I am not calling this "Artoo goes postal"

Without meaning to be current, I find myself posting about something that is still on the border of being in-the-news: mailboxes.

As you've probably heard (because the media was all over this), last month the United States Postal Service put out special mailboxes decorated to look like R2-D2 to promote an upcoming set of Star Wars stamps (in honor of the 30th anniversary of A New Hope).

Yes, I know enough to identify the film that came out in 1977 as A New Hope rather than as "the first one" because, although it was the first movie to come out, it is, of course, the fourth episode in the storyline. (The last thing I need is to be lambasted by a nitpicky fan who comes across this post.)

No, I have no clever Star Wars-related pun to preface these pictures I took of the R2D2 postal unit. It's not that I probably couldn't think of one (or several), but I am quite certain that no matter what it was, someone else would have already come up with it.

So here you go:





With downtown L.A. in the background (and the sun hidden behind the office building where I work).


















With the Disney Concert Hall in the background.















With the Museum of Contemporary Art in the background.



(If you're not a hardcore fan then you may not be aware of what the url on the mailboxes is for: You can vote here on which stamp should be featured for a first day promotion.)


I found this bit on the Star Wars site where if you click on the "Artoo Spotters" link it shows a slideshow of 170 photos of R2D2 mailboxes (generally with people standing next to them, in various shades of fanaticism--this is my favorite) from around the country. However, amongst those 170 pics there is not a single one of what I've photographed above.

In this flickr group of photos of the boxes, out of 149 shots, there's only one of the unit outside the Disney Concert Hall above. (Do the hardcore fans have some aversion to downtown L.A.?)

For those who may be trying to find the locations in my photos above: it's the northwest corner of the intersection of 2nd St. and Grand Ave. in Los Angeles. Yes, all three shots are of the same box, just from three different angles.

Eh, I'm sure you didn't fall for my Jedi mind tricks. (Aah! So close to making it through this post without a groan-inducing Star Wars reference!)

~

Here's a rather predictable skit from the Carson Daly show involving the R2D2 boxes.

Harry Potter, missing out, and fitting in

Over the weekend the final Harry Potter movie set box office records, and it made me realize more than at any point over the past decade that a tremendous pop cultural phenomenon completely passed me by.

And I'm okay with that.

I have no doubt that the books and movies are entertaining works. I know many people personally who were adults when the books first came out and loved them, but for whatever reason I never felt inspired to even get on board. I did see the first movie back when it first came out (in the theater) with someone who was a fan of the novel, and it was fine, but nothing struck that chord in me like clearly happened with many, many others worldwide.

A couple weeks ago, in a galaxy far, far away: More rambling

As I did three years ago in the middle of the first week of December, it's time for a meandering and completely unnecessary post touching on George Lucas' most popular works that succeeds in being not being geeky enough for the geeks and dull for everyone else. Ah, tradition.

~

A couple weeks ago, while flipping through channels—by which I mean: scrolling through the guide for the satellite-based TV system; there's no more simply going from one channel to the next without knowing what I'm going to find when I get there, but I retain that "flipping" expression as a pleasant anachronism—I came across a program on the History International channel called Star Wars: The Legacy Revealed, wherein scholars discussed the philosophical themes of the Star Wars saga. Footage of experts on areas such as mythology was interspersed with actual scenes from the movies (so clearly it was sanctioned by Lucasfilm). Why wouldn't it be? What filmmaker would not want his work analyzed in such a context, to be compared to classic works going back thousands of years? One could almost feel George Lucas plugging in the elements while reading Joseph Campbell to create the structure for his mythos, so nothing would be more apropos.

It's not that there is no foundation for such analysis of the story of how Anakin Skywalker turned to evil; certainly that has some similarities to the story of Lucifer's fall from grace, and his desire for power making him be willing to adopt the Dark Side is not unlike a Faustian deal (both points made by those interviewed for the program). The transformation of the Republic in to an oppressive empire seems obviously based on the rise of the Nazis in Germany (another point made in the program). Heck, it's a History Channel show, so there's almost an implicit requirement that either Hitler or the Civil War be mentioned.

One might question whether Lucas' work warrants this level of scholarship is not worth disputing; the mythological pieces are definitely there to be found, and I suspect intentionally so. Star Wars is contemporary mythology in its structure.

However, even in the bit I watched (and I recall seeing it previously, as originally it aired a couple years ago) I found myself having the following reaction during the portions where the scholarly talking heads were discussing Anakin in the same breath as classic works like Paradise Lost and then a scene from the film where Hayden Christensen acts with the skill level of a junior high production: If only the execution of the overall saga had lived up to that mythic structure.

