Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan

A short review of “War for the Planet of the Apes” (2017)

Like the two films preceding it, “War for the Planet of the Apes” (2017) is an intelligent, well rounded science fiction thriller.  The newest “Apes” series has been leagues ahead of the campy late-1960’s original films, and of course Tim Burton’s bizarre 2001 remake.

There is more going on here than a simple “apes vs. humans” tale.  Nor does it engage in simplistic moralizing, in which the innocent animals must escape from their human oppressors.  There’s a hell of a lot of moral complexity — something noted by the many positive reviews for the film.  One of the things that I liked the most was a compelling new surprise plot element, even though it approaches deus ex machina territory.  I won’t spoil it here, but it’s bleak, it’s frightening, and it makes you think.  Given the new information one character explains to another … it’s hard to say who is the bad guy, isn’t it?  How this plot element plays out is damned effective too.

This movie also superbly renders non-human characters — both in terms of its smart script and its special effects (a combination of both CGI and human actors).  I was greatly impressed at the detailed and lifelike facial expressions.

The action sequences were well executed, too, and the film had an epic feel.  (Although this would be a decent conclusion to a trilogy, filmmakers Matt Reeves and Martin Bomback have gone on record stating they wouldn’t be averse to future sequels.)

Still, I must confess that my attention sometimes wandered.  I think the pacing was a bit off.  It also didn’t help much that the conclusion of the final action set piece was spoiled by one of the film’s trailers.  (What the hell were they thinking?  Who makes these decisions?  Was there any backlash from fans who didn’t want advance knowledge of the film’s ending?)

Although this was an exceptionally well developed film, I just can’t give an unusually high rating to a movie that didn’t always hold my interest.  I believe, therefore, that I’d rate this an 8 out of 10.

 

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I found these near a stream.

They’re some kind of wetlands vegetation, obviously.  They remind me a little of the “cat tails” that grew in a marshy section of the woods near my childhood home.  (Bizarrely enough, that was in central Long Island, where you kinda don’t expect to find wetlands.)

The stream below these stalked sentinels was teeming with quick minnows today, along with metallic blue dragonflies above them.  I wanted to explore it pretty badly, but the vegetation is so thick that it’s waist-high.  I was issued some pretty dire warnings upon my arrival in Virginia about poisonous snakes, especially near the water, and I take those warnings pretty seriously.

 

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Homeland Insecurity.

I was never anything resembling Eagle Scout material.  But I was a Cub Scout since I was old enough, and I was a Boy Scout for a year.

I never heard an adult connected with the organization even mention politics once.

I just can’t believe the extent to which Trump seems to constantly betray his own insecurities. Everything he says seems intended to show us that he is somehow better than Obama or Hillary. He’s like a child who repeatedly proclaims that he is smarter or tougher than the next kid. If Trump has so much confidence in his superiority, then why should he feel the need to endlessly remind the rest of us?

They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but maybe needful competition is even more sincere.

 

 

 

A short review of the Season 4 premiere of “The Strain”

[THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR PAST SEASONS OF “THE STRAIN.”]  I love “The Strain.”  It’s weird, it’s wacky, it’s usually creepy, and the screenwriters seem to want to throw in everything but the kitchen sink in order to please horror fans.  It’s also the most ambitious horror show on television — it endeavors to depict nothing short of an entire vampire apocalypse, from its inception back in Season 1 to what appears to be a complete victory by the monsters at the start of its fourth (and apparently final) season.  Only the outstanding “Fear the Walking Dead” has attempted something like that.  And although “Fear” is the better show, it can’t match “The Strain’s” epic storytelling goals and its level of detail.

The writers’ energetic efforts almost always pay off.  Part of “The Strain’s” appeal is that you never know how far they’ll go.  And they do push the envelope so creatively that they sometimes hit upon ideas and story points that are grotesque and darkly creative.  I’m still enjoying this show even after I predicted back in Season 1 that the plot-driving creatures themselves would grow boring after our repeated exposure to them.  (I’m happy to be proven wrong.)

