programmes featuring happy times in China's past (though it is pretty difficult to find any era in Chinese history when a substantial group of Chinese were not suffering). The key example is 'The Palace', as pointed out by Professor Nie Wei, from the School of Movie and Television Drama Studies of Shanghai University. The series features a 21st-century girl travelling back in time to the Qing dynasty (which ruled China 1644-1911). The episodes for the next series are being rewritten.
The movies and series has effectively banned in China on this basis include 'The Terminator' (1984) and presumably its sequels and television series; 'Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure' (1989) and its sequel; any version of 'A Christmas Carol'; 'Planet of the Apes' (1968) and its sequels, series and remake; 'Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery' (1997) and its sequels; 'Back To The Future' (1985) and its two sequels, 'Black Knight' (2001), 'The X-Files' (1993-2002) though I am not certain that many episodes of this actually featured time travel, 'Doctor Who' (1963-) and 'Star Trek' (1966-9) and presumably all the movies and sequel series.
I can only think of one time travel episode, in the original 'Star Trek' series, 'The City on the Edge of Forever' in the original series which the crew prevent a woman (played by Joan Collins!) being run over in 1930s USA so leading to a subsequent Nazi victory in World War Two including the USA coming under Nazi control. Apparently, however, three other episodes feature time travel, one taking crew members to 1968, one to 1969, one taking them back 3 days and one to two historic time periods on an alien planet. There is also time travel in the movie, 'Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home' (1986).
The fatalism would be seen in movies like 'The Butterfly Effect' (2004) in which a man tries to change his own life by travelling back in time on a number of occasions only to constantly make things worse; in 'Running Against Time' (1990) the repeated attempts by three time travellers to avoid US intervention in the Vietnam War only exacerbate the conflict. However, this then shows up the contradictions in the Chinese guidelines. They oppose both time travel that can make things turn out better and they dislike time travel that worsens the situation. They oppose time travel stories that only impact on the fate of a few individuals and also ones which affect the whole world such as 'The Terminator' and 'Star Trek IV' or 'A Sound of Thunder' (2005) which radically sees humans replaced by a reptillian species as a result of a time traveller to the Cretaceous period treading on a creature. Of course, the Chinese government could insist that all time travel stories adhere to the Novikov self-consistency principle, that, in fact you cannot alter history as it has happened, any attempt to do so will fail, as shown in 'Twelve Monkeys' (1995) and 'The Time Machine' (2002).
One movie not mentioned by the Chinese is 'Fatherland' (1994) perhaps because though the book it was based on was a best seller, the movie had little success, especially in the USA. The movie does not feature time travel, rather it is one of the only actual counter-factual movies in that it envisages a world in which Nazi Germany won the Second World War. Though not stated, it must be assumed that in such a scenario Japan would have been victorious in the Pacific as victory in Europe would have allowed its forces to be supplement by Germany and its allies. Despite the fact that Germany and Japan were always awkward allies (as history of wartime Shanghai show), Germany presumably would have put experienced U-boat packs into the Pacific; experienced German pilots and aircraft into the Pacific and China and provided SS units to exterminate Chinese Communists behind the frontlines. It seems unlikely Japan would have conquered all of China but it would have held the major cities and wealthiest regions, so today, North-East China would still be Manchukuo and Communism would have been eliminated from the Japanese colonies in eastern and central China.
I believe the movies listed owe more to their international renown than the portrayal of events in specific movies that is what has drawn Chinese state attention to them. However, there is also the factor of discussion around time travel and the possibilities it may offer to change a country which is what alarms the Chinese government the most. Despite this, It seems that, in the opposition to time travel, the Chinese are also dismissing a lot of general science fiction. This may be the authorities' intention.
Many of these series and movies have other concepts, discussion of which would be seen as a threat, especially 'Star Trek' which often handled moral judgements in story lines and elements such as discrimination. A fuller part of the SARFT statement suggests this is the case: 'fantasy, time-travel, random compilations of mythical stories, bizarre plots, absurd techniques, even propagating feudal superstitions, fatalism and reincarnation, ambiguous moral lessons, and even a lack of positive thinking.'
The timing seems to be in preparation for the 90th anniversary of the Communist Party of China being established (and, of course, the centenary of the 1911 Revolution which established the Chinese Republic which the Communists did not control entirely until 1950) and so '[a]ll levels should actively prepare to launch vivid reproductions of the Chinese revolution, the nation’s construction and its reform and opening up.' Of course, if we travelled back to 1971 for the 50th anniversary, the party members then would be in horror of the capitalist economy now in place in China and would see predictions for 2011 which featured China as one of the leading capitalist states of the world as completely counter-revolutionary and in need of suppression. Thus, even in its own history, the Communist Party of China has gone down 'alternative' paths that would have been considered highly inappropriate to discuss, even within living memory.
You can see the easy step from thinking about time travel to challenging the current regime, whether to argue that the more Maoist era or the Imperial era or the brief periods of democracy were better than the current state. Of course, the kind of question that the Chinese regime fears most is 'what if the democracy movement of Tiananmen Square had not been suppressed in 1989?' and other similar ones about Mao being ousted or the Chinese Civil War having a different outcome, all things that may allow people to think that an alternative path would have been better for the country's people.
China has not been alone in having such concerns. When the National Curriculum for the UK was launched in 1992, the history section of it instructed teachers specifically not to even suggest that any time period or country was better to live in than the UK at the time. The Conservative government was seemingly as insecure as the current Chinese government.
It is interesting that the two greatest Powers in the world at the moment, the USA and China are the ones who are most nervous about any speculation that their histories could have turned out very differently to how they did. In the USA pressure tends to come by brow-beating or dismissal as irrelevant. In China, a totalitarian dictatorship which practices extensive censorship, the approach is much more direct. However, in my view this only adds value to the role of counter-factual analysis. After all, if the Chinese government sees counter-factual speculation as potentially such a threatening tool, one leveraging greater democracy and liberty in the country, to the extent that movies even speculating about it must be censored, then it has some real potency beyond mere entertainment.
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
'Life on Mars'/'Ashes to Ashes'
The week before last, the third and final series of 'Ashes to Ashes' came to an end. This series had run since 2008. The finale provided answers to some of the questions left at the end of the previous series 'Life on Mars' which ran 2007-8. Both of these series featured UK police detectives. In 'Life on Mars' it was Detective Chief Inspector Sam Tyler (played by John Simm) and in 'Ashes to Ashes' Detective Inspector Alex(andra) Drake (played by Keeley Hawes). At the start of the two series these characters are injured in the line of duty: Tyler was hit by a car and Drake was shot. They find themselves, as a result, sent back in time. Tyler turns up in 1973 Manchester and Drake in 1981 London.
In both cases the police team that they are assigned to, as detective inspectors, is headed by Detective Chief Inspector (Eu)Gene Hunt (played by Philip Glenister), assisted by Detective Sergeant/Inspector Ray Carling and Detective Constable Chris Skelton. In 'Life on Mars' there is also Woman Police Constable (later Detective Constable) Annie Cartwright and in 'Ashes to Ashes' Woman Police Constable (later, very briefly, Detective Constable) Sharon 'Shaz' Granger. In this second story Hunt's team have been relocated from Manchester to East London. A US version of 'Life on Mars', starring Harvey Keitel has been produced but I have never seen it; in contrast I have seen every episode of the UK 'Life on Mars' and 'Ashes to Ashes'.
Basically the stories combine standard police procedural crime solving with a more mystical element. Both Tyler and Drake receive communications from the time they left behind through ghosts or images and sounds on televisions, radios and other sources. There is also interest in how different 2000s policing is compared to that of the early 1970s and early 1980s not only in terms of technology but also in terms of procedure. The time-travelling characters also know a lot of what is going to happen which sometimes enables them to solve the crimes they face and reassure or bewilder the people around them about the future. Both Tyler and Drake encounter their parents and see themselves as children. Tyler also encounters the mother of his girlfriend back in 2006. In a couple of stories, especially in 'Life on Mars' it is implied that different actions there change the future; though later we realise it is all happening in a bubble universe based upon but only tendentially connected with our own.
Given the 'hauntings' by people and occurrences from the 2000s, both Tyler and especially Drake who worked as a police psychologist, question whether what they are in, in the past is 'real'. Tyler ultimately leaves 1974 and returns to 2006, but finding it far duller commits suicide taking him back into the 1974 he has been living in. At the end of 'Ashes to Ashes' it turns out that both Tyler and Drake were right when they first arrived, to see the setting as being a figment of the imagination. The fact that they both came to feel it was 'real' is what allowed them to 'pass over' into the afterlife, in these series represented by 'The Railway Arms' pub run by a black Rastafarian Mancunian called Nelson. (The pub name may refer to the fact that the final action we see Tyler involved with is an armed robbery on a train). However, it turns out not to be the figment of their own damaged minds but that of Gene Hunt, who it is revealed was a police constable shot dead in 1953. In fact all of the police officers seen are dead and we seen the deaths of Carling, Skelton and Granger in different eras.
There are obvious parallels to movies such as 'The Sixth Sense' (1999) and the UK television series, 'afterlife' [sic] starring Lesley Sharp and Andrew Lincoln which ran 2005-6 and featured a ghostly nurse doing much the same role as Hunt does. There are lots of questions over whether Tyler ever comes back from his coma or is just seeing a false version of 2006. At the end of the second series of 'Ashes to Ashes' Drake is accidentally shot by Hunt and ends up in a coma in 1982 which makes her think she is back in 2008 and it seemed she might be trapped in a false 2008 within the 1982, with messages from Hunt and others haunting her through televisions, etc. She is able to get back to at least the 1982 and ultimately finish off her 'passing over'. This conclusion for the dead police seems to be through them satisfactorily solving a variety of crimes, though if Carling and Skelton's time with Hunt is anything to go by (at least ten years) then for some it takes longer than others. Similarly we find out that Tyler has only passed over in 1980, seven years after first arriving in Hunt's world.
In the final series of 'Ashes to Ashes' we find that Hunt is not alone in trying to see dead police officers into the next world. A very nasty character, Detective Chief Inspector Jim Keats (played incredibly annoyingly by Daniel Mays, his baby-faced appearance made him resemble appalling comic Joe Pasquale) who seems to be the Devil, trying to tempt the police spirits to some other realm. He seeks to enlist Drake and others in his campaign to have Hunt dismissed. Finding this out leads us to reflect on similar offers to go against Hunt, on grounds of corruption and inappropriate approaches to policing, that were made to Tyler as part of the M.A.R.S. initiative in 'Life on Mars'.
Given the focus on death, there is a bitter element to both stories. Tyler has left behind his girlfriend, Maya, who had just been abducted by a serial killer when he suffered his accident and, whereas, we initally think he had changed the future by his actions in 1973, we know now he was simply in a bubble, so presumably Maya has indeed been murdered by the killer. Drake has left her young daughter behind in 2008 too and presumably she has to grow up without a mother given that Drake never recovers from being shot. Drake also finds out that her father committed suicide in 1981 using a bomb, murdering her mother at the same time.
Both series have been incredibly successful and it is not surprising that a US television company wanted to make a version. To a great extent a lot of this has to do with nostalgia. Great efforts have been made to reproduce Manchester of the early 1970s and London of the early 1980s, with all the clothes, vehicles and even shop items and posters and occasional portrayals of real life people like Marc Bolan, appropriate to the era. The musical soundtrack, featuring numerous hits from the specific year, is an integral part of the stories. The importance of the music is noted on the wikipedia entries and of cours, both of the stories are named after David Bowie tracks released in the particular year. [Back in the mid-2000s I acquired a weird phobia that if I was driving and an old Bowie track came on I was convinced I would have a car accident and would wake up in the past! I do not what you would call that, Lifeonmarsphobia!]