It's not that the themes aren't there to be mined, and in A New Hope (1977) and The Empire Strikes Back (1980) the movies turned out pretty well. However, the story in those was all about Darth Vader, galactic badass, not whiny Anakin Skywalker; there was no melodramatic overacting to be done from behind the mask.

On the subject of Anakin being whiny, this was addressed by perhaps the best quote in the entire special. Clerks director Kevin Smith was interviewed and noted that there was no incongruity between how Anakin was and how Darth Vader was; the petulant youth is precisely who would grow up to be the merciless tyrant, he posited, and although it's complete pop psychology I must admit I think it trenchantly accurate. (Would Hitler have been so inspired to seek power had his ego been assuaged by his attempts at being an artist?)

For those who were paying attention, you'll notice I only mentioned two of the six films as having been done well—and probably not coincidentally they were the first two made. That's not suggesting that the other four were crap by any means, or that New Hope and Empire were without their flaws. However, I'm not here to go off on the tangent of specifics about how well or poorly the others were done; that's not the point. My lingering perception was merely that only the first two made struck me as living up to the quality level of storytelling that is associated with the works to which the saga was being compared in this special.

But here's the thing: Even though I am critical of 2/3 of the films in the overall saga (most specifically the ones that are identified as Episodes I – III), I'll still stop and watch at least part of them if I come across them on TV. They provide a modicum of entertainment (which may be based more on the potential that the two good ones established for the saga than on their content), even knowing precisely how the story turns out.

And not only will I stop and watch those movies but I'll stop and watch a special that touches on the philosophical themes in the movies… even though I've seen that before.

So clearly Lucas did something right, and maybe the credit balance built up by 1981 was enough to coast along from then on out. Or maybe the focus changed from storytelling to special effects and sound mixing. The look of the CGI and the THX sound in Episodes I – III are pretty phenomenal, even if the performances from the live actors leaves something to be desired. Maybe that's good enough.

Of course, I can't help but wonder that if the series had started with Episode I, and been the same story-wise, whether there would some 30 years later be made a special on the History Channel about it.

I am still not calling this "Artoo goes postal" (a follow-up)

Ray left a comment in response to my R2-D2 mailbox photo post, speculating that the promotion would result in the U.S. Postal Service raising the cost of postage to cover what they undoubtedly spent in licensing fees to Lucasfilm. He referenced an article about how their sponsorship of the U.S. Tour de France team years ago proved to be more of a bust than a boom as evidence of how this likely would result in an increase.

I admit I didn't put that much thought into it. I saw a mailbox near the office, walked over on a break and snapped a few pics, and eventually got around to putting some up on the site here. I enjoyed the Star Wars films (the ones from 1977 - 1983 mostly), and found the decorated mailboxes amusing. That was as far as I'd thought it through.

I suppose my posting the shots with links to the promotional site is tacitly supporting the promotion, and therefore applauding the ploy by the Postal Service that will make it more expensive to mail letters. I didn't mean to suggest I thought that was good.

I pay most of my bills online, and typically I mail only a single envelope per month. When I buy a sheet of stamps it can last me until the price of postage goes up again. The effect of a price increase doesn't affect me that deeply, because my routine doesn't revolve around putting pieces of mail in boxes (whether they look like characters from Star Wars or not). However, I can certainly understand how such an increase in postage costs could make a big difference to someone who uses the mail system a lot.

Granted, it's probably because more and more people are going over to the side I'm on--mailing less and less (and therefore purchasing less postage)--that makes the Postal Service try these schemes like a cross-promotional tie-in with the anniversary of one of the strongest pop culture touchstones of this generation; they're grasping at anything that might get people to buy more stamps.

So I'm not sure whether I'm the problem because I contributed to promoting the scheme (and without getting a cut from anyone who benefits from it) or because I don't buy more stamps (thereby contributing to the circumstances leading to the scheme). And further, if I purchase a sheet of the Star Wars stamps promoted by the R2-D2 mailboxes, am I doing my part to help put the USPS back on track (and delay the need for future price increases for at least longer than would otherwise prove necessary) or am I only encouraging such ploys (and making them think they should explore more such promotions that they can use to justify raising postage rates again)?

I guess I can only conclude that Sith lords have infiltrated the highest levels of the USPS, and that by spotlighting in that post their attempts to appeal to a fond memory from childhood I fell prey to the allure of the Dark Side.

And I didn't even get a cool "Darth" name.