Regrettably, the Season 4 premiere suggests that the writers are now reaching too far, too fast.  It continued the show’s pattern of brave creative choices, but it was sloppy.  There were enormous changes in story and setting with insufficient exposition.  We jump nine months forward from the close of last season, when a nuclear explosion devastates New York, and our heroes are scattered.  We’re offered little information about how our protagonists arrived at their respective new junctures, and that is forgivable.  (It’s a convention of serialized storytelling like this that things can be explained in subsequent episodes.)  But the enormous changes in the overall milieu left me a little confused.

Following the nuclear conquest of New York last season, why would Philadelphia and other cities also be ruled by the vampires?  I understand that the nuclear winter is to blame for this, because the bad guys can move about by day.  But would a single bomb cause a sufficient nuclear winter to affect the entire Eastern Seaboard?  (Yes, I am aware that I am illustrating my ignorance of this subject.)

Or … is it the entire continent that’s affected, or the entire northern hemisphere?  Have other cities been bombed or not?  Why are the vampires seeking out more nuclear devices?  (We are given confusing information about these things through new story elements and dialogue.)  Furthermore, why is Vasiliy Fet (the likable Kevin Durand) trying get his hands on a nuke on behalf of the human resistance?  Is he planning on nuking an entire city, with both vampires and their human slaves?  If he neutralizes “The Master” in the remains of New York City, will it be worth it?

These are important plot and story elements that left me scratching my head.  What’s more, the season opener was further marred by some pretty spotty scripting and direction.  (The action sequence at the end was poorly done.)

The episode was still fun enough.  I’d rate it a 7 out of 10.  I’m just surprised that an episode that seems so hastily developed served as the season’s opener.

 

GET WHITEY.

Am I nuts if I think Sansa Stark’s outfit on the last episode of “Game of Thrones” looks vaguely reminiscent of the Night King’s armor?

Somebody please tell me this is not foreshadowing her death and reanimation as a wight, or some variation of a White Walker …

What do we call that resurrection process, anyway?  Wighted?  Wightened?  Wightwashed?

 

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A few quick words on the “Game of Thrones” Season 7 premiere.

The premiere of Season 7 of “Game of Thrones” was damned good … enough for me to give it a 9 out of 10.  (You know you’re enjoying a TV show when you are riveted to the screen.)

The dialogue and character development for this show is always first-rate, and the acting often is.  Last night was no exception — the exchange between Littlefinger (Aidan Gillen) and Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner), for example, was priceless.

The glimpse of The Night King’s wight army, however brief, should please any horror fan.  I watch a lot of horror movies, and I’m a tough fan to please.  Yet I am still surprised at how this fantasy show continues to succeed in scaring me.  It’s impressive.  If the leaked script for Season 7 is accurate, then the bad guys in the final episode ought to be damned frightening.

I will reiterate a very minor longstanding quibble that I have had with “Game of Thrones” as someone who has not read the books.  This story seems to attach tremendous dramatic emphasis to the movement and arrival of groups of people.  I do understand the need for this, and its appeal — the logistics are part of George R.R. Martin’s world-building, and they bring detail and a sense of realism.  There are times, however, when I feel like Daenerys’ defining character trait is that she … goes places.  (Look!  Now her army is here!)

I won’t say much more for fear of spoilers — this is a show where even mentioning a character’s name can suggest a chapter in his or her character arc.  (I will say that I loved the opening segment, even if I was understandably puzzled at first.)

This is great TV.

 

“Roanoke Summer Midnight,” by Eric Robert Nolan

“Roanoke Summer Midnight”

Its midnight moon is newly minted coin —
a white-hot silver obol
forged in burning phosphorus.
The crisping clouds around it blacken.

Its silhouetted mountains
are great blue gods at slumber
the faded-haze azure horizon’s
giants in the dim.

Those slopes have known a billion bones of hares
that raced upon them other midnights, then,
pausing, one by one,
and drawing up their downy legs at last to final sleep.

Where the Shenandoahs’ driving
beryl falls to black,
ultramarine to onyx,
lay legions of hares — generations resting.
There are the hills where ivory
rabbits sleep among gods.

Ahead and under moonlight
the curving rural road obscures its end.
At right, an intersecting well-lit modern block
confuses the curling topography.
The fresh and symmetrical asphalt’s angle
mars the winding thoroughfare with order —
a ninety-degree anachronism.

