I find it amusing when people say they aren’t afraid of anything. I have to wonder if they’d maintain that notion if they were alone in a diving suit down in the Marianas Trench. Most people I know would be unnerved by the very notion of being entirely alone with nothing but angler fish for company in total darkness. The point is, I’m of the opinion that everybody is afraid of something.
Those fears could come from something outside of our experiences. One of the reasons science fiction is an effective setting for horror is that the depths of space can contain all sorts of nasty and overwhelming experiences for unwary travelers, and that’s before the twisted creativity of humanity gets involved. It’s the notion of being trapped in a floating metal box with something that wants you dead that drives many a ghost story in space.
But other fears exist that have nothing to do with carnivorous alien beings or horrorterrors from deep beneath the sea. Our own anxieties can do a number on our confidence, motivation and self-esteem. We can and often do fear failure or pain or death, be it ours or that of someone we love. The unknown is terrifying to us, and so it is with the characters we create.
Fear can cripple a character or drive them to extremes. An otherwise heroic or kind person, faced with something that terrifies them, may find themselves unable to act or behaving in uncharacteristic ways to deal with what’s in front of them. It’s for these reasons that invincible heroes can be boring. What’s there to be afraid of if nothing can really hurt you? The possibility of failure needs to be palpable, possible and immediate to be effective. To that end, you should know what your characters fear the most.
Take a moment to think of a favorite book or movie or video game. What do the characters fear? Heroes and villains alike have doubts and unacknowledged terrors, things they will do anything to avoid dealing with. And when unknown fears do arise, how do they handle it? Who remains calm, and who loses it? It bears thinking about, as seeing characters come face to face with their fears and struggling to overcome them is crucial in making your story a compelling and memorable one.
There was a time when superheroes subscribed to a certain template. If the handsome face of the hero’s alter-ego didn’t emerge from the phone booth in brightly-colored tights and a complimentary cape, he simply wouldn’t be welcome at the Superfriends clubhouse. As time went on, it was realized that this sort of pigeon-holing was kinda stupid. Many heroes eschew the capes for reasons of safety as well as fashion, and some also wear clothing more practical than tights. I can only think of one, however, who even goes so far as to completely go without the handsome face, or any flesh on the skull whatsoever. That’d be Marvel’s Ghost Rider, and like so many comic books, his story got made into a major motion picture.
The Ghost Rider is, for all intents and purposes, an agent of Satan on Earth. Mephisopheles has limited powers over mortals, you see, and sometimes gets impatient to collect the souls he’s owed among the degenerate human populace. So every generation or so he offers someone a deal for their heart’s desire in exchange for servitude on earth as well as torment in the afterlife. The latest sucker to fall for this one-sided contract is Johnny Blaze, the younger half of a carnival stunt-riding double act who signs up to save his father from the cancer that’s killing him. Naturally Old Scratch exploits a loophole and Johnny spends the next decade or so trying to kill himself in stunt shows only to make himself an obscene amount of cash. It’s the Devil’s son and a few fallen angel cronies going on a rampage that prompts Mephisto to call in his debt, transforming Johnny into the Ghost Rider to track down the rogues and secure a contract worth a thousand evil souls.
Ghost Rider joined the Marvel pantheon in the 70s when the bombastic writing was cribbing entire pages of notes from Stan Lee, and the art looked like it’d ridden into your living room off of your Iron Maiden poster though a pallet of surprisingly bright colors. However, he really came into his own around the 90s when a lot of comic book writers and artists thought it was really edgy and original to have their super heroes emerge from Hell, like Spawn or Lady Death. He’d always worn a black leather biker jacket, natch, but the 90s are where the spikes and chains and so-called edginess comes from. The movie takes big art cues from this awkward period in comic-book history and it doesn’t quite work as well as the director might have intended. There are a couple cool bits with the Devil himself but a lot of that is probably due to Peter Fonda’s undeniable screen presence instead of the somewhat lackluster CGI on display.
“Nice bike…”
Another aspect of the movie that doesn’t always fire on all cylinders is the main plot. Johnny’s story and his awareness of and ability to control his curse are more than often pushed aside for the villains’ pursuit of the demonic MacGuffin. It’s a storyline that feels a lot like a rehash of the plot of the original Blade. But unlike that post-Matrix vampire flick, the ‘main’ villain doesn’t have a sliver of the Devil’s charisma or presence. Your mileage may vary but it seems to me that trying to out-ham Nicholas Cage never ends well. And you know how in Blade or The Matrix there was an actual credible threat to the protagonists? Not the case here. You’d think that the Nephilim, the antediluvian giants supposedly wiped out in the flood chronicled in Genesis, would be more than mere cannon fodder disposed of with the ease of flicking ants off of your desk. Add a tepid, predictable and poorly placed plot, and you have a film that sucks all the fun out of the room whenever it drags us away from character beats or interesting interplay.