Many of the episodes tap into current issues of the time such as racism, the appearance of football violence, and Irish-based terrorism in the 1970s to the development of Docklands, yuppie crime and the anti-apartheid struggle in the 1980s. There are the occasional slip-ups, notably Sam Tyler's watch having a digital display, but there is also attention to detail such as the white dog faeces on streets in the 1970s and pink wafer biscuits. This allows people who lived through the eras to be reminded of them and for others to effectively see a time travel story with elements somewhat reminiscent of 'Back to the Future' (1985) combining personal and broader history. The police stories in themselves are interesting and as well written as a lot of police drama on television at the moment, typically with an effort to have an unexpected outcome. Sometimes Hunt is right, sometimes Tyler/Drake are.
The character of Gene Hunt has particularly appealed to viewers and he is another reason for the series success. Given that 'The Sweeney' (ran for 53 episodes in 4 series 1975-8; 2 movies 1977 & 1978; 9 novels in 1977), seen as the archetype, almost the stereotype of 1970s police shows in the UK is still aired regularly on UK television channels, it is not surprising that a hard drinking, hard smoking, misogynistic police officer who shouts a lot, of the kind shown in 'The Sweeney', is a portrayal that many viewers have affection for. There were intentional visual references to 'The Sweeney' especially in the opening credits. Hunt is antidote to the more politically correct police officers we have seen portrayed in UK police series, especially in 'The Bill' (1984-2010). Hunt himself draws on Western legends seeing himself as the sheriff cleaning up the town, often referencing, in particular, Gary Cooper's character in 'High Noon' (1952), which Hunt presumably would have seen shortly before he was killed.
Though the world we see is in Hunt's mind it is clear he picks up contemporary references to periods after his death, but the occasional irregularities in these can be explained by the fact that this is not the 'real' world. Notable in this respect is that the police get to tote guns far more regularly and with minimal control compared to what was in fact the procedure in the 1970s and 1980s. Hunt himself uses a magnum revolver which certainly would not be permitted as a police firearm in the UK. In addition, the world being created by Hunt's imagination, and presumably how he likes to see things, explains why when Drake first appears in 1981 she is dressed as a high-class prostitute rather than more conventionally as a police officer.
Hunt often beats up suspects, which seems to have been pretty common through the 1970s and 1980s for real, but is clearly at odds with official procedure in the 2000s. In this way Hunt is like the Jack Regan character in 'The Sweeney' who uses violence but a blind eye is usually turned to it because he catches criminals. Given current popularity, especially among the white English population of the UK for the less politically correct period of the 1970s and 1980s when violent white men were dominant in much of British society it is unsurprising that Hunt like Regan is popular. However, this is to miss much of what Glenister brings to the character. He is vane, loving his fast cars and his snakeskin boots as status symbols. He is very loyal to his staff and often has a softer side that allows him to engage with people at risk and reassure them; in such circumstances the more procedural approach of the 2000s police officers is shown as getting in the way of a human connection with people the police are trying to protect. In contrast, Hunt's prejudices especially about women, ethnic minorities and former criminals are often seen as getting in the way of an effective investigation.
Thus, it is unsurprising that a movie which pushes so many dramatic 'buttons' and encompasses ghost stories, time travel, police procedural and even, to a little extent, Westerns, and is embedded in nostalgia, should be so widely appealing. It certainly bares re-watching especially when you have seen the end, well, each end, because stopping at the end of any of the 5 series in the set will give you a different impression of what has been going on. I am glad that the BBC had these series produced and sustained them to the end. I hope that we will see such engaging and also challenging dramas in the future, but I worry not. Go out and buy the DVDs, they are well worth the investment, especially if anyone in your family has been connected with the police.
In both cases the police team that they are assigned to, as detective inspectors, is headed by Detective Chief Inspector (Eu)Gene Hunt (played by Philip Glenister), assisted by Detective Sergeant/Inspector Ray Carling and Detective Constable Chris Skelton. In 'Life on Mars' there is also Woman Police Constable (later Detective Constable) Annie Cartwright and in 'Ashes to Ashes' Woman Police Constable (later, very briefly, Detective Constable) Sharon 'Shaz' Granger. In this second story Hunt's team have been relocated from Manchester to East London. A US version of 'Life on Mars', starring Harvey Keitel has been produced but I have never seen it; in contrast I have seen every episode of the UK 'Life on Mars' and 'Ashes to Ashes'.
Basically the stories combine standard police procedural crime solving with a more mystical element. Both Tyler and Drake receive communications from the time they left behind through ghosts or images and sounds on televisions, radios and other sources. There is also interest in how different 2000s policing is compared to that of the early 1970s and early 1980s not only in terms of technology but also in terms of procedure. The time-travelling characters also know a lot of what is going to happen which sometimes enables them to solve the crimes they face and reassure or bewilder the people around them about the future. Both Tyler and Drake encounter their parents and see themselves as children. Tyler also encounters the mother of his girlfriend back in 2006. In a couple of stories, especially in 'Life on Mars' it is implied that different actions there change the future; though later we realise it is all happening in a bubble universe based upon but only tendentially connected with our own.
Given the 'hauntings' by people and occurrences from the 2000s, both Tyler and especially Drake who worked as a police psychologist, question whether what they are in, in the past is 'real'. Tyler ultimately leaves 1974 and returns to 2006, but finding it far duller commits suicide taking him back into the 1974 he has been living in. At the end of 'Ashes to Ashes' it turns out that both Tyler and Drake were right when they first arrived, to see the setting as being a figment of the imagination. The fact that they both came to feel it was 'real' is what allowed them to 'pass over' into the afterlife, in these series represented by 'The Railway Arms' pub run by a black Rastafarian Mancunian called Nelson. (The pub name may refer to the fact that the final action we see Tyler involved with is an armed robbery on a train). However, it turns out not to be the figment of their own damaged minds but that of Gene Hunt, who it is revealed was a police constable shot dead in 1953. In fact all of the police officers seen are dead and we seen the deaths of Carling, Skelton and Granger in different eras.
There are obvious parallels to movies such as 'The Sixth Sense' (1999) and the UK television series, 'afterlife' [sic] starring Lesley Sharp and Andrew Lincoln which ran 2005-6 and featured a ghostly nurse doing much the same role as Hunt does. There are lots of questions over whether Tyler ever comes back from his coma or is just seeing a false version of 2006. At the end of the second series of 'Ashes to Ashes' Drake is accidentally shot by Hunt and ends up in a coma in 1982 which makes her think she is back in 2008 and it seemed she might be trapped in a false 2008 within the 1982, with messages from Hunt and others haunting her through televisions, etc. She is able to get back to at least the 1982 and ultimately finish off her 'passing over'. This conclusion for the dead police seems to be through them satisfactorily solving a variety of crimes, though if Carling and Skelton's time with Hunt is anything to go by (at least ten years) then for some it takes longer than others. Similarly we find out that Tyler has only passed over in 1980, seven years after first arriving in Hunt's world.
In the final series of 'Ashes to Ashes' we find that Hunt is not alone in trying to see dead police officers into the next world. A very nasty character, Detective Chief Inspector Jim Keats (played incredibly annoyingly by Daniel Mays, his baby-faced appearance made him resemble appalling comic Joe Pasquale) who seems to be the Devil, trying to tempt the police spirits to some other realm. He seeks to enlist Drake and others in his campaign to have Hunt dismissed. Finding this out leads us to reflect on similar offers to go against Hunt, on grounds of corruption and inappropriate approaches to policing, that were made to Tyler as part of the M.A.R.S. initiative in 'Life on Mars'.
Given the focus on death, there is a bitter element to both stories. Tyler has left behind his girlfriend, Maya, who had just been abducted by a serial killer when he suffered his accident and, whereas, we initally think he had changed the future by his actions in 1973, we know now he was simply in a bubble, so presumably Maya has indeed been murdered by the killer. Drake has left her young daughter behind in 2008 too and presumably she has to grow up without a mother given that Drake never recovers from being shot. Drake also finds out that her father committed suicide in 1981 using a bomb, murdering her mother at the same time.
Both series have been incredibly successful and it is not surprising that a US television company wanted to make a version. To a great extent a lot of this has to do with nostalgia. Great efforts have been made to reproduce Manchester of the early 1970s and London of the early 1980s, with all the clothes, vehicles and even shop items and posters and occasional portrayals of real life people like Marc Bolan, appropriate to the era. The musical soundtrack, featuring numerous hits from the specific year, is an integral part of the stories. The importance of the music is noted on the wikipedia entries and of cours, both of the stories are named after David Bowie tracks released in the particular year. [Back in the mid-2000s I acquired a weird phobia that if I was driving and an old Bowie track came on I was convinced I would have a car accident and would wake up in the past! I do not what you would call that, Lifeonmarsphobia!]
Many of the episodes tap into current issues of the time such as racism, the appearance of football violence, and Irish-based terrorism in the 1970s to the development of Docklands, yuppie crime and the anti-apartheid struggle in the 1980s. There are the occasional slip-ups, notably Sam Tyler's watch having a digital display, but there is also attention to detail such as the white dog faeces on streets in the 1970s and pink wafer biscuits. This allows people who lived through the eras to be reminded of them and for others to effectively see a time travel story with elements somewhat reminiscent of 'Back to the Future' (1985) combining personal and broader history. The police stories in themselves are interesting and as well written as a lot of police drama on television at the moment, typically with an effort to have an unexpected outcome. Sometimes Hunt is right, sometimes Tyler/Drake are.
The character of Gene Hunt has particularly appealed to viewers and he is another reason for the series success. Given that 'The Sweeney' (ran for 53 episodes in 4 series 1975-8; 2 movies 1977 & 1978; 9 novels in 1977), seen as the archetype, almost the stereotype of 1970s police shows in the UK is still aired regularly on UK television channels, it is not surprising that a hard drinking, hard smoking, misogynistic police officer who shouts a lot, of the kind shown in 'The Sweeney', is a portrayal that many viewers have affection for. There were intentional visual references to 'The Sweeney' especially in the opening credits. Hunt is antidote to the more politically correct police officers we have seen portrayed in UK police series, especially in 'The Bill' (1984-2010). Hunt himself draws on Western legends seeing himself as the sheriff cleaning up the town, often referencing, in particular, Gary Cooper's character in 'High Noon' (1952), which Hunt presumably would have seen shortly before he was killed.
Though the world we see is in Hunt's mind it is clear he picks up contemporary references to periods after his death, but the occasional irregularities in these can be explained by the fact that this is not the 'real' world. Notable in this respect is that the police get to tote guns far more regularly and with minimal control compared to what was in fact the procedure in the 1970s and 1980s. Hunt himself uses a magnum revolver which certainly would not be permitted as a police firearm in the UK. In addition, the world being created by Hunt's imagination, and presumably how he likes to see things, explains why when Drake first appears in 1981 she is dressed as a high-class prostitute rather than more conventionally as a police officer.
Hunt often beats up suspects, which seems to have been pretty common through the 1970s and 1980s for real, but is clearly at odds with official procedure in the 2000s. In this way Hunt is like the Jack Regan character in 'The Sweeney' who uses violence but a blind eye is usually turned to it because he catches criminals. Given current popularity, especially among the white English population of the UK for the less politically correct period of the 1970s and 1980s when violent white men were dominant in much of British society it is unsurprising that Hunt like Regan is popular. However, this is to miss much of what Glenister brings to the character. He is vane, loving his fast cars and his snakeskin boots as status symbols. He is very loyal to his staff and often has a softer side that allows him to engage with people at risk and reassure them; in such circumstances the more procedural approach of the 2000s police officers is shown as getting in the way of a human connection with people the police are trying to protect. In contrast, Hunt's prejudices especially about women, ethnic minorities and former criminals are often seen as getting in the way of an effective investigation.