That new and perfect subdivision
affronts the corner’s antebellum chimney,
broken down to stones and overrun in lavender
— its lilac colors driven plum by sunset.
That last century’s smokestack
was itself effrontery once
to the formless places where natives stayed,
their only edifice the stars,
their only currency the blinding coin of moon.

Eyeing, then, the summits’ crowning cobalt
driving down in royal blue to coal,
I hope to one day take my rest
there, in the darkening indigo,
alongside giants,
among white rabbits in myriad easy stillness,

to pause myself at last and sleep beneath
what meadows stretch in cerulean dark,
where hares will race like moon-kissed silver,
or comets of darting pearl.

(c) Eric Robert Nolan 2017

 

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Photo credit: By Jessie Eastland (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Nolan’s Relatively Mellow Summer 2017 Playlist — featuring Toxic Sundown Avenger!!

Take this for whatever it’s worth to you — it’s my relatively chill summer playlist.  A good college buddy of mine consistently posts a “Friday Dance Party” playlist on Facebook every week.  (The Dude is on a mission to make the whole world dance.)  This, I prefer to think, is a more laid back seasonal complement.

Hey, you want to hear something really sad?  I really like Airborne Toxic Event a hell of a lot, but, when I tried to Google them earlier tonight, I typed in “Toxic Sundown Avenger.”   That is what happens when an old man tries to get into the young people’s music.

*I’m* the one who’s “sundowning.”

 

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[Explicit lyric warning for Daniela Andrade and Kawehi.]

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Neill Blomkamp’s free new sci-fi short films are goddam nightmare-inducing.

Writer-director Neill Blomkamp (who brought us 2009’s “District 9” and who wanted to bring us a fifth “Alien” installment) is currently releasing a series of sci-fi short films via his “Oats Studios” channel on Youtube.  There have been four released so far, with a fifth, “ZYGOTE,” scheduled for release today.

The two to which I’ve linked below, “Firebase” and “Rakka,” are fantastic.  They’re both military science fiction, they’ve both got lots of gore and great special effects, and they both show Blomkamp’s trademark predilection for body horror.

They’re both incredibly dark stories, too.  “Firebase” is disturbing; “Rakka” is downright horrifying.  (The Eiffel Tower scene … yeesh.)  It might make you smile, though, to see none other than Sigourney Weaver fighting alien invaders.

If “Firebase” doesn’t make much sense to you, try not to let it hamper your enjoyment of it.  (The short’s reveal shows us that many of these disparate story elements actually aren’t supposed to make much logical sense, considering their cause.)  And you should know ahead of time that both of these short films should serve as prologues for sequels or longer tales.  (Maybe Blomkamp is planning their denouements in subsequent shorts?)

I was so befuddled by “Firebase” at first that I wound up turning it off and then returning to it later.  I still think that its writing could be cleaned up a bit.  It’s definitely out there, and strays from science fiction into fantasy and … maybe even theology.  It was “Firebase,” however, that stayed with me and really got under my skin — much more than the more straightforward invasion horror story, “Rakka.”

 

 

Evolution stinks sometimes.

Soooooo, I finally gained a true appreciation earlier tonight of how bad a skunk could smell.  I’ve smelled them before … I’ve been in Virginia for a while now, and I actually spotted my first skunk in upstate New York when I was a kid.  (They’re not pretty.)  But this is the first time I’ve encountered a full dose from an animal that was evidently nearby.

Dear Lord.

This was the olfactory equivalent of Dante Alighieri’s worst visions of hell.  The odor was at once strangely metallic, horribly organic and chemically toxic.   If one of Michael Bay’s “Transformers” were possessed by the demon from William Peter Blatty’s “The Exorcist,” and it wielded flatulence to punish the damned, this would be it.  If the three Kryptonian villains from 1980’s “Superman II” had been poisoned by chili laced with spoiled pork and Ex-Lax, this would be it.

Skunks might now top my list of hated animals, were it not for my enduring abhorrence of alligators.

Earwigs are moving up on that list, too — at least since I spotted one at 7:15 tonight in my kitchen.  Earwigs look like God tried to make a proper beetle while on acid.