If the film were more about those moments, though, it might have worked more positively. I’ve spoken at length about Nicholas Cage in the past, and it’s clear that he’s enjoying playing Johnny Blaze. He’s cool as can be when jumping over a dozen big rigs on a motorbike and wonderfully eccentric with his jelly-bean eating and love of monkey-based television, but when he encounters the girl of his dreams he turns into a barely functional fanboy. For her part, Eva Mendes plays off of his nervous earnestness with a sincerity of her own, trying to play it cool but being more emotional than she’d like to admit. The very best moments, though, happen between Cage and the always enjoyable Sam Elliot, a grizzled stranger tending graves known only as the Caretaker who knows more about the Ghost Rider than he lets on at first. The scenes between him and Cage are pretty damn compelling, and if it had been him acting as more of a night-to-night mentor showing Blaze how to hone his curse and use it for good rather than letting it rule his life, I feel it would have gone over a lot better with audiences.
He does this pointing thing a LOT.
The biggest problem I have with Ghost Rider is this. Not that the acting is bad or the plot is weak or the effects a bit cheesy in places. It’s that so much more could have been done with this character and his relationships, with the girl and the old man. The most egregious example of this is when the Caretaker whistles for his horse, reveals his true nature and rides with Blaze to the city of the damned for the final showdown, only to turn around and let Johnny wade in there alone. It was a literal out-loud “What the FUCK?” moment that had me tearing my hair out in sheer frustration. There’s so much going on with Sam Elliot’s character and a good deal of earnest chemistry between the two Riders (and even some between Cage and the underrated Mendes) but it all goes to waste. It’s every bit as disappointing as it is infuriating.
For a flick named after the devils bounty hunter on a badass demonic chopper, Ghost Rider seems to go nowhere. At times it will evoke movies like Tim Burton’s Batman or body horror chronicles like The Wolfman but it never quite rises above the level of mediocre. Every positive thing I could say about it, such as some of the dialog and a few choice scenes like the bit where he drives straight up the side of a building, is balanced by something inexplicable or downright awful, like the total lack of tension, Ghost Rider lassoing a helicopter for no reason, and pretty much everything involving Blackheart. If you’re watching a movie and wishing the action scene would just end already so the hero can get back to talking to the weird old guy in the graveyard, something’s gone wrong somewhere. It never drops to the level of unwatchable, but I cannot in good conscious recommend Ghost Rider, mostly because it teases us with glimpses of what could have been before shoving more generic supernatural action in our faces. It’s like going to a nice restaurant and being offered a few samples of fabulous appetizers only to have the waiter dump a bowl of generic salsa on your head and charging you full price for your samples. You’re unsatisfied, frustrated, you smell funny and you’ll be picking cilantro out of your hair for a week.
Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.
My original plan for what follows was to get people at conventions around a table at night for a little Dark Heresy. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a convention and I’ll probably be far too busy at PAX East to run a role-playing game. Still, I thought some of you might find the following take on pre-generated character dossiers interesting. The following tidbits of data are meant to help a player choose a character, without imposing things like looks or gender upon them and allowing them to fill in a few blanks while giving them a general structure to work with.
][ +++++++++ INQUISITOR'S EYES ONLY +++++++++ ][
][ ++++ INTERCEPTION PUNISHABLE BY DEATH ++++ ][
AUTHOR: Brother Ignatius, Comptroller, Office of Inquisitorial Logistics & Tabulation, Calixis Sector
RECIPIENT: Inquisitor Tyburn Graves, Ordo Hereticus, Calixis Sector
SUBJECT: Dossiers – I through III
SALUTATION: To my most esteemed lord, Tyburn Graves, your most humble servant Ignatius extends greetings.
INTRODUCTION: Per your instructions I have begun parsing the observational reports from various sources to determine the candidates most likely to accept an invitation to become an Acolyte in your service.