Thus, it is unsurprising that a movie which pushes so many dramatic 'buttons' and encompasses ghost stories, time travel, police procedural and even, to a little extent, Westerns, and is embedded in nostalgia, should be so widely appealing. It certainly bares re-watching especially when you have seen the end, well, each end, because stopping at the end of any of the 5 series in the set will give you a different impression of what has been going on. I am glad that the BBC had these series produced and sustained them to the end. I hope that we will see such engaging and also challenging dramas in the future, but I worry not. Go out and buy the DVDs, they are well worth the investment, especially if anyone in your family has been connected with the police.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Undone - Short Story
Now, I am including this story out of chronological sequence. 'Insecurity' and 'Spindrift' were written in 1993-4 and this one in 2002. They had been thinking about making 'Life on Mars' as early as 1998 so even if I had somehow could have got near a TV contract I would have been too late. However, I include it alongside those because, like them it is about my weird attachment to elements of 1970s culture. I thought about this story for years and had intended it to be a novel. However, since the advent of 'Life on Mars' first shown in 2006, this genre has probably been worked out. The location is specific, it is a road which runs by a lake in Surrey down to where my grandfather lived. He was a very unpleasant man but his house was in location of intriguing sights. It lay close to the canals that I have referred to, so the whole district to me seemed associated with walks (and not doing forced labour in my parents' garden). There is a bank beside the road which you have to clamber up to look out over the lake. Farther down the lane was a railway carriage sat in a field and that and odd things such as the little brook and the animals on the pasture and the reeds by the river all gave it a real character that because of when I went there I also always associate with the 1970s and all that canal boat-folk music-self-sufficiency axis that I have been talking about here.
I produced a number of versions of this story. This is just over 3000 words and is the original version. I fleshed it out to bring it up to 4000 words for a competition but feel that it was too clearly padding. I also cut it down to 2000 words to make it acceptable to read at the writers' group but that was too rushed and too many things then lacked explanation. So here it is in its original form, bringing together an element of my short story writing which was slightly less about me simply recounting my doubts about life and instead wallowing in a culture that was not appealing to me but was certainly intriguing and seemed to be a lost slice of British life of the recent past.
Undone
For the thousandth time, I switched on the light and read my watch. I wished I had my usual digital watch, but in 1975 it would have provoked questions that I could not risk being asked. The watch hand seemed to have crept just a fraction of a millimetre beyond where I had last seen it. I was bored. I groped in my pocket for the white paper bag of mints I had bought earlier that day and popped one into my mouth. I had long forgotten what Sundays had been like. I was used to twenty-four hour shops, buying online and the delights of DIY stores packed full of families. Here the newsagent was open until twelve-thirty, and then the only distraction for families had for the rest of the day was gazing into closed estate agents’ windows. ‘Closed? Don’t they realise how much business they’re losing?’ I muttered to myself. It would take them another decade to learn that.
I suppose to have behaved truly appropriately for the year I was in I should have passed the time smoking, but that is something I never really got into, even before it became illegal. The pub I had visited earlier had been thick with tobacco smoke and it took time for my eyes and throat to adjust. Despite the walk along the lake’s edge, I could still smell the stink deep in my clothes,. I had expected to while away the afternoon in the pub, spending my carefully gathered period coins on beer and peanuts, buying just enough packets to reveal the scantily clad woman on the card fixed up behind the bar. But of course, they had closed mid-afternoon and I had had to skulk around the park, reading tabloid newspapers that I found in the waste bins, waiting for night to fall before they would let me back in. Not for the first time I wondered why the youth of this time had not committed mass suicide. School must have come as a blessing each Monday. Just spending one day here was bad enough for me. I suppose that was why Patrick had drunk, he could pass many Sundays happily time smoking dope and downing whisky at his old farmhouse with Carol, Karen, Bob and Matt. Once again I moved my head to see if I could catch a glimpse of the house through the trees, but it was dark and too many leaves still clung on to give me a clear view. Anyway, tonight I knew he would not be there.
To distract me I reached for the blue-spined paperback book about the coming fuel crisis. Wedged in it as a book mark, as if to emphasise the point, was an article about the coming shortage of protein. I wanted to telephone someone and tell them, ‘It’s alright for the moment. You eat too much meat anyway. Instead get those condoms out of the pub toilets and into schools, you’ll do a lot better for mankind, listen to me.’ I ran my fingers over the paper pages and held the book close to my nose. I loved the feel of a non-electronic book. It was just an affectation, pandering to my hobby. Of course it was all wrong: the pages were dark tan and it smelt old, all wrong for a book published in the year I was now in.
I read a few pages and flicked through some more, turning the book to look at the various charts and diagrams. No-one remembers the prophets who get it wrong. They are never recorded in history, or maybe they have come to be. I thought about all the imagined histories of the third world war I had collected on my shelf at home. Every decade of the twentieth century seemed to have had its favourite doom. Idly I tried to remember what it had been in the nineties.
I yawned. My backside was getting sore. The jeans I was wearing were a touch too tight, especially following the roast dinner that I had had. It was a novelty to be dressed this way, in clothes may of animal and plant fibres. I remembered Jean Morris at the university telling me that a glut in cotton had shaped the fashions of the era, it was a ‘historical fact’ she had said. To me they looked impractical and ridiculous. I was not sure that a man of my age would have dressed like this anyway, but the only pictures we could find had shown fashions for young people and I had had to settle for that. I was grateful, though, that I had the loud red-and-white striped sleeveless sweater and the corduroy jacket, I was feeling chilly and I could not turn on the engine to warm myself up. It seemed surprisingly cold for early September, but then I supposed sitting here I was not protected from that breeze off the lake, well, the old gravel pit, to describe it accurately. It had closed down five years earlier and had already evolved into a sailing club for the suburbs, along with a spot of bird watching around the edge. I guess that is what some people did to pass the time on Sundays in the seventies. Everyone told me that television was better in then, but I only remembered dreary Victorian serials.
I did remember one time visiting Uncle Patrick’s and being lent the heavy Soviet binoculars that he had got cheap. ‘Soviet, now that’s an adjective that really dates things.’ I had had to lie flat on my belly, concealed in some rushes the far side of the lake from the club. I had felt excited, like a sniper. All I saw was seagulls skimming the lake surface. ‘Now, when was that? It had to be later, towards the end of the ‘70s.’ I had no desire to run into myself, but could not be certain that I had avoided the chance. Being in my eighties now, the past is not so much another country as somewhere in Britain you have only received postcards from, like Rye or Llandudno.
I suppose the date was well enough into September that school would have started and the next time me and the rest of the family would see Uncle Patrick would be for Christmas. He was the youngest of my mother’s brothers, and my gran had told me the rest of the family had petted him as a child, but I felt my mother had come to look down on him. She, her name was Claire, was irritated by his ways, his inability to settle into what she would call a ‘normal’ life. He never had a wife, just girlfriends and to much of the family that seemed inappropriate for a man entering his forties. My opinion had switched through my youth, at first enjoying what he represented, a place away from the more boring parts of suburbia. His house was almost rural, though in fact not that far from civilization, but it was a rambling place to which all the antiques of the Walker family had accrued. He had nice chocolates and he baked, not always successfully, but there were decent cakes, different stuff from what we had at home. Sometimes though, when I felt myself mature, I disapproved of him like my mother and would sulk until he told me a story of his travels in 1960s.
‘Fool!’ I thought, my brain must be addled. I must have come here in 1975, as we only came here once after his death and that was for the funeral. My mother spent months disposing of all the junk. I remember her looking thin and ill, her face scratched from cutting back the hedges. Those months were a heavy burden on her as she fended off Patrick’s strange friends. Carol flipped as a result of his death, and there were mutters she had gone into an institution. It was only years later I found out that was true. Matt had been beaten close to death by some thugs Patrick had been protecting him from. As time passed it turned out that Patrick’s house out here had been a kind of refuge. His sometimes nihilist attitude to things hid a real altruism. It was only when I read a line from Irini Papagos’s autobiography about the help he had given her when she fled the Colonels’ regime that I began to see more than Uncle Patrick in the late Patrick Walker.
I tracked down references to his artwork as well, just a few small exhibitions, but it made me curious as to where it had all gone after his death. I remembered the outhouse we had been forbidden from entering, that Patrick kept closed with a padlock. He would sometimes emerge from it when our car pulled up, but as a child I had always imagined he was building something like a car. Then again I always was more focused on eccentric inventions, part of what got me here.
I looked at my watch once more. It was twenty-five past. I stirred myself into action. I remembered the police report I had accessed had said death had occurred sometime between nine thirty and ten on Sunday 21st September 1975. It would have been a guess I suppose, but so far I had neither seen or heard any traffic, neither Patrick’s car nor the one he was going to crash into. I switched on the main car lights. This lane was unlit, and though the Moon occasionally cast a bright grey over things, there were too many shadows from the trees and bushes. I did not want to provide an alternative obstacle for Patrick to crash his car into.
I got out of the car, opened the boot and took out the red triangle. Realising it must be close to nine thirty and I was just two corners from where his car went off the road I hurried. My movements were mechanical, I had thought this through so many times, that it was hard to believe it was finally happening. I walked away from the back of the car, looking for a good spot to set up the triangle. My hands were trembling. To people of 1975 I would look closer to fifty than eighty, the wonders they can do these days, but physical regeneration cannot overcome the burden of all the memories, more than that, all the worries, the what-ifs that you have stored in your brain.
My stomach leapt and I looked up sharply as I heard the car’s engine. I fumbled for the small torch in my pocket. It was an original, not too powerful, but that was what I wanted, to alert Patrick, not to dazzle him. Then, faster than I guessed the car rounded the corner. I thought it was going to hit me, but it twisted to the side scraping along the hedge that edged the field opposite the lake. I thought he would power on, ignoring me, and I wondered if my delay would have been enough to make him avoid the accident. Then he stopped, almost level with my car. I walked quickly over to him, eager that he did not drive off. I could still get everything back to plan.
The engine was idling as I approached the car. It was a large two-door vehicle, wasteful of petrol, what was it? A Cortina, a Capri? I tried to remember the names. The window wound down slow and jerkily. I had to remind myself that that was how they were once operated. A woman’s face popped out. As I saw it in the weak light shed by Patrick’s car and my own, I felt as if punched. It was Claire, my mother, I knew that face so well, though not with the lipstick smeared across it as I saw it now.
“Do you need a hand?” She spoke, but her words were broken by a belch. “A hand?” She waved one at me, the nail-polish on the tips struck me as wrong too.
I coughed and made incoherent sounds, things were coming unravelled. I walked closer to the car. As I did the driver lent closer, across Claire. It was Patrick, the blond hair, the curled sideburns were just as I had seen them on innumerable holos.
“Yes, yes, the car’s, the car’s buggered.” I stuttered.
“Right. Let me have a look.” Typically, in moments Patrick had cut the engine and sprang from the car. Then he stopped and lent back in. I realised he had stopped to kiss Claire, not the kiss of brother at all.
Breathing came hard to me. I staggered a little. Patrick noticed and pulled himself away. Claire’s hand stroked his as he did.
Patrick walked briskly round to my car. I had forgotten his size, his energy, but it was clear as he moved that he was drunk or drugged or both. I did not know how he had got this far down the narrow lane without an accident already. He pulled open the driver’s door and got into my car, his foot slipping for a moment as he did. He glanced back at me, as if fearful of giving himself away. I guessed if I had met a man dressed like me in his fifties I could mistake him for an off-duty police captain too.
I handed Patrick the keys and he tried turning the engine a couple of times. I knew the fault. I had engineered it about thirty minutes earlier. Getting hold of dirty spark plugs in the mid-twenty-first century had been a nightmare, but they seemed to be doing their job.
I glanced over at Claire who was sipping from a wine bottle and fiddling with the car radio. She found something she liked, I was trying to remember whether it was too early for ABBA and too late for T-Rex.
Patrick had opened the bonnet and was rooting around ineffectually. “You’re right mate it’s buggered.”
“Thanks for looking, Patrick.” I almost vomited in that second. I stood shivering, fearful of what I had done. In instants all the dangers that I risked flashed through my brain, but my words seemed not have penetrated.
“I’ll drive you back to mine, it’s just round the corner, you can call from there. You’re with the AA or something?”
