"... And Yet Come To Naught In The End But Might-Have-Beens"

I stumbled across some images from Sunshine recently – a science fiction film released in early 2007 – and they only served as a fresh reminder of how close to perfection that film landed; right before it stood up, turned around and ran back down to shitsville during its climax. A gorgeous, suspenseful, psychologically-minded piece, reduced to dull, schlock horror. This thing could have been listed among cinema greats like Blade Runner, Solaris and, even, 2001: A Space Odyssey - yes, I’d go that far - if only Danny Boyle could keep himself from turning gold into nonsense. (Sorry, Danny boy, but your only full masterpiece so far is Trainspotting.)





You have a cast that includes Cillian Murphy, Michelle Yeoh, Rose Byrne and Chris Evans (and I’ll grant that he’s usually dud ammunition in an argument like this but he’s a live round in this case), you have a story, which, despite slight scientific creative license, is a solid space-drama with tense character dynamics and exciting plot devices and you have a cinematographer - Alwin Küchler - who’s managed to make this look like the most visually stunning film that you’ve seen in the last few years. How do you go wrong with these ingredients? (Brief note: Alwin Küchler was also cinematographer for Code 46, another elegantly good-looking and almost sublime film. Speaking of that, Code 46 was directed by Michael Winterbottom who also directed 9 Songs - yet another potentially perfect piece that got screwed by someone not doing their work properly. This is kind of like a six-degrees-of-separation of failure!)

Following closely on the heels of the Coen Brothers’ No Country For Old Men, there’s another Cormac McCarthy novel adaptation coming out soon, called The Road and I'm really looking forward to this. It’s being directed by John Hillcoat, who directed The Proposition, so I’m hopeful that the end result is going to be something really impressive. At least, being an adaptation, John has a set tone and single genre to follow here; unlike Danny Boyle who can’t decide what the fuck he’s doing. If I see the DVD for Sunshine on sale really cheaply, I might pick it up just to watch the first three quarters and then stop before it becomes “Boo! Haunted House” but I won’t hold my breath. Seriously, fuck you, Danny, that film was almost perfect.

The Chaser's War on Publicly Pre-Approved Topics

If you’ve paid any attention to Australian news recently, you’ll be aware that the ABC comedy satire series The Chaser’s War on Everything, its makers and those responsible for broadcasting it, have been crucified over one of their more recent sketches. (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, see here and here for further details.) To sum things up briefly, in a play on the very famous Make-A-Wish Foundation, the Chaser team poked fun at the organisation by darkly acting as the fictional Make-A-Realistic-Wish Foundation; a charity that sees little point in arranging celebrity meetings or expensive international trips for terminally ill children because they’re likely to die soon anyway.

While it’s neither hard to imagine this joke striking a nerve in the parents of sick children nor much of a stretch to label it as being in poor taste, the outcry following this episode seems to be somewhat misaligned. After the show’s airing, the real Make-A-Wish Foundation made a statement about this sketch potentially influencing parents with kids in this situation:

"[The families] won't make a wish because they do feel that psychologically they are signing something that says 'Now my child will pass away'"

As a counter-argument, I have to say that any rational, responsible adult should never make a decision (let alone an important one) based on a TV show’s comedy skit. I’ll be honest and admit that I’ve never particularly been a fan of the show myself. Not because I’m offended by any of the topics – as far as satire goes, they can go ahead and make fun of whatever they want – but, in terms of comedy, I’ve simply never found any of the jokes funny. Animated series’ like Family Guy and American Dad! have offended and grossed me out to the nth degree, numerous times. I also happened to think they’re two of the funniest shows currently in production. The Chaser’s War on Everything just never did it for me. I solve that problem by just not watching it, which some offended parties seem unwilling to do.

We do live in an approximation of a democracy, though, so it’s a little alarming that such a benign matter should explode like this. Australian Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, has stated that he didn’t watch the show and had the sketch described to him, while adding further:

"I actually don't mind the Chaser taking the mickey out of me or any other politician, at any time and any place. But having a go at kids with a terminal illness is really beyond the pale, absolutely beyond the pale."

Is it really so much of a shock that a show titled The Chaser’s War on Everything would screw with topics beyond just the political arena? Comedy is about what’s funny, not limits. Audience members don’t have to laugh at the idea of a Make-A-Realistic-Wish Foundation but why should the topic be completely censored? Especially since it’s making fun of the concept of such a heartless organisation existing and not of the sick children at all.