Giving in to the Dark Side (you know you would)

The more I think about the mythology of Star Wars the most unrealistic aspect of The Force is that any Jedi could keep from turning to the Dark Side. Look at what Vader does in Episode IV (better known as Star Wars, the first movie from 1977, subtitled "A New Hope") when an Imperial officer dismisses the importance of The Force: He uses telekinesis to lift and choke the man (and clearly could have killed the officer) with nothing more than a gesture.

If most of us had that power in our daily lives, how would everyone we encountered who pissed us off not find themselves hoisted by invisible hands and struggling for breath?

Obviously the tale told in Episodes I through III (as Anakin Skywalker transforms into Darth Vader) show the appeal of the Dark Side to underscore how impressive the Jedi are to stay on the good side of The Force, but how can we empathize with these better-than-thou types?

Some utterly useless thoughts on the movie Avatar

As noted in the previous post, after it had been out for months we finally went to see the 3-D extravaganza that is Avatar. I'd been... disinclined toward seeing it... but that really stemmed from thinking what I saw in the trailers looked like watching a three-hour video game combined with fatigue from the hype surrounding the movie. The critique was mostly of the media and awards show voters who had heaped praise on it, not of the movie; I couldn't offer anything about that until I actually viewed it, of course.

We spent the $16.50 per ticket for a matinee showing on an IMAX screen, which seemed the best viewing experience. (With tickets at that price it isn't difficult to rake in high box office numbers, but I digress.) For the first showing of the day the theater was not even half full with less than 20 minutes until the start time, but when the lights went down it was not jam-packed but pretty close to capacity. (We overheard a woman near us remarking to her companion that it was her third time seeing it, so as "virgins" we may have been in the minority.)

Having sat through all 2 hours and 40 minutes of it, what was my opinion of it?

It's a good movie. On screen the animation looked much more realistic than the video game appearance it had on when seeing the trailer on a TV screen. It was a visually interesting science fiction film with a fairly conventional David-versus-Goliath story. None of the performances were anything to write home about, but obviously it wasn't about trying to really get us to care about the characters that deeply but to dazzle us with the spectacular world they were inhabiting.

I found myself thinking as I watched it—while I was still in the middle of watching it—that it didn't need the 3-D; the story, while not exactly groundbreaking, was entertaining enough on its own; the technological aspects of the visual presentation, which involved wearing special glasses for the entirety of the movie, seemed to suggest that Cameron had abandoned the notion that a good story doesn't need all the bells and whistles, and he'd stick with dazzling the audience rather than getting them to be emotionally invested in the narrative and the characters.

In short: He followed the same path that George Lucas blazed when he made the three Star Wars prequels. (I'd even concede that Avatar has a better plot than those three films—although that's not necessarily an impressive feat.)

I'm not suggesting that such a path is not lucrative; obviously it rakes in big bucks at the box office. People show up for the spectacle, which they've been doing since before Barnum and Bailey. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with giving people that spectacle. The performance-capture technology that he apparently developed in order to make the film certainly is worthy of every technical award that's out there to be won.

I know that people are going to see the movie multiple times, and if they enjoy it that much then by all means they should. Personally, I couldn't sit through it again (at least not in 3-D; I had a slight headache after leaving the theater).

I found the acting performances to be uninspired (something that's also true of all the Star Wars films), but that was never going to be the bread-and-butter of a sci-fi film. The story struck me as derivative of Cameron's own Aliens franchise, with the evil corporation obsessed only with making their profit margins. (The ships and weapons actively reminded me of those from the Aliens series as I was watching the movie.) Arguably this was akin to Alien 3, with Riley now as a scientist, and where the aliens were cute and humanoid rather than monstrous.

I'm not suggesting that Cameron cannot rip off himself (that's certainly his due), or that there's not room for a kinder, gentler aliens-versus-corporation movie.

In short: Avatar is absolutely a worthwhile movie. It is not, in my humble opinion, worthy of the laurel of the motion picture industry's highest honor. It's a good movie, sure, but it's not the best one.

These aren't the droids we're looking for

The other day I posted a link to my friend Jim's diatribe against the first three (which were actually the second three) Star Wars films. He dissects the myriad plot flaws and poor filmmaking decisions that abounded in Episodes I – III. His list numbered 40 items by its end—and he wasn't just nitpicking little things—and he probably could have gone on longer (without getting nitpicky).

The impetus for his rant stemmed from his love of the New Hope – Jedi trilogy. The same love that enough people around the world shared to turn the franchise into a multi-million dollar enterprise, and essentially into a new mythology for our time. And then a couple decades later omnipotent George Lucas takes advantage of technological advances to produce prequels that ultimately disappointed the fans.