“Can’t I just use your...” I cut my words off, this was an age without mobile ‘phones, let alone anything more sophisticated. “No. I’ve been abroad, South Africa, only got back into the country recently.”
“You don’t sound like a South African.” Now Patrick looked dubious.
“I’m not. I’m a reporter.” I realised I had picked the wrong country. I tried to remember when apartheid had ended there, was it ‘70s or not until later? “It’s terrible what’s happening there.” I said, feeling it covered all avenues.
“Yeah, it is. You’ve seen it up close?”
“Yeah. Terrible.” I repeated.
“Well, come on, get in. There’s always room at my place to crash. Lock up and come over.”
I killed the lights and packed the red triangle back in the boot. I locked the car but knew I would not be coming back to it.
I walked over to Patrick’s car. Claire had got into the back, and Patrick shoved the door open for me. I got in. The interior stunk: it was a mix of cheap wine, cigarettes and sex.
“I’m Patrick, this is Claire.”
“Hi!” She called from the back.
“I’m Professor Adrian Elmsley.”
“Elmsley?” Claire muttered.
For an instant I cursed. I had forgotten the fake name I had been using.
“Very formal.” Patrick said as he started the car. The wheels span for an instant on the dry dusty surface of the lane before getting a grip. The car started forward with a jerk.
“Friends call me Ade.” I tried to correct my error as the car pulled quickly away.
“Good to meet you.” He said extending his hand. I shook it, but with the other was searching for the seatbelt.
I jammed the metal tongue of the seatbelt into the mechanism, it was stiff, suggesting it was rarely used. It snapped into place as the car powered away, throwing me forward against it for an instant. Claire laughed. Steering one-handed Patrick reached for the cigarette packet and snatched out a cigarette.
“It’s quite dangerous down here.” I said nervously. I tried to see what my watch said, but it was too dark. I assumed it must be passed the time the original accident had happened and the other car would be safely away.
“I could drive it blindfolded, I come down here twice a day, all weathers.”
“That’s right.” Claire said proudly. She reached forward to drape her arms around her lover’s shoulders. He touched her hands with his fingertips.
“Ade’s a nice name.” Claire added.
I looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. We were approaching the last stretch and I let out a breath as I realised we were clear of the gravel pit lake, beyond where the accident happened. In moments we would be at the short side road to Patrick’s house. Then the car appeared to slew sideways, Patrick’s hands grabbed at the steering wheel which seemed to be spinning uncontrollably. In the headlights I could see the large oak that sat beside the track to his house.
My body was wrenched against the seatbelt. Even now I can feel the sensation of the belt like a bar slammed diagonally across my chest. The sound was horrific, the crunching, the shattering, the squeal of metal. Afterwards I was astounded at how the front of the car had compressed so much.
I do not know if I blacked out, but it seemed like hours before I could make sense of what was around me. Patrick lay sprawled across the dashboard, as if he was trying to crawl out where the windscreen had been. Glass was everywhere. The engine had stopped and there were no sounds, none at all. I wondered if I had been deafened by it, but as I finally moved I could hear the noise of shards sliding off me. Then I remembered Claire, I twisted round to see where she was. I guess if she had been in my seat, she might have been luckier, but now her forehead was a bloody mass. Her body had crumpled Patrick’s seat, adding to the force throwing him forward. Her eyes were open but a thick cover of blood streaked down over them. I vomited over myself again and again. I sat dazed for how long, I have no idea. The man who pulled me out was a local farmer, it was only when I returned here that I realised he had been the victim in the previous version of the crash, so I suppose I had achieved something.
So here we are looking at ‘Woman III’ by Patrick Walker. He made a regional gallery, if nothing else, mainly because his muse was not around to destroy all his work after his tragic accident.
I produced a number of versions of this story. This is just over 3000 words and is the original version. I fleshed it out to bring it up to 4000 words for a competition but feel that it was too clearly padding. I also cut it down to 2000 words to make it acceptable to read at the writers' group but that was too rushed and too many things then lacked explanation. So here it is in its original form, bringing together an element of my short story writing which was slightly less about me simply recounting my doubts about life and instead wallowing in a culture that was not appealing to me but was certainly intriguing and seemed to be a lost slice of British life of the recent past.
Undone
For the thousandth time, I switched on the light and read my watch. I wished I had my usual digital watch, but in 1975 it would have provoked questions that I could not risk being asked. The watch hand seemed to have crept just a fraction of a millimetre beyond where I had last seen it. I was bored. I groped in my pocket for the white paper bag of mints I had bought earlier that day and popped one into my mouth. I had long forgotten what Sundays had been like. I was used to twenty-four hour shops, buying online and the delights of DIY stores packed full of families. Here the newsagent was open until twelve-thirty, and then the only distraction for families had for the rest of the day was gazing into closed estate agents’ windows. ‘Closed? Don’t they realise how much business they’re losing?’ I muttered to myself. It would take them another decade to learn that.
I suppose to have behaved truly appropriately for the year I was in I should have passed the time smoking, but that is something I never really got into, even before it became illegal. The pub I had visited earlier had been thick with tobacco smoke and it took time for my eyes and throat to adjust. Despite the walk along the lake’s edge, I could still smell the stink deep in my clothes,. I had expected to while away the afternoon in the pub, spending my carefully gathered period coins on beer and peanuts, buying just enough packets to reveal the scantily clad woman on the card fixed up behind the bar. But of course, they had closed mid-afternoon and I had had to skulk around the park, reading tabloid newspapers that I found in the waste bins, waiting for night to fall before they would let me back in. Not for the first time I wondered why the youth of this time had not committed mass suicide. School must have come as a blessing each Monday. Just spending one day here was bad enough for me. I suppose that was why Patrick had drunk, he could pass many Sundays happily time smoking dope and downing whisky at his old farmhouse with Carol, Karen, Bob and Matt. Once again I moved my head to see if I could catch a glimpse of the house through the trees, but it was dark and too many leaves still clung on to give me a clear view. Anyway, tonight I knew he would not be there.
To distract me I reached for the blue-spined paperback book about the coming fuel crisis. Wedged in it as a book mark, as if to emphasise the point, was an article about the coming shortage of protein. I wanted to telephone someone and tell them, ‘It’s alright for the moment. You eat too much meat anyway. Instead get those condoms out of the pub toilets and into schools, you’ll do a lot better for mankind, listen to me.’ I ran my fingers over the paper pages and held the book close to my nose. I loved the feel of a non-electronic book. It was just an affectation, pandering to my hobby. Of course it was all wrong: the pages were dark tan and it smelt old, all wrong for a book published in the year I was now in.
I read a few pages and flicked through some more, turning the book to look at the various charts and diagrams. No-one remembers the prophets who get it wrong. They are never recorded in history, or maybe they have come to be. I thought about all the imagined histories of the third world war I had collected on my shelf at home. Every decade of the twentieth century seemed to have had its favourite doom. Idly I tried to remember what it had been in the nineties.
I yawned. My backside was getting sore. The jeans I was wearing were a touch too tight, especially following the roast dinner that I had had. It was a novelty to be dressed this way, in clothes may of animal and plant fibres. I remembered Jean Morris at the university telling me that a glut in cotton had shaped the fashions of the era, it was a ‘historical fact’ she had said. To me they looked impractical and ridiculous. I was not sure that a man of my age would have dressed like this anyway, but the only pictures we could find had shown fashions for young people and I had had to settle for that. I was grateful, though, that I had the loud red-and-white striped sleeveless sweater and the corduroy jacket, I was feeling chilly and I could not turn on the engine to warm myself up. It seemed surprisingly cold for early September, but then I supposed sitting here I was not protected from that breeze off the lake, well, the old gravel pit, to describe it accurately. It had closed down five years earlier and had already evolved into a sailing club for the suburbs, along with a spot of bird watching around the edge. I guess that is what some people did to pass the time on Sundays in the seventies. Everyone told me that television was better in then, but I only remembered dreary Victorian serials.
I did remember one time visiting Uncle Patrick’s and being lent the heavy Soviet binoculars that he had got cheap. ‘Soviet, now that’s an adjective that really dates things.’ I had had to lie flat on my belly, concealed in some rushes the far side of the lake from the club. I had felt excited, like a sniper. All I saw was seagulls skimming the lake surface. ‘Now, when was that? It had to be later, towards the end of the ‘70s.’ I had no desire to run into myself, but could not be certain that I had avoided the chance. Being in my eighties now, the past is not so much another country as somewhere in Britain you have only received postcards from, like Rye or Llandudno.
I suppose the date was well enough into September that school would have started and the next time me and the rest of the family would see Uncle Patrick would be for Christmas. He was the youngest of my mother’s brothers, and my gran had told me the rest of the family had petted him as a child, but I felt my mother had come to look down on him. She, her name was Claire, was irritated by his ways, his inability to settle into what she would call a ‘normal’ life. He never had a wife, just girlfriends and to much of the family that seemed inappropriate for a man entering his forties. My opinion had switched through my youth, at first enjoying what he represented, a place away from the more boring parts of suburbia. His house was almost rural, though in fact not that far from civilization, but it was a rambling place to which all the antiques of the Walker family had accrued. He had nice chocolates and he baked, not always successfully, but there were decent cakes, different stuff from what we had at home. Sometimes though, when I felt myself mature, I disapproved of him like my mother and would sulk until he told me a story of his travels in 1960s.
‘Fool!’ I thought, my brain must be addled. I must have come here in 1975, as we only came here once after his death and that was for the funeral. My mother spent months disposing of all the junk. I remember her looking thin and ill, her face scratched from cutting back the hedges. Those months were a heavy burden on her as she fended off Patrick’s strange friends. Carol flipped as a result of his death, and there were mutters she had gone into an institution. It was only years later I found out that was true. Matt had been beaten close to death by some thugs Patrick had been protecting him from. As time passed it turned out that Patrick’s house out here had been a kind of refuge. His sometimes nihilist attitude to things hid a real altruism. It was only when I read a line from Irini Papagos’s autobiography about the help he had given her when she fled the Colonels’ regime that I began to see more than Uncle Patrick in the late Patrick Walker.
I tracked down references to his artwork as well, just a few small exhibitions, but it made me curious as to where it had all gone after his death. I remembered the outhouse we had been forbidden from entering, that Patrick kept closed with a padlock. He would sometimes emerge from it when our car pulled up, but as a child I had always imagined he was building something like a car. Then again I always was more focused on eccentric inventions, part of what got me here.
I looked at my watch once more. It was twenty-five past. I stirred myself into action. I remembered the police report I had accessed had said death had occurred sometime between nine thirty and ten on Sunday 21st September 1975. It would have been a guess I suppose, but so far I had neither seen or heard any traffic, neither Patrick’s car nor the one he was going to crash into. I switched on the main car lights. This lane was unlit, and though the Moon occasionally cast a bright grey over things, there were too many shadows from the trees and bushes. I did not want to provide an alternative obstacle for Patrick to crash his car into.
I got out of the car, opened the boot and took out the red triangle. Realising it must be close to nine thirty and I was just two corners from where his car went off the road I hurried. My movements were mechanical, I had thought this through so many times, that it was hard to believe it was finally happening. I walked away from the back of the car, looking for a good spot to set up the triangle. My hands were trembling. To people of 1975 I would look closer to fifty than eighty, the wonders they can do these days, but physical regeneration cannot overcome the burden of all the memories, more than that, all the worries, the what-ifs that you have stored in your brain.
My stomach leapt and I looked up sharply as I heard the car’s engine. I fumbled for the small torch in my pocket. It was an original, not too powerful, but that was what I wanted, to alert Patrick, not to dazzle him. Then, faster than I guessed the car rounded the corner. I thought it was going to hit me, but it twisted to the side scraping along the hedge that edged the field opposite the lake. I thought he would power on, ignoring me, and I wondered if my delay would have been enough to make him avoid the accident. Then he stopped, almost level with my car. I walked quickly over to him, eager that he did not drive off. I could still get everything back to plan.