DOSSIER I: The Adept
LOCATION: Office of Calixian Conclave High Council, Lucid Palace, Hive Sibellus, Scintilla, Calixis Sector
CURRENT POSITION: Archivist
HISTORY: Native to Scintilla. Not born to nobility or wealth. Lack of physical prowess precluded subject from inclusion in Imperial Guard. Natural ability for languages and literacy caused invitation to Calixian Conclave High Council Archives.
CURRICULUM VITAE: Noted for meticulous record-keeping, concise reports and ability to meet deadlines. No indication of career advancement efforts at this time. Has research several Inquisitorial visits and functions taking place in and around Lucid Palace, Hive Sibellus, Scintilla. Knowledgable in various languages and studies of history and local lore.
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Introverted and disinclined to engage in major social activity. Keeps quarters within Lucid Palace well-appointed and clean. Curious in pursuit of knowledge and new languages.
RECOMMENDATION: Extend invitation through official channels of Conclave High Council, with incentives including hazard pay, recommendations to superiors and access to Inquisitorial records (lowest levels, monitored usage).
DOSSIER II: The Psyker
LOCATION: Void Vessel Oculus Obscurum, last seen orbiting Grangold, Calixis Sector
CURRENT POSITION: Sanctionite
HISTORY: Born on spacefaring vessel later destroyed by xenos (ref: Dark Eldar raids on Calixis Sector). Transfered to Black Ships upon discovery of psyker potential. Passed sanctioning test and shipped back to Calixis Sector for tutelage of scholars aboard Oculus Obscurum.
CURRICULUM VITAE: Shows potential in disciplines of telepathy and telekinesis. Has caused no accidental deaths of other Sanctionites. Consistently clear of taint from daemons, the Warp or insidious thought of any kind.
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Curious about life planetside. Unused to non-psyker interactions. Optimistic, confident in abilities, views Emperor and Imperial servants as trusted shepherds and holy folk.
RECOMMENDATION: Provide temporary lodgings on Scintilla once communication with Oculus Obscurum established, offer payment and training under Inquisitorial psykers.
DOSSIER III: The Tech-Priest
LOCATION: Ambulatory Sub-Structures, Ambulon, Scintilla, Calixis Sector
CURRENT POSITION: Technographer
HISTORY: Descended from long line of servants to the Guild Peripatetica, Ambulon, Scintilla, Calixis Sector. Raised to assist in maintenance of city.
CURRICULUM VITAE: Has used knowledge of machine workings to cut off portions of the city as arbitrators have pursued criminals. Known for inspection of outside technology to compare with works from Ambulon. Has applied for work aboard land trains to Gunmetal City or Sibellus several times (all denied).
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Thirsts for further knowledge of new machines. Devoted to worship of Machine God and believes all machines related and none are insurmountable. Supremely focused on work and technology, somewhat terse with biological life forms.
RECOMMENDATION: Approve work aboard land train to Sibellus and continue making transfers until aboard vessel of choice.
][ ++++++++++ THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: ++++++++++ ][
Educate men without faith and you but make them clever devils.
][ ++++++++++++ END TRANSMISSION ++++++++++++ ][
{No audio this week on account of my own lycanthropic rampage.}
There was a time when movie studios didn’t mind being associated with the unusual and the macabre. For years, Universal Studios seemed rather proud of its men becoming monsters. Bela Legosi inhabited the castle and cloak of Count Dracula, Boris Karloff took a couple bolts to the neck to bring audiences the creature of Doctor Frankenstein, and Lon Cheney inspired generations of furries to come by sprouting hair in odd places as The Wolfman. Oscar-winner and character actor staple Benicio Del Toro is a huge fan of Cheney (the actor, not the Dick) and helped bring a new version of this creature feature to movie theatres in 2010. If the production behind the scenes had kept its act together, it might have gone over better.
It’s 1890, and our hero is Lawrence Talbot, an actor who spends half his time on stage and the other half looking for the hidden treasure at the bottom of a bottle of scotch. He gets word that his brother was savagely murdered near his ancestral home outside the sleepy English country hamlet called Blackmoor. Given his emotional connection to his brother and the heartfelt pleas of his would-be sister-in-law, he sets out to uncover what happened, even if that means putting up with his eccentric and possibly violently sociopathic father. During his investigation he gets jumped and bitten by a brutal and enigmatic creature. While the wound mysteriously heals, the process takes the better part of a month, and before you know it, the moon is full again againd Lawrence is growing hair in some very odd places, to say nothing of different bone configurations, more dense muscles and claws that can tear a man’s head clean from his body.