And not merely because the expectations were raised to levels beyond belief by the aforementioned worship of the fans.

Jim obviously watched them much closer and more times than I did, and he explicates the flaws much better than I'd ever have time (or inclination) to do. Like him, I don't purport to keep up with what others have said on the message boards.

I'll merely mention a thought I had, more than once, back when Episodes I – III were released: It would have been better had the prequels never been made.

The kid in me who saw the films in the theater back in the '70s and '80s, multiple times, hates to think that, but the kid in me is ultimately who makes me think that.

Not only did Episodes I – III subject us to Jar Jar Binks and the atrocious acting (even by Star Wars standards) of young Anakin, but it ultimately undermined the ominous cachet of Darth Vader (and the stormtroopers and Boba Fett). How can we be intimidated now when we see the ominous caped figure in A New Hope when we've seen what a whiny little kid he was? The legend of Vader (as built by Obi Wan when telling Luke) was far more interesting than seeing how it actually came to be.


The only aspect of Episodes I – III that was moderately satisfactory proved to be seeing Yoda kick ass with the light saber in II. That was more or less obligatory. But that alone doesn't justify the prequels. Not by a long shot.

Making Episodes VII – IX would have been better, inasmuch as at least we wouldn't have grappled with why the technology was better (as regards what we saw the characters have on screen, not merely the clarity with which it could be made to appear on screen)—it's in the future of where Jedi left off, so of course it advanced.

They would have been disappointing—that's a given, but at least they wouldn't just be fulfilling obligation, and might have actually had a story with some sense of wonder.

Like we had decades ago.

Oh, and it would be easier to refer to "the first three" as the first three.

I will say this about George Lucas deigning to make a bunch more money by producing the prequel trilogy: We could stop speculating about how cool they might be and start the endless analysis of bad they proved to be. I suppose that's something.

Take him out OF the movies

Over the weekend I saw a movie on cable: New York, I Love You (it was a case where the wife started watching and I was there with her). It's a series of vignettes about fictional New Yorkers (each written, directed, and shot by different crews); some intertwine slightly but overall there just small scenes strung together. I'm not sure how impressed I would have been with that regardless of the cast, but right out of the gate it opens with a story that features Andy Garcia, Rachel Bilson, and… Hayden Christensen (a.k.a., He Who Ruins Any Movie He's In Because He's So Abysmal). The specifics of the scene are unimportant for this (although the vast difference in levels of talent when he acts opposite Garcia is flabbergasting).

Suffice it to say, I could not recommend the movie.

Hiro

The towers in downtown Los Angeles that used to be the Arco Plaza back when the Atlantic-Richfield Company was the name on the building are now the City National Plaza.

Regardless of the name, the erstwhile Arco Plaza is what was used by the producers of Heroes as the location for "Kirby Plaza" (a fictional New York place where the climax of the first season transpires). There's a distinct large sculpture in the middle of the open area between the towers (called "Double Staircase") that immediately identifies the actual location as downtown L.A. rather than N.Y.C. to anyone familiar with it. (The California state flag is kind of a giveaway in the shot below.)


In seven and a half years of walking past it, I had never taken any pictures of it. Obviously I've photographed a number of downtown locales over the years, but not there. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it seemed too obvious.

(While I do not consider myself to be in any way groundbreaking in my photography, nor am I above shooting sites that have been done by others before (as this clearly has), but what inspires me is finding some different angle (either literally or figuratively).)

Back in June, just after the first season of Heroes concluded, on my walk back from lunch my path took me right next to the art piece, and the mid-afternoon sun reflected off the north tower on to the piece at an angle opposite that of the actual sun. And as we've seen in the past, that sort of thing intrigues me, so I snapped a few pics. They turned out semi-okay. (Two of which are included here. "Semi-okay.")


As I continued back to the office it occurred to me that the shots could be "marketed" as being the actual site where Hiro ran his katana through Sylar (not that the "running through" was actual, of course) to fans of the program. However, that would tacitly be could be construed as trying to pass myself off as a geek, and that I dare not do.

(And of course, the inspiration sat idle for months, until the fall season debuted. Very un-geek-like.)

~

It's not that I consider "geek" to be a shameful designation. Quite the contrary: I would not wish to denigrate the term by even implicitly identifying myself as such. While I have certain traits that are associated with geeks (working with computers, having read comic books, watching a show like Heroes, for instance), I do not consider the level of voluntary involvement with these things to be sufficient to qualify for geek-ness (geekitude? geekosity?). I am too much of a dilettante in these areas to warrant such a designation; it would not be fair to the true geeks.