The engine was idling as I approached the car. It was a large two-door vehicle, wasteful of petrol, what was it? A Cortina, a Capri? I tried to remember the names. The window wound down slow and jerkily. I had to remind myself that that was how they were once operated. A woman’s face popped out. As I saw it in the weak light shed by Patrick’s car and my own, I felt as if punched. It was Claire, my mother, I knew that face so well, though not with the lipstick smeared across it as I saw it now.
“Do you need a hand?” She spoke, but her words were broken by a belch. “A hand?” She waved one at me, the nail-polish on the tips struck me as wrong too.
I coughed and made incoherent sounds, things were coming unravelled. I walked closer to the car. As I did the driver lent closer, across Claire. It was Patrick, the blond hair, the curled sideburns were just as I had seen them on innumerable holos.
“Yes, yes, the car’s, the car’s buggered.” I stuttered.
“Right. Let me have a look.” Typically, in moments Patrick had cut the engine and sprang from the car. Then he stopped and lent back in. I realised he had stopped to kiss Claire, not the kiss of brother at all.
Breathing came hard to me. I staggered a little. Patrick noticed and pulled himself away. Claire’s hand stroked his as he did.
Patrick walked briskly round to my car. I had forgotten his size, his energy, but it was clear as he moved that he was drunk or drugged or both. I did not know how he had got this far down the narrow lane without an accident already. He pulled open the driver’s door and got into my car, his foot slipping for a moment as he did. He glanced back at me, as if fearful of giving himself away. I guessed if I had met a man dressed like me in his fifties I could mistake him for an off-duty police captain too.
I handed Patrick the keys and he tried turning the engine a couple of times. I knew the fault. I had engineered it about thirty minutes earlier. Getting hold of dirty spark plugs in the mid-twenty-first century had been a nightmare, but they seemed to be doing their job.
I glanced over at Claire who was sipping from a wine bottle and fiddling with the car radio. She found something she liked, I was trying to remember whether it was too early for ABBA and too late for T-Rex.
Patrick had opened the bonnet and was rooting around ineffectually. “You’re right mate it’s buggered.”
“Thanks for looking, Patrick.” I almost vomited in that second. I stood shivering, fearful of what I had done. In instants all the dangers that I risked flashed through my brain, but my words seemed not have penetrated.
“I’ll drive you back to mine, it’s just round the corner, you can call from there. You’re with the AA or something?”
“Can’t I just use your...” I cut my words off, this was an age without mobile ‘phones, let alone anything more sophisticated. “No. I’ve been abroad, South Africa, only got back into the country recently.”
“You don’t sound like a South African.” Now Patrick looked dubious.
“I’m not. I’m a reporter.” I realised I had picked the wrong country. I tried to remember when apartheid had ended there, was it ‘70s or not until later? “It’s terrible what’s happening there.” I said, feeling it covered all avenues.
“Yeah, it is. You’ve seen it up close?”
“Yeah. Terrible.” I repeated.
“Well, come on, get in. There’s always room at my place to crash. Lock up and come over.”
I killed the lights and packed the red triangle back in the boot. I locked the car but knew I would not be coming back to it.
I walked over to Patrick’s car. Claire had got into the back, and Patrick shoved the door open for me. I got in. The interior stunk: it was a mix of cheap wine, cigarettes and sex.
“I’m Patrick, this is Claire.”
“Hi!” She called from the back.
“I’m Professor Adrian Elmsley.”
“Elmsley?” Claire muttered.
For an instant I cursed. I had forgotten the fake name I had been using.
“Very formal.” Patrick said as he started the car. The wheels span for an instant on the dry dusty surface of the lane before getting a grip. The car started forward with a jerk.
“Friends call me Ade.” I tried to correct my error as the car pulled quickly away.
“Good to meet you.” He said extending his hand. I shook it, but with the other was searching for the seatbelt.
I jammed the metal tongue of the seatbelt into the mechanism, it was stiff, suggesting it was rarely used. It snapped into place as the car powered away, throwing me forward against it for an instant. Claire laughed. Steering one-handed Patrick reached for the cigarette packet and snatched out a cigarette.
“It’s quite dangerous down here.” I said nervously. I tried to see what my watch said, but it was too dark. I assumed it must be passed the time the original accident had happened and the other car would be safely away.
“I could drive it blindfolded, I come down here twice a day, all weathers.”
“That’s right.” Claire said proudly. She reached forward to drape her arms around her lover’s shoulders. He touched her hands with his fingertips.
“Ade’s a nice name.” Claire added.
I looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. We were approaching the last stretch and I let out a breath as I realised we were clear of the gravel pit lake, beyond where the accident happened. In moments we would be at the short side road to Patrick’s house. Then the car appeared to slew sideways, Patrick’s hands grabbed at the steering wheel which seemed to be spinning uncontrollably. In the headlights I could see the large oak that sat beside the track to his house.
My body was wrenched against the seatbelt. Even now I can feel the sensation of the belt like a bar slammed diagonally across my chest. The sound was horrific, the crunching, the shattering, the squeal of metal. Afterwards I was astounded at how the front of the car had compressed so much.
I do not know if I blacked out, but it seemed like hours before I could make sense of what was around me. Patrick lay sprawled across the dashboard, as if he was trying to crawl out where the windscreen had been. Glass was everywhere. The engine had stopped and there were no sounds, none at all. I wondered if I had been deafened by it, but as I finally moved I could hear the noise of shards sliding off me. Then I remembered Claire, I twisted round to see where she was. I guess if she had been in my seat, she might have been luckier, but now her forehead was a bloody mass. Her body had crumpled Patrick’s seat, adding to the force throwing him forward. Her eyes were open but a thick cover of blood streaked down over them. I vomited over myself again and again. I sat dazed for how long, I have no idea. The man who pulled me out was a local farmer, it was only when I returned here that I realised he had been the victim in the previous version of the crash, so I suppose I had achieved something.
So here we are looking at ‘Woman III’ by Patrick Walker. He made a regional gallery, if nothing else, mainly because his muse was not around to destroy all his work after his tragic accident.
Friday, 13 February 2009
Time Travellers and the Middle Ages
Beside Philip K. Dick (1928-82), Michael Crichton (1942-2008) is probably the science fiction author who has had more of novels turned into movies than any other. Well, he has had more full length novels adapted whereas Dick had more short stories used.
Dick had: 'Blade Runner' (1982) from 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?' (1968); 'Total Recall' (1990) from short story 'We Can Remember It For You Wholesale' (1966); 'Confessions d'un Barlo' (1992) from 'Confessions of a Crap Artist' (1959); 'Screamers' (1995) from short story 'Second Variety' (1953); 'Imposter' (2001; short story 1953); 'Minority Report' (2002) from 'The Minority Report' (1991); 'Paycheck' (2003; short story 1952); 'A Scanner Darkly' (2006; novel 1977) and 'Next' (2007) from short story 'The Golden Man' (1954).
Crichton had: 'The Andromeda Strain' (1971; novel 1969); 'Dealing: Or the Berkeley-to-Boston Forty-Brick Lost-Bag Blues' (1972; novel written with his brother in 1970); 'The Carey Treatment (A Case of Need)' (1972) from 'A Case of Need' (1968) - neither of these two are science fiction, but I include them here for completeness; 'Westworld' (1973, Crichton wrote the screenplay and directed it rather than it coming from a novel); 'The Terminal Man' (1974; novel 1972); 'The First Great Train Robbery' (1979 - Crichton directed) based on his novel 'The Great Train Robbery' (1975); 'Looker' (1981 - Crichton wrote screenplay and directed); 'Runaway' (1984 - Crichton wrote screenplay and directed); 'Jurassic Park' (1993; novel 1990); 'Rising Sun' (1993; novel 1992); 'Disclosure' (1994; novel 1994 too); 'Congo' (1995; novel 1980); 'The Lost World: Jurassic Park' (1997) based on 'The Lost World' (1995); Sphere (1999; novel 1987); 'The Thirteenth Warrior' (1999) based on the novel 'Eaters of the Dead' (1976) - set in Viking times; and 'Timeline' (2003; novel 1999).
Even in contemporary-set movies such as 'Rising Sun' and 'Disclosure' Crichton included elements which were technologically cutting-edge at the time, if less extraordinary than those of 'Jurassic Park' or 'Timeline'. I am sure we will see many more of Crichton's novels made into movies in the coming years. Anyway, this forms a rather distracted introduction to this posting. The reason is that having seen the movie 'Timeline' twice I started reading the novel. Friends have said how good it is, but actually I find it incredibly frustrating for a number of reasons, and I enjoy the plot of the movie much more.
The movie cost US$80 million to make and only took US$19 million in the USA because of condemnation by critics. It is an enjoyable film about archaeologists who using quantum physics technology created by a company called ITC, pass through a wormhole back to the castle and monastery in medieval southern France that they have been excavating. It turns out that an employee of the corporation that has invented the technology has made a career there for himself and causes problems for the time travellers combined with the fact that they arrive in the middle of a battle between French and English forces forming part of the Hundred Years War.
The direction of the movie was criticised. Perhaps director Richard Donner (born 1930) was simply getting too old and should have retired. Despite a strong record, his direction in this movie is poor in allowing the dialogue to overlap and become confusing and some of the actors to seem to lack conviction in what they do. There are criticisms of the extras, I read them described as 'bored union workers', in fact most were amateurs, people who do re-enactment for a hobby and are probably not used to being extras. Maybe this was an error.
The movie suffers from miscasting. Anna Friel is inappropriate as a French noblewoman and Billy Connolly just about pulls it off as the archaeology professor, but someone with more gravitas would have done better. With better direction we could have seen the quality of acting that he delivers in 'The Last Samurai' (2003) but instead he is on default setting, not bad but not good enough. Interestingly, two of the female characters in the novel, Kramer and Gomez are replaced by male characters in the movie. It would have been a better movie if rather than playing Robert Doniger, the US head of ITC, British actor, David Thewlis had been cast in the Professor Johnston role. In addition, as some critics suggested, if Marek rather than Chris was the hero of the movie, though this ambivalence between the two leading male characters is present in the novel too.
Paul Walker who plays Chris who in the movie is the son of Professor Johnston (in the novel is just another archaeologist), is particularly criticised. He is not a good actor, but even in the novel he is supposed to be a weak character concerned with trying to get off with women, which usually fails. In the movies we (well especially US audiences) cannot tolerate such a weak person in the lead. Walker is a poor actor put into the part of a man in a position to talk the blows. In the novel he is weak, but knowledgeable. In the movie he does not even like history and it seems foolish to send him back. Frances O'Connor is another poor actor and seems suited only for playing rather brainless American women and so is miscast as the archaeologist, Kate Ericson, who is also supposed to be a very competent rock climber, she looks like she would curse if she broke a nail let alone scale a mountain.
Many of the things that the movie was criticised for actually come from the peculiarities of the novel. People felt that for time travel there should be more effects. In some way the lack of effects reflects the methodology for the time travel as described in the novel, so you cannot really blame the director Richard Donner for that, though he did drive for low CGI content in the movie. Many critics were surprised that the time travellers gave no thought for the future consequences of their actions. However, from the novel, you know that Crichton believed there can be no future consequences of time travller's actions, certainly not in this universe. Unlike the travellers in the movie who simply move through our time, those in the novel go into a different universe, so whatever they do there will have an effect, but only in that universe, not our own. I dislike the fact that, because ITC have no way of reconstituting the bodies teleported through the wormhole (effectively 'faxed') we have to accept that the people that arrive are their exact replicas sent from a different universe where they have the capability to do the reconstitution at the end of the journey.