Comedian George Carlin once said about his craft: "I believe you can joke about anything, it all depends on how you construct the joke; what the exaggeration is. Every joke has to have one thing that is way out of proportion."

This blatant exaggeration is the entire dynamic behind this sketch and it’s this exaggeration that so many people don’t seem to be able to make sense of. The Chaser team has cast its glare on countless popular faces and ideals – those who love to scream ‘religious insensitivity’ or ‘sacrilege’ have been given plenty of ammunition – throughout the series’ run. Possibly the majority of buddy-cop films could be railed against as being racist in all essentials. A disturbing amount of both dramatic and comedic plotlines display gross amounts of homophobia. However, through everything, it’s this that sparks the outrage of Australians everywhere; never mind the fact that you’d need to be totally clueless about this entire issue to take the show (or the sketch’s scenario) seriously.

Keep Pynchon Me

Welcome to the new space. Come in, spread out, dig the minimalist décor. White; like a wedding dress of fresh union, a virgin’s proverbial clean mind and just like a real life A4 page. I’m always doing a lot of reading but, lately, I’ve mostly been flicking through odd chapters in books that I already know very well, picking out select moments or passages that I always enjoy (or currently feel like) reading. I was looking forward to sinking into my new – and first – Thomas Pynchon purchase in the last week. I’ve had a fairly persistent head cold, though, and I was reluctant to start anything as thick and complex as Gravity’s Rainbow without the full command of my attention. So, unfortunately, I’ve only read about 7 pages, so far, of this 900 page beast but what I will say about this is, despite the hype of intellectual intimidation that surrounds books such as this, I’m actually really looking forward to the whole piece already.



Wikipedia has this to say about it: 'Frequently digressive, the novel subverts many of the traditional elements of plot and character development, traverses detailed, specialist knowledge drawn from a wide range of disciplines, and has earned a reputation as a "difficult" book.'

And a little further down the page: 'The plot of the novel is complex, containing over 400 characters and involving many different threads of narrative which intersect and weave around one another.'

Wow. Tell me that doesn’t make you just want to gamble your entire future on this novel. When the intellectual, literary community readily labels something as a difficult book to read, you know it’s going to be a piece of work that tests your mental capacity and patience. Honestly, I’m really jazzed about it. You know why? Because I don’t know what’s going to happen or how. It’s occurred to me that, however many authors I’ve read, it’s been rare for me to be completely immersed solely in the characters or plot of a novel. As a fellow writer I tut and niggle at lines, phrases or rhythms. I’m aware of the machinery behind the style and sometimes – even in a first reading – I can’t help but “correct” the odd word/metaphor/poetic device to my liking. I’ve done it with elite class writers and I’ve done it to riffraff class writers and that shouldn’t be happening anywhere. I might be aware of stylistic choices but I shouldn’t be able to take time to fixate on them. As a reader, I should be made to want to desperately know what happens. Characters and plot should be my mind’s focus. I should be swept along.

I like a lot of great writers and I adore their work for various reasons but I now realise that it’s been extremely rare for me to read anything without any preconceived ideas or desires. I might be busy making stylistic judgements/adjustments in my head, I might foresee the plot’s direction and decide what I expect or want, I might understand the book’s genre or the writer’s intentions and start predicting/second-guessing based on those, I might wait/look for certain content based on what I’ve heard/read or know is there, etc. I can’t do any of that in Gravity’s Rainbow. I’ve got 400 characters to look forward to meeting; themes of nuclear apocalypse, nature, psychology, sexuality to pick out; as well as technological references, historical references, war-time pop culture references, mathematical references and literary references to try to understand. I don’t even know if Gravity’s Rainbow even technically has a genre to name; you know, other than, “Read This: It’ll Make You Trip Balls.”

I’m impressed that, for the length of this book, I’m only a reader and not a writer. For perhaps the first time truly in my adult life, I’m beginning to read a book like I first did as a child. I put my mind completely in Thomas Pynchon’s arms, allow him to throw me around, spin me, drop me, confuse me, lead me, manipulate me – whatever he wishes – and just trust that, in the end, I’ll be fine and it’ll be a great ride.

Now, having said that, my enjoyment and lack of fear about this book so far may be significant; maybe my hubris-laden arse is setting itself up to be another soul for the mighty Gravity’s Rainbow demon to conquer.