I am completely sincere when I seek to protect the integrity of the term "geek" by not assigning it to myself. Frankly, were I a geek I would undoubtedly make a lot more in my field of employment than I do; I'd actually like computers rather than merely put up with them for my job. I would do infinitely better at Trivial Pursuit. I would not find the message boards on the Battlestar Galactica website to be confusing. I would fit in.

It's not that I completely fail to fit in, on some levels; I can identify that the music the cantina band plays changed from the original 1977 release of Star Wars to the 1997 re-release, but I can't tell you what the names of the band members were. Ultimately, however, it comes down to this: True geeks would see through me if I purported myself as one of them.

It's not that membership was sought back when the "club" started but those who consider themselves part of it do not allow just anyone in the circle. There is no faking it; either you have the tendencies and knowledge and desires to be a geek or you don't.

And I don't. (I just play one on TV.)

These aren't the droids you're looking for

Today fabulous my wife surprised me. All week she'd been talking about it, making sure I didn't have to work this weekend so we could do the surprise. When we left the house this morning I honestly didn't even know where we were going. (I won't go into the story she told or the things that I went through to keep up the ruse to keep me from guessing.)

And where did we end up? At the Discovery Science Center in Santa Ana to see the exhibit of costumes, props, and models from the Star Wars movies. (Yep, we're geeky enough to do that, but not so geeky that we made it to the exhibit any time since November when it opened.)

Although I only had my cell phone I still took a bunch of photos, including some artistic attempts at:

Tight shot of stormtrooper costume.

Reason #5 to avoid Spike TV, which shows the Star Wars franchise almost on a loop

Watching the Endor battle scenes of Return of the Jedi, where the stormtroopers are trumped by the ewoks, still tests my ability to suspend disbelief even after all these years.

Really, one should just skip every forest sequence and stick to the space dogfights (including the part where Admiral Akbar says "It's a trap!")—unless, of course, one has made a drinking game out of watching the stormtroopers (replete with their armor and blasters) flail each time the little costumed actors put them down with nothing but rocks and sticks.

Friends don't let friends Endor and drive.

Get Jar-Jar on speed dial

This isn't new, but my friend Jim's list of grievances with the Star Wars prequels is amusing and trenchant. Enjoy.

another modest proposal

[email rant composed 20 August 2001]

Hello URODIR,

This evening I went down to my car--which, of course, sits idly in a parking lot across the street from my apartment all day while I'm at work (since I take the train)--only to discover that someone had ripped the antenna off my car. Not broken it off: ripped the entire long thin cylinder out. Here's the thing: some production company was filming outside my building all day (filming what I don't know); anybody who's ever seen it going on knows where there's filming, there's a lot of cops standing around.

I think there's only one logical reaction to this violation of my vehicle: All hope for humanity is lost, and the sooner we get the Chinese pissed off enough to launch their nuclear arsenal at us, the sooner the scourge known as mankind will be wiped from the face of the earth (maybe we should support the new "Star Wars" defense system). Or maybe science will simply unleash some airborne virus that will eliminate us (while, with any luck, leaving the rest of the animal kingdom untouched). I'm not that concerned with the specifics: our species has to go.

I realize there's some decent people out there who'll be dragged down with the scum, but, well, as long as there's some of us still around, there's someone left to senselessly do very minor damage to the cars of strangers, and I care too much about my fellow man to allow another to experience the seconds of anguish that I did when I found nothing where my antenna used to be.

I don't believe in throwing out the baby with the bathwater; I say we obliterate the bathtub altogether, before the baby even gets wet.

So then I got in my car and could still pick up all the stations I have as presets. And there were idiots sitting in the fast lane barely going the speed limit. Just as I was starting to reconsider the end of mankind, this renewed my enthusiasm for the project. Imagine how wonderful the freeways will be with nobody on them.

But yes, I had a good weekend. Thanks for asking.

doug
Humanitarian of the Millennium


p.s. "Unfortunate Recipients Of Doug's Inane Rambling" (like you hadn't already figured that out on your own)

[Note 26 March 2004: Still have not replaced the antenna.]

Love wars

During last night's first airing of The Daily Show there was a commercial break that featured back-to-back ads for dating websites eHarmony and match.com (with no intervening spots).

I started to wonder:  As a married person am I supposed to be watching?  Are the advertisers trying to tell me something about into which demographic I should now fall?

But then the next commercial (for a car rental agency) had loud-mouthed former tennis star John McEnroe espousing both his famous utterance and my feelings on the prior two ads:  "You cannot be serious!"

~

This is why one should DVR everything and fast-forward through commercials.