Aside from this different interpretation of time travel, which it is clear would be incredibly difficult to get across in a movie, there are other reasons why I prefer the story as it plays out in the movie rather than the novel. In the movie seven people are sent back rather than five. The two security staff are eliminated at the beginning so causing the damage back at base. In there are only three rather than four archaeologists, but it almost feels like it is an episode of the 'Keystone Kops' on paper. They simply run from place to place to place incessantly in the story and it gets bewildering. In the movie they are pursued regularly, but there are also moments of tranquility for the audience to catch up. In the novel almost every person who is met in the past is utterly cruel. In the movie some of this is retained as illustrated by the arbitrary killing of French archaeology student, Francois Dontelle (who does not appear in the novel) by Lord Oliver de Vannes (played by good actor Michael Sheen) brings this home. However, we do not need the constant cruelty that Crichton lays on so thickly and repeatedly in the novel. Ironically, he points out the sophisticated elements of medieval life and yet undermines this by suggesting that you could not walk a couple of metres without someone beheading you.
Crichton's novel also annoys me as he seems to subscribe to that horrible American attitude that hard times bring out the best in people. Chris in the novel goes from being a whimpering worrier to some macho-man, not as strong as his re-enactor friend Marek, but still, very different from what he was in the 20th century. This is a dangerous attitude to adopt. It smacks of the culture fostered by 'Iron John: A Book About Men' (1990) by Robert Bly that modern men are weak and useless and only by going back to primitive behaviour can they be 'real' men. This myth fosters that terrible American post-apocalyptic dream that after some disaster a simpler, better world would arrive which would be like frontier society and allow men to run around with guns being 'real' men. These sentiments in fact conflict with Crichton's portayal (presumably to instil drama) of an utterly cruel, brutal, arbitrary medieval society in which thinkers are slaughered and even the strongest (like Marek who can ride, joust, fight with a sword and kill) suffer.
As I have noted reviewers expect characters in movies to have complete awareness of all movie culture. A number ask had the characters not seen 'Back to the Future'? To some degree we could ask the reviewers if they think that physics actually works the way it does in movies? They seem to say that it must and anyone ignorant of movie physics is foolish. I suggest they check out the 'Hollywood Science' programme which puts numerous portrayals of scientific occurrences to the test. How do we know that the Bob Gale/Robert Zemeckis writing of time travel is any more or less accurate than the Michael Crichton one? Of course the reviewers had no knowledge of the novel and so could only criticise the movie. It does raise an alarming thought though, that audiences will no longer accept characters who do not have the same level of media awareness as themselves. Interestingly a French character might have had their view of time travel far more influenced by 'Les Visiteurs' than by 'Back to the Future'.
Saying all this, I like the fact that in the movie the actions in the past influence the future. There is a flaw in Crichton's novel, because for all he says about the different universes, Professor Johnston's spectacles which he dropped at the other end of the wormhole turn up back in our world. So I am glad to see in the movie that the severing of a character's ear and his subsequent marriage and the smashing through of a secret passageway are reflected in the archaeological finds of today. I suppose this is because I am a romantic.
Another criticism of the movie is the lack of issue over the languages people speak. Again the movie was hampered by what is written in the novel. In the book the travellers have earpieces that translate for them. Half of them have studied Occitan, the language of southern France and they know Latin. For a movie this would probably all seem too scholarly and anyway mainstream US and UK audiences loathe sub-titles or characters speaking in languages they do not understand. They would always prefer strangely accented English.
Crichton put immense effort into researching for the novel. The idea for it was triggered from real accounts of a medieval 'magister', an intellectual/inventor/scholar working in the Dordogne region and travelling with a group of assistants during the Hundred Years War and from this basis Crichton wove the story. However, even he makes some mistakes. We know now, that in contrast to the example illustrated in his novel, trebuchet siege machines work far better is put on wheels when firing rather than being flat on the ground. The movie is criticised for showing Johnston using Greek Fire, the formula for which has still not been rediscovered. Yet, again, this stems from the fact that in the novel, that Johnston creates better gunpowder and a far more flammable oil which is difficult to put out. They are not Greek Fire but they satisfy the lords seeking assistance; for the movie the explanation of these chemicals is simply termed Greek Fire.
It is a shame that flaws in the movie made it a flop. However, being based on the novel made it impossible to make a movie that contemporary English-speaking audiences would have willingly accepted. If Crichton had directed it the acting may have been better but viewers would have found it much harder to comprehend and it would have been purged of the romance and the genuine excitement (as opposed to repeated terrors) that are a part of its appeal.
Having read this novel and reflected on it, I began thinking about other stories revolving around time travellers to and from the Middle Ages. I suppose the era is a popular destination as it allows writers to get in more drama that is wrapped up in a style familiar to the audience. Of course the first entry in this genre is 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court' (1889) by Mark Twain (there have been movie versions in 1921, 1931 and a musical version which I have seen, with Bing Crosby in the lead, in 1949; a stage musical version was first produced in 1927, an animated movie in 1970 and another live action one in 1989). It was published six years before H.G. Wells's 'The Time Machine' and has a non-mechanical method of time travel, like that found in novels such as 'A Traveller in Time' (1939) by Alison Uttley. In Twain's story, Hank Morgan is beaten up by one of his employees and wakes up in 528 CE, the time of King Arthur. He manages to survive and strengthens his position by using modern technology to the extent that by the end of the novel with 12 Gatling guns and a belt of dynamite to face down thousands of soldiers. Merlin is electrocuted when he touches a wire that operates part of Morgan's system. Twain was trying to dampen the late 19th century enthusiasm for their view of the medieval past, which was often inaccurate anyway, and which he felt had led to misguided men of the Confederacy to go to war under some illusion that they were a kind of modern knight (perhaps we still see echoes of this delusion in the post-apocalyptic dream noted above).
Morgan wins by using modern technology and advancing the abilities of the locals, a theme taken up in 'Lest Darkness Fall' (1941) by Le Sprague De Camp set at the end of the Roman Empire; 'The Cross Time Engineer' (1988), 'The High Tech Knight' (1989), 'The Radiant Warrior' (1989), 'The Flying Warlord' (1989) and 'Lord Conrad's Lady' (1990), 'Conrad's Quest For Rubber' (1998), 'Conrad's Time Machine' (2004) and 'Lord Conrad's Crusade' (2005) by Leo Frankowski featuring a Polish engineer of 1986 travelling back to help the Poles of 1231 against the coming Mongol invasion of 1241 by developing their technology. Whereas Twain's hero came into friction with the Catholic Church, Frankowski's, Conrad Stargard, assists it. In contrast to these novels in Poul Anderson's short story, 'The Man Who Came Early' (1956) - 10th century Iceland and especially Ford Maddox Ford's 'Ladies Whose Bright Eyes' (1911; revised 1935) - 14th century Europe, which was provoked by Twain's story, both see their heroes have an inability to alter technological development at the time.
Other movie jaunts into the Middle Ages have included the Disney movie, 'A Spaceman and King Arthur' (1979) in which a spaceman from the 20th century, Tom Trimble, and his replica, an android, Hermes, travel faster than the speed of light and end up at Camelot, though the high medieval rather than early medieval version usually shown. As in many of these stories, it is influenced by Twain's novel, and he uses his technology (which appears advanced even for the time the movie was made) to impress Arthur and he helps to defend him from a plot by Merlin to dethrone him. The movie is filled with British actors - Kenneth More is King Arthur, Ron Moody is Merlin and other British acting stalwarts like John LeMesurier, Jim Dale, Rodney Bewes and Pat Roach appear. Disney also produced 'A Kid in King Arthur's Court' (1995) about a boy thrown back in time to the 6th century by an earthquake. He assists the elderly King Arthur by using modern technology he has brought with him. The US movie features leading UK actors: Kate Winslet (born 1975) as a princess, Ron Moody (yet again) as Merlin though on Arthur's side this time, Joss Acland as King Arthur and Art Malik as a lord. Another Disney movie on this theme is 'A Knight in Camelot' (1998) with Whoopi Goldberg as a physicist going back to King Arthur's court and using her knowledge to predict an eclipse as in the Twain novel and subsequently as Sir Boss of the Round Table uses modern technology to defend the king. Paloma Baeza who appeard in 'A Kid in King Arthur's Court' is also in this movie; British actors are represented by Michael York as King Arthur and Ian Richardson as Merlin. Then there is 'Black Knight' (2001) which features Martin Lawrence (all of these three movies have had black US actors as the lead) as a worker at a medieval theme park who being knocked into a fake moat ends up in medieval England we assume, but there is a King Leo on the throne who has overthrown the previous queen, so this is clearly some alternate universe. He learns useful lessons about hard work and honour and getting on through education for when he is thrown back to 21st century USA. His burgeoning romance with Nicole (seemingly the descendant of the Victoria he met in the Middle Ages) comes to an abrupt halt when he is again thrown back in time to find himself in a Roman gladiatorial arena facing lions.
To some extent time travel stories to the Middle Ages are about reflecting on our own time. Crichton does this with even Doniger the entrepreneur noting how much of modern society rests on medieval roots. It also puts forward thoughts about whether our world is better than the past for being healthier and less brutal or in some ways worse, for becoming over-complex and in some people's views very 'weak'. Perhaps the only people we can ask to judge this effectively are those women who claimed to have memories of being Cathar heretics who were violently purged in the 13th century (featured most recently on 'Tony Robinson and The Medieval Reincarnation, shown 31st December 2008 on Channel 4).
The other side of the time travelling coin is the travelling of medieval people to modern times. Generally these scenarios are played for humour. The stories that I know in this regard are 'Catweazle' (1969 and 1971) about a down-at-heel sorceror, Catweazle (brilliantly played by Geoffrey Bayldon (born 1924) from 1066 travelling to contemporary Britain. There were two series (all now available to buy on DVD) in the first he arrives at a farm in Surrey and in the second at a stately home in Bedfordshire. Getting to grips with modern technology and the reaction of modern people provides much humour. The second series was aimed more at the US audience and unfortunately substituted slapstick humour and extended chases for the more involved stories and fish-out-of-water focused humour of the first series. The series does lead us to reflect on the elements of modern technology and how much we take them for granted.
These themes are also taken up in the movies, 'Les Visiteurs' (1993), Les Visiteurs II: Les Couloirs du temps' (1998) and the US remake of the first movie, 'Just Visiting' (2001). All of these movies star internationally known French actor Jean Reno and Christian Clavier (who along with the director Jean-Marie Poire was co-screenwriter). 'Les Visiteurs' was one of the most successful French movies ever. Its sequel was poorly received because of changes in the cast (though given how horribly squeaky Valerie Lemercier's voice is, it was quite a blessing to have her replaced by Muriel Robin and product placement in the movie, no doubt a consequence of the previous movie's success, notably for Nestle chocolate and Nesquik, Bosch car parts, Pizza Hut, KFC and Grand Marnier. The French movies feature the Count of Montmirail (Reno) who is cursed by a witch and consequently kills his fiancee's father, the Duke of Pouille. In an effort to correct his error Montmirail gets a wizard to send him and his servant Jacquouille (Clavier) back in time instead he is sent forward to the same area but in 1993. Montmirail finds his descendant, Beatrice (played by Valerie Lemercier), is still living there though his castle has been transformed into a hotel, which ironically is owned by a descendant of the Jacquouille (again Clavier). Beatrice thinks Montmirail is her long-lost cousin, Hubert and takes him in while he tries to find the way back to his own time. Anyway, humour results as the medieval men deal with modern technology. The second movie despite the flaws, is still very funny with comedy both in the 12th and 20th centuries of the same ilk as in the first movie. I felt it could have been wrapped up a little more neatly, the relationship between the Count and Jacqueline (Arielle Semenoff), daughter of the cousin Hubert and the hints of an admiration from Hubert's estranged wife, Cora, seem unresolved. Also we do not know if the corridors of time which have been causing plagues in the 12th century are ever closed. It feels as if a third movie was expected which as it never appeared, is a shame. Anyway, it is still a laugh.