When we see the transformation take hold of our hero, it’s a decent blend of prosthetics, CGI and del Toro giving the role his all. Good sound design makes the cracking of knuckles and sprouting of teeth wince-inducing, playing into the overarching themes of horror and monstrosity. In a similar vein, while you may go into a movie about a wolfman expecting some blood, be aware that this one is full of gore, from gruesome dismemberments to the titular Wolfman chowing down on a hapless victim without the benefit of an after-dinner mint. The movie isn’t all that interested in taking prisoners or pandering to the squeamish, which is a point in its favor.
They have some good chemistry.
The other thing The Wolfman has going for it is some pretty fine casting. Del Toro is a force to be reckoned with on his own, but Sir Anthony Hopkins very nearly steals the show as Talbot’s father. Instead of going full-on Hannibal Lecter from the start, his growth into the affable madness for which he’s become famous is a slow one, the climax all the more satisfying for the build-up. Emily Blunt and Hugo Weaving, as the love interest and the driven Scotland Yard inspector respectively, also slowly become more interesting as the film proceeds after somewhat placid introductions. Ms Blunt’s character in particular seems to defy the ‘damsel in distress’ thing many monster movies like to invoke, and I enjoyed seeing a woman act in a brave and determined manner without it feeling forced or contrived. It made sense, which is unfortunately more than I can say for the narrative structure of the film.
Unfortunately for the actors and special effects crew, the plot and script of the movie are kind of all over the place. It never really comes entirely off the rails in a bad way, but some story points happen too soon, some elements are a little out of place or awkwardly spliced into the flow of the story or some characters are too incidental to justify their screen time. The overall effect leaves one feeling the movie was cobbled together, but as the story isn’t incoherent, it’s more disconcerting than disappointing. I never quite felt like The Wolfman let me down, but I also felt it never truly lived up to its potential. Granted, when breathing new life into a classic you don’t necessarily want to reinvent the silver bullet. But being a troubled production with changes in directors and musicians and whatnot, it certainly could have turned out a lot worse, and when it’s firing on all cylinders it works very well indeed.
“Hello, Lawrence.”
I was immediately reminded of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the 1992 Francis Ford Coppola movie that did for classic vampires what this one does for classic werewolves. There as well as here, we have lurid romantic drama juxtaposed with gruesome violence and shameless bloodletting, and while The Wolfman didn’t have Dracula‘s pervasive sexuality, it also wasn’t saddled with a wooden Keanu Reeves. And come to think of it, Anthony Hopkins starred in both pictures, and a venerable character actor brought the eponymous creature to life. So if you enjoyed Bram Stoker’s Dracula, The Wolfman is right up your alley. They’re both a little over the top, and both suffer from some flaws in terms of production, pacing and overall presentation, but they are both a bloody good time.
Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.
Ever wake up on the wrong side of the bed? It’s terrible. You’re bleary-eyed, groggy, sore from where your spouse has been elbowing you in the ribs all night to stop your snoring… and you’re starving. It’s that stomach-gnawing hunger you just can’t shake until you’ve devoured half the pantry. If that sounds familiar, you’ll immediately relate to the protagonist of Chuck Wendig’s debut novel Double Dead. Excepting of course that Coburn’s a bloodsucking fiend.
That’s not hyperbole. When we meet Coburn, there’s no question that he’s a monster. Vampirism has not turned him into an upper-class snob or a glittery mewling fangless stalker; Coburn the vampire’s an asshole. He knows it. He revels in it. It was what made his nights so much fun until he woke up in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. He hooks up with an RV full of humans heading to the West Coast and, being no fool, volunteers to protect them in exchange for the occasional nibble. Better than getting torn limb from limb and your brains eaten, right?
On the surface, Double Dead is deceptively simple. It’s the sort of premise fans of the horror genre and zombie fiction will find immediately appealing. Diving into it, though, we quickly find these dark waters run very deep. Sure, there are a couple characters who get picked off here and there because it’s the end of the world and everything, but many of them have enough dimension and living, breathing presence that its clear there’s more going on than a simple monster mash-up.
I can’t say it’s for everybody, though. The squeamish will want to avoid it, and be forewarned that Chuck is his usual (and in my opinion, delightfully) profane self. But chances are, being a novel about zombies with a vampire as its driving force, you know already if Double Dead is interesting to you or not. I challenge you, though, to find another zombie apocalypse yarn with a Wal*Mart cult of cannibals, wilderness fortifications manned by juggalos and the scariest thing in a pink bathrobe you’ll ever encounter.