In 'Just Visiting' the story is similar but set in 12th century England where the Count Thibault of Malfete (Reno) is coming with his servant Andre (Clavier) to marry the King of England's daughter, Lady Rosalind (Christine Applegate) but the Earl of Warwick tries to use a witch's potion to make the princess see Thibault as a demon, instead Thibault drinks the potion and kills his fiancee. Arrested for murder, Thibault employs a wizard who sends him and his servant to 21st century Chicago (where a chunk of the castle is on show in a museum). Here he finds his descendant, Julia Malfete (Applegate) works at the museum and is being exploited by her unfaithful boyfriend who wants her to liquidate the lands she has inherited in Britain and France. Again there is humour around the count and his servant misusing modern technology. US reviewers felt the humour in 'Just Visiting' was more family-friendly than the more crass humour of 'Les Visiteurs', but that is simply snobbery, aside from the joke around the servant's name being 'jackass', the jokes in the movies are almost identical.
Though these are comedy movies, there are underlying currents which are interesting and to some extent show up the differences between how the societies of France and the USA see themselves. Of course, they have often seen paralllels between the two in the past, but nowadays, I would argue there are more differences than similarities, something, that I imagine, Reno who has worked on both sides of the Atlantic is very conscious of. In 'Les Visiteurs', Montmirial is proud to see he has a descendant over eight centuries into the future. There is a lot of emphasis on the continuity of life in a French town, that local people have connections. He is disheartened his descendant is not as powerful as he was and has lost the castle, but seems reconciled to the differences. Importantly, learning of the French Revolution (referenced in 'Les Visiteurs II') Jacquouille sees that he does not have to be beholden to feudal rules and sets out to establish his own life in late 20th century France. The appreciation is for the continuities and differences in French society and of the potential that can come from a family going on.
Ther US perspective is different. To some degree it reflects the attitude to the Middle Ages that I noted in Crichton's work above, i.e. that these were times when men were 'real' men. Malfete's chivalry is contrasted with Julia's boyfriend Hunter. She is encouraged by her ancestor to be 'lion-hearted' and is taught to wield a sword. The correct path for her is seen as connecting back with her noble heritage and keeping the lands, and meeting a handsome Frenchman. To some extent rather antithetical to the 'land of opportunity' of the USA. However, that perspective by Andre who learns that in the USA anyone with wealth can have everything and lift themselves up to a life of luxury. This contrasts with the more meritocratic situation in the French movie, though there, Jacquouille's descendant is rather looked down upon by the Montmirials as noveau-riche, but he is the one who owns the hotel. Thus, the French version has a different view of the past, that it is important but there is no way we should really be apeing it, whereas the American version has a kind of idea that we need more medieval values in our current society and to some degree that does not mean opportunity through effort or merit, but, just as in the Middle Ages, through arbitrary things such as titles, a family name or wealth.
Have we exhausted our interest in time travelling to the Middle Ages? I do not think so. Though there are some examples that suggest that travel to other time periods may be becoming popular, e.g. the early 19th century in 'Lost in Austen' (2008) and I know there are thousands of people out there begging the BBC to release on DVD its excellent 1978 series of 'A Traveller in Time' featuring a 20th century girl travelling back to Elizabethan England. Please BBC, you can do it! However, for now, I think the ease of slipping into medieval settings and similarly the humour of medieval people coming here will mean we will see regular revivals of this kind of story. The challenge is always going to be balancing authenticity against what the audience feels it can comprehend, without then facing criticisms for anachronistic elements in the movie.
Dick had: 'Blade Runner' (1982) from 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?' (1968); 'Total Recall' (1990) from short story 'We Can Remember It For You Wholesale' (1966); 'Confessions d'un Barlo' (1992) from 'Confessions of a Crap Artist' (1959); 'Screamers' (1995) from short story 'Second Variety' (1953); 'Imposter' (2001; short story 1953); 'Minority Report' (2002) from 'The Minority Report' (1991); 'Paycheck' (2003; short story 1952); 'A Scanner Darkly' (2006; novel 1977) and 'Next' (2007) from short story 'The Golden Man' (1954).
Crichton had: 'The Andromeda Strain' (1971; novel 1969); 'Dealing: Or the Berkeley-to-Boston Forty-Brick Lost-Bag Blues' (1972; novel written with his brother in 1970); 'The Carey Treatment (A Case of Need)' (1972) from 'A Case of Need' (1968) - neither of these two are science fiction, but I include them here for completeness; 'Westworld' (1973, Crichton wrote the screenplay and directed it rather than it coming from a novel); 'The Terminal Man' (1974; novel 1972); 'The First Great Train Robbery' (1979 - Crichton directed) based on his novel 'The Great Train Robbery' (1975); 'Looker' (1981 - Crichton wrote screenplay and directed); 'Runaway' (1984 - Crichton wrote screenplay and directed); 'Jurassic Park' (1993; novel 1990); 'Rising Sun' (1993; novel 1992); 'Disclosure' (1994; novel 1994 too); 'Congo' (1995; novel 1980); 'The Lost World: Jurassic Park' (1997) based on 'The Lost World' (1995); Sphere (1999; novel 1987); 'The Thirteenth Warrior' (1999) based on the novel 'Eaters of the Dead' (1976) - set in Viking times; and 'Timeline' (2003; novel 1999).
Even in contemporary-set movies such as 'Rising Sun' and 'Disclosure' Crichton included elements which were technologically cutting-edge at the time, if less extraordinary than those of 'Jurassic Park' or 'Timeline'. I am sure we will see many more of Crichton's novels made into movies in the coming years. Anyway, this forms a rather distracted introduction to this posting. The reason is that having seen the movie 'Timeline' twice I started reading the novel. Friends have said how good it is, but actually I find it incredibly frustrating for a number of reasons, and I enjoy the plot of the movie much more.
The movie cost US$80 million to make and only took US$19 million in the USA because of condemnation by critics. It is an enjoyable film about archaeologists who using quantum physics technology created by a company called ITC, pass through a wormhole back to the castle and monastery in medieval southern France that they have been excavating. It turns out that an employee of the corporation that has invented the technology has made a career there for himself and causes problems for the time travellers combined with the fact that they arrive in the middle of a battle between French and English forces forming part of the Hundred Years War.
The direction of the movie was criticised. Perhaps director Richard Donner (born 1930) was simply getting too old and should have retired. Despite a strong record, his direction in this movie is poor in allowing the dialogue to overlap and become confusing and some of the actors to seem to lack conviction in what they do. There are criticisms of the extras, I read them described as 'bored union workers', in fact most were amateurs, people who do re-enactment for a hobby and are probably not used to being extras. Maybe this was an error.
The movie suffers from miscasting. Anna Friel is inappropriate as a French noblewoman and Billy Connolly just about pulls it off as the archaeology professor, but someone with more gravitas would have done better. With better direction we could have seen the quality of acting that he delivers in 'The Last Samurai' (2003) but instead he is on default setting, not bad but not good enough. Interestingly, two of the female characters in the novel, Kramer and Gomez are replaced by male characters in the movie. It would have been a better movie if rather than playing Robert Doniger, the US head of ITC, British actor, David Thewlis had been cast in the Professor Johnston role. In addition, as some critics suggested, if Marek rather than Chris was the hero of the movie, though this ambivalence between the two leading male characters is present in the novel too.
Paul Walker who plays Chris who in the movie is the son of Professor Johnston (in the novel is just another archaeologist), is particularly criticised. He is not a good actor, but even in the novel he is supposed to be a weak character concerned with trying to get off with women, which usually fails. In the movies we (well especially US audiences) cannot tolerate such a weak person in the lead. Walker is a poor actor put into the part of a man in a position to talk the blows. In the novel he is weak, but knowledgeable. In the movie he does not even like history and it seems foolish to send him back. Frances O'Connor is another poor actor and seems suited only for playing rather brainless American women and so is miscast as the archaeologist, Kate Ericson, who is also supposed to be a very competent rock climber, she looks like she would curse if she broke a nail let alone scale a mountain.
Many of the things that the movie was criticised for actually come from the peculiarities of the novel. People felt that for time travel there should be more effects. In some way the lack of effects reflects the methodology for the time travel as described in the novel, so you cannot really blame the director Richard Donner for that, though he did drive for low CGI content in the movie. Many critics were surprised that the time travellers gave no thought for the future consequences of their actions. However, from the novel, you know that Crichton believed there can be no future consequences of time travller's actions, certainly not in this universe. Unlike the travellers in the movie who simply move through our time, those in the novel go into a different universe, so whatever they do there will have an effect, but only in that universe, not our own. I dislike the fact that, because ITC have no way of reconstituting the bodies teleported through the wormhole (effectively 'faxed') we have to accept that the people that arrive are their exact replicas sent from a different universe where they have the capability to do the reconstitution at the end of the journey.
Aside from this different interpretation of time travel, which it is clear would be incredibly difficult to get across in a movie, there are other reasons why I prefer the story as it plays out in the movie rather than the novel. In the movie seven people are sent back rather than five. The two security staff are eliminated at the beginning so causing the damage back at base. In there are only three rather than four archaeologists, but it almost feels like it is an episode of the 'Keystone Kops' on paper. They simply run from place to place to place incessantly in the story and it gets bewildering. In the movie they are pursued regularly, but there are also moments of tranquility for the audience to catch up. In the novel almost every person who is met in the past is utterly cruel. In the movie some of this is retained as illustrated by the arbitrary killing of French archaeology student, Francois Dontelle (who does not appear in the novel) by Lord Oliver de Vannes (played by good actor Michael Sheen) brings this home. However, we do not need the constant cruelty that Crichton lays on so thickly and repeatedly in the novel. Ironically, he points out the sophisticated elements of medieval life and yet undermines this by suggesting that you could not walk a couple of metres without someone beheading you.
Crichton's novel also annoys me as he seems to subscribe to that horrible American attitude that hard times bring out the best in people. Chris in the novel goes from being a whimpering worrier to some macho-man, not as strong as his re-enactor friend Marek, but still, very different from what he was in the 20th century. This is a dangerous attitude to adopt. It smacks of the culture fostered by 'Iron John: A Book About Men' (1990) by Robert Bly that modern men are weak and useless and only by going back to primitive behaviour can they be 'real' men. This myth fosters that terrible American post-apocalyptic dream that after some disaster a simpler, better world would arrive which would be like frontier society and allow men to run around with guns being 'real' men. These sentiments in fact conflict with Crichton's portayal (presumably to instil drama) of an utterly cruel, brutal, arbitrary medieval society in which thinkers are slaughered and even the strongest (like Marek who can ride, joust, fight with a sword and kill) suffer.
As I have noted reviewers expect characters in movies to have complete awareness of all movie culture. A number ask had the characters not seen 'Back to the Future'? To some degree we could ask the reviewers if they think that physics actually works the way it does in movies? They seem to say that it must and anyone ignorant of movie physics is foolish. I suggest they check out the 'Hollywood Science' programme which puts numerous portrayals of scientific occurrences to the test. How do we know that the Bob Gale/Robert Zemeckis writing of time travel is any more or less accurate than the Michael Crichton one? Of course the reviewers had no knowledge of the novel and so could only criticise the movie. It does raise an alarming thought though, that audiences will no longer accept characters who do not have the same level of media awareness as themselves. Interestingly a French character might have had their view of time travel far more influenced by 'Les Visiteurs' than by 'Back to the Future'.
Saying all this, I like the fact that in the movie the actions in the past influence the future. There is a flaw in Crichton's novel, because for all he says about the different universes, Professor Johnston's spectacles which he dropped at the other end of the wormhole turn up back in our world. So I am glad to see in the movie that the severing of a character's ear and his subsequent marriage and the smashing through of a secret passageway are reflected in the archaeological finds of today. I suppose this is because I am a romantic.
Another criticism of the movie is the lack of issue over the languages people speak. Again the movie was hampered by what is written in the novel. In the book the travellers have earpieces that translate for them. Half of them have studied Occitan, the language of southern France and they know Latin. For a movie this would probably all seem too scholarly and anyway mainstream US and UK audiences loathe sub-titles or characters speaking in languages they do not understand. They would always prefer strangely accented English.
Crichton put immense effort into researching for the novel. The idea for it was triggered from real accounts of a medieval 'magister', an intellectual/inventor/scholar working in the Dordogne region and travelling with a group of assistants during the Hundred Years War and from this basis Crichton wove the story. However, even he makes some mistakes. We know now, that in contrast to the example illustrated in his novel, trebuchet siege machines work far better is put on wheels when firing rather than being flat on the ground. The movie is criticised for showing Johnston using Greek Fire, the formula for which has still not been rediscovered. Yet, again, this stems from the fact that in the novel, that Johnston creates better gunpowder and a far more flammable oil which is difficult to put out. They are not Greek Fire but they satisfy the lords seeking assistance; for the movie the explanation of these chemicals is simply termed Greek Fire.
It is a shame that flaws in the movie made it a flop. However, being based on the novel made it impossible to make a movie that contemporary English-speaking audiences would have willingly accepted. If Crichton had directed it the acting may have been better but viewers would have found it much harder to comprehend and it would have been purged of the romance and the genuine excitement (as opposed to repeated terrors) that are a part of its appeal.
Having read this novel and reflected on it, I began thinking about other stories revolving around time travellers to and from the Middle Ages. I suppose the era is a popular destination as it allows writers to get in more drama that is wrapped up in a style familiar to the audience. Of course the first entry in this genre is 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court' (1889) by Mark Twain (there have been movie versions in 1921, 1931 and a musical version which I have seen, with Bing Crosby in the lead, in 1949; a stage musical version was first produced in 1927, an animated movie in 1970 and another live action one in 1989). It was published six years before H.G. Wells's 'The Time Machine' and has a non-mechanical method of time travel, like that found in novels such as 'A Traveller in Time' (1939) by Alison Uttley. In Twain's story, Hank Morgan is beaten up by one of his employees and wakes up in 528 CE, the time of King Arthur. He manages to survive and strengthens his position by using modern technology to the extent that by the end of the novel with 12 Gatling guns and a belt of dynamite to face down thousands of soldiers. Merlin is electrocuted when he touches a wire that operates part of Morgan's system. Twain was trying to dampen the late 19th century enthusiasm for their view of the medieval past, which was often inaccurate anyway, and which he felt had led to misguided men of the Confederacy to go to war under some illusion that they were a kind of modern knight (perhaps we still see echoes of this delusion in the post-apocalyptic dream noted above).
Morgan wins by using modern technology and advancing the abilities of the locals, a theme taken up in 'Lest Darkness Fall' (1941) by Le Sprague De Camp set at the end of the Roman Empire; 'The Cross Time Engineer' (1988), 'The High Tech Knight' (1989), 'The Radiant Warrior' (1989), 'The Flying Warlord' (1989) and 'Lord Conrad's Lady' (1990), 'Conrad's Quest For Rubber' (1998), 'Conrad's Time Machine' (2004) and 'Lord Conrad's Crusade' (2005) by Leo Frankowski featuring a Polish engineer of 1986 travelling back to help the Poles of 1231 against the coming Mongol invasion of 1241 by developing their technology. Whereas Twain's hero came into friction with the Catholic Church, Frankowski's, Conrad Stargard, assists it. In contrast to these novels in Poul Anderson's short story, 'The Man Who Came Early' (1956) - 10th century Iceland and especially Ford Maddox Ford's 'Ladies Whose Bright Eyes' (1911; revised 1935) - 14th century Europe, which was provoked by Twain's story, both see their heroes have an inability to alter technological development at the time.
Other movie jaunts into the Middle Ages have included the Disney movie, 'A Spaceman and King Arthur' (1979) in which a spaceman from the 20th century, Tom Trimble, and his replica, an android, Hermes, travel faster than the speed of light and end up at Camelot, though the high medieval rather than early medieval version usually shown. As in many of these stories, it is influenced by Twain's novel, and he uses his technology (which appears advanced even for the time the movie was made) to impress Arthur and he helps to defend him from a plot by Merlin to dethrone him. The movie is filled with British actors - Kenneth More is King Arthur, Ron Moody is Merlin and other British acting stalwarts like John LeMesurier, Jim Dale, Rodney Bewes and Pat Roach appear. Disney also produced 'A Kid in King Arthur's Court' (1995) about a boy thrown back in time to the 6th century by an earthquake. He assists the elderly King Arthur by using modern technology he has brought with him. The US movie features leading UK actors: Kate Winslet (born 1975) as a princess, Ron Moody (yet again) as Merlin though on Arthur's side this time, Joss Acland as King Arthur and Art Malik as a lord. Another Disney movie on this theme is 'A Knight in Camelot' (1998) with Whoopi Goldberg as a physicist going back to King Arthur's court and using her knowledge to predict an eclipse as in the Twain novel and subsequently as Sir Boss of the Round Table uses modern technology to defend the king. Paloma Baeza who appeard in 'A Kid in King Arthur's Court' is also in this movie; British actors are represented by Michael York as King Arthur and Ian Richardson as Merlin. Then there is 'Black Knight' (2001) which features Martin Lawrence (all of these three movies have had black US actors as the lead) as a worker at a medieval theme park who being knocked into a fake moat ends up in medieval England we assume, but there is a King Leo on the throne who has overthrown the previous queen, so this is clearly some alternate universe. He learns useful lessons about hard work and honour and getting on through education for when he is thrown back to 21st century USA. His burgeoning romance with Nicole (seemingly the descendant of the Victoria he met in the Middle Ages) comes to an abrupt halt when he is again thrown back in time to find himself in a Roman gladiatorial arena facing lions.
To some extent time travel stories to the Middle Ages are about reflecting on our own time. Crichton does this with even Doniger the entrepreneur noting how much of modern society rests on medieval roots. It also puts forward thoughts about whether our world is better than the past for being healthier and less brutal or in some ways worse, for becoming over-complex and in some people's views very 'weak'. Perhaps the only people we can ask to judge this effectively are those women who claimed to have memories of being Cathar heretics who were violently purged in the 13th century (featured most recently on 'Tony Robinson and The Medieval Reincarnation, shown 31st December 2008 on Channel 4).
The other side of the time travelling coin is the travelling of medieval people to modern times. Generally these scenarios are played for humour. The stories that I know in this regard are 'Catweazle' (1969 and 1971) about a down-at-heel sorceror, Catweazle (brilliantly played by Geoffrey Bayldon (born 1924) from 1066 travelling to contemporary Britain. There were two series (all now available to buy on DVD) in the first he arrives at a farm in Surrey and in the second at a stately home in Bedfordshire. Getting to grips with modern technology and the reaction of modern people provides much humour. The second series was aimed more at the US audience and unfortunately substituted slapstick humour and extended chases for the more involved stories and fish-out-of-water focused humour of the first series. The series does lead us to reflect on the elements of modern technology and how much we take them for granted.
These themes are also taken up in the movies, 'Les Visiteurs' (1993), Les Visiteurs II: Les Couloirs du temps' (1998) and the US remake of the first movie, 'Just Visiting' (2001). All of these movies star internationally known French actor Jean Reno and Christian Clavier (who along with the director Jean-Marie Poire was co-screenwriter). 'Les Visiteurs' was one of the most successful French movies ever. Its sequel was poorly received because of changes in the cast (though given how horribly squeaky Valerie Lemercier's voice is, it was quite a blessing to have her replaced by Muriel Robin and product placement in the movie, no doubt a consequence of the previous movie's success, notably for Nestle chocolate and Nesquik, Bosch car parts, Pizza Hut, KFC and Grand Marnier. The French movies feature the Count of Montmirail (Reno) who is cursed by a witch and consequently kills his fiancee's father, the Duke of Pouille. In an effort to correct his error Montmirail gets a wizard to send him and his servant Jacquouille (Clavier) back in time instead he is sent forward to the same area but in 1993. Montmirail finds his descendant, Beatrice (played by Valerie Lemercier), is still living there though his castle has been transformed into a hotel, which ironically is owned by a descendant of the Jacquouille (again Clavier). Beatrice thinks Montmirail is her long-lost cousin, Hubert and takes him in while he tries to find the way back to his own time. Anyway, humour results as the medieval men deal with modern technology. The second movie despite the flaws, is still very funny with comedy both in the 12th and 20th centuries of the same ilk as in the first movie. I felt it could have been wrapped up a little more neatly, the relationship between the Count and Jacqueline (Arielle Semenoff), daughter of the cousin Hubert and the hints of an admiration from Hubert's estranged wife, Cora, seem unresolved. Also we do not know if the corridors of time which have been causing plagues in the 12th century are ever closed. It feels as if a third movie was expected which as it never appeared, is a shame. Anyway, it is still a laugh.
In 'Just Visiting' the story is similar but set in 12th century England where the Count Thibault of Malfete (Reno) is coming with his servant Andre (Clavier) to marry the King of England's daughter, Lady Rosalind (Christine Applegate) but the Earl of Warwick tries to use a witch's potion to make the princess see Thibault as a demon, instead Thibault drinks the potion and kills his fiancee. Arrested for murder, Thibault employs a wizard who sends him and his servant to 21st century Chicago (where a chunk of the castle is on show in a museum). Here he finds his descendant, Julia Malfete (Applegate) works at the museum and is being exploited by her unfaithful boyfriend who wants her to liquidate the lands she has inherited in Britain and France. Again there is humour around the count and his servant misusing modern technology. US reviewers felt the humour in 'Just Visiting' was more family-friendly than the more crass humour of 'Les Visiteurs', but that is simply snobbery, aside from the joke around the servant's name being 'jackass', the jokes in the movies are almost identical.
Though these are comedy movies, there are underlying currents which are interesting and to some extent show up the differences between how the societies of France and the USA see themselves. Of course, they have often seen paralllels between the two in the past, but nowadays, I would argue there are more differences than similarities, something, that I imagine, Reno who has worked on both sides of the Atlantic is very conscious of. In 'Les Visiteurs', Montmirial is proud to see he has a descendant over eight centuries into the future. There is a lot of emphasis on the continuity of life in a French town, that local people have connections. He is disheartened his descendant is not as powerful as he was and has lost the castle, but seems reconciled to the differences. Importantly, learning of the French Revolution (referenced in 'Les Visiteurs II') Jacquouille sees that he does not have to be beholden to feudal rules and sets out to establish his own life in late 20th century France. The appreciation is for the continuities and differences in French society and of the potential that can come from a family going on.
Ther US perspective is different. To some degree it reflects the attitude to the Middle Ages that I noted in Crichton's work above, i.e. that these were times when men were 'real' men. Malfete's chivalry is contrasted with Julia's boyfriend Hunter. She is encouraged by her ancestor to be 'lion-hearted' and is taught to wield a sword. The correct path for her is seen as connecting back with her noble heritage and keeping the lands, and meeting a handsome Frenchman. To some extent rather antithetical to the 'land of opportunity' of the USA. However, that perspective by Andre who learns that in the USA anyone with wealth can have everything and lift themselves up to a life of luxury. This contrasts with the more meritocratic situation in the French movie, though there, Jacquouille's descendant is rather looked down upon by the Montmirials as noveau-riche, but he is the one who owns the hotel. Thus, the French version has a different view of the past, that it is important but there is no way we should really be apeing it, whereas the American version has a kind of idea that we need more medieval values in our current society and to some degree that does not mean opportunity through effort or merit, but, just as in the Middle Ages, through arbitrary things such as titles, a family name or wealth.
Have we exhausted our interest in time travelling to the Middle Ages? I do not think so. Though there are some examples that suggest that travel to other time periods may be becoming popular, e.g. the early 19th century in 'Lost in Austen' (2008) and I know there are thousands of people out there begging the BBC to release on DVD its excellent 1978 series of 'A Traveller in Time' featuring a 20th century girl travelling back to Elizabethan England. Please BBC, you can do it! However, for now, I think the ease of slipping into medieval settings and similarly the humour of medieval people coming here will mean we will see regular revivals of this kind of story. The challenge is always going to be balancing authenticity against what the audience feels it can comprehend, without then facing criticisms for anachronistic elements in the movie.
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