Adam-Troy Castro

Writer of Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and Stories About Yams.

 

The Stupidest Thing About America’s National Anthem

Posted on February 20th, 2018 by Adam-Troy Castro

The stupidest thing about our National Anthem is that with three of the four stanzas of the original poem omitted for racism or other political reasons and only the third actually sung at ball games and whatnot, what’s left, what we sing, is the cliffhanger.

It amounts to, “Morning’s coming. Is the flag still there?”

When the never-sung fourth verse arrives, it tells us, essentially: “Yay! The flag’s still there!”

So what we sing, what we venerate, is that moment of uncertainty.

What’s actually happening, of course, is that the vast majority of us never actually parse the meaning. Like Ammon and Clive Bundy tearfully reciting the Pledge of Allegiance while vowing to defy the government, which they want us to know they don’t recognize, thus establishing that they don’t understand the meanings of the words “Pledge,” “Allegiance,” and “Republic,” we happily sing a song that, shorn of context, is basically an ode to our survival hanging on a precipice, with a twice-asked plea for somebody with better eyesight to tell the speaker whether our flag has survived the siege at Fort McHenry.

This is honestly beyond ridiculous.

And really, it amounts to the National Anthem equivalent of William Dozier’s narration at the end of an episode of the Adam West BATMAN. Remember those? “Oh no, Bat-viewers! Our Caped Crusaders are bound to a giant document, and about to be stapled by the Joker’s office supplies! Will they live? Or will they bent, folded and mutilated? Tune it tomorrow, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!”

OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM AS WE SING IT IS LITERALLY THAT PART OF THE STORY, BEFORE WE GET THE RESOLUTION OF THE CLIFFHANGER.
Honestly.

THE KING’S CHOICE (2016)

Posted on February 17th, 2018 by Adam-Troy Castro

A day late describing Thursday night’s study in history, the gripping Norwegian film THE KING’S CHOICE (2016), caught on Netflix Disk. In multiple languages including some English, all subtitled.
These days folks might not know the background. In 1905 Norway decided that it wanted to be a Constitutional Monarchy. To wit, they wanted to be a democracy but they wanted a king as figurehead so they imported the second in line to the Danish throne and surrounded him with all the pomp and trappings while giving him no real power whatsoever.

And then 35 years later, Nazi Germany invaded and installed their pet fascist Norwegian, Quisling, as Prime Minister.

The King and Cabinet hit the road just ahead of the invading force riding motorcades and trains deeper into the country, taking refuge in one farmhouse after another, sending their children over the border to Sweden, holding emergency meetings over just how to respond, before finding themselves on the run again. They came under fire. They talked about whether a peaceful solution was possible. They ran, and they ran. Three days of sheer terror.

And ultimately it came down to an overture from the Nazis: the King could return to the palace and go back to being a powerless figurehead, if he just did what the King was supposed to do, in that country, and welcomed the new Prime Minister. If he gave his thumb’s-up to Quisling, he could have his life back.

Complicating this: the cabinet, in hiding with him, really did think he should do it, and he was duty-bound to do what the cabinet wanted. A ceremonial king, remember.

It did not work out that way.

Things this film does extraordinarily well: the terrifying appearance of warships in Oslo harbor. The portrait of the King (Jesper Christensen) as a heretofore unremarkable man in a remarkable position, basically his country’s pet, who at a critical juncture was given his chance at greatness. His contentious but deeply loving relationship with his son, Crown Prince Olav (Anders Baasmo Christiansen). A completely separate moment of greatness from a young soldier, Menig Seeberg (Arthur Hakalahti). The sense, throughout, that you were watching history as it happens, the response of human beings to a crisis they didn’t expect, and do not know how to meet.

I did not know how this worked out for everybody involved (except that the Nazis lost, of course), and was therefore eagerly awaiting the closing text.

A terrific story of power seized from powerlessness.

See it.

Journey to the Far Side of The Sun (1969)

Posted on February 13th, 2018 by Adam-Troy Castro

Originally published on Science Fiction Weekly

Journey to the Far Side of the Sun
Aka Doppleganger
Starring Roy Thinnes, Herbert Lom, Patrick Wymark, Ian Hendry, Others
Written by Gerry Anderson and Sylvia Anderson, and Donald James
Directed by Robert Parrish
102 minutes
1969

GRADE: D+

It is the near future. Everybody drives really neat electric cars. The homes occupied by the characters don’t look like they’ve ever really been occupied by human beings, Much is made of the security precautions protecting the archives of the European space agency, Eurosec, where people like the visiting Doctor Hassler (Lom) have to pass through metal detectors and have their bodies scanned by viewers that provide a clear cross-section of their bones. So much is made of this that we deduce that this must have seemed really exotic in 1969.

Hassler is there to look at some top-secret documents which he’s not allowed to take with him, but unknown to Eurosec, he’s a spy, complete with a fake eye which is actually a miniature camera. As soon as he’s alone he pops the orb out of its socket and peers at the facts and figures. Lom, a fine actor who is best remembered as the French police official who developed a facial twitch in that very same eye whenever Inspector Closeau did something stupid in the Pink Panther movies, seems to have been cast here because of the uncanny control he possessed over that half of his face. He is truly excellent at keeping that eyelid tightly shut over a reputedly empty eye-socket while the other eye remains wide-open and alert; it’s a small skill, but an impressive one, and it is sadly, by far, the best thing any actor does in this movie. Hassler is, of course, soon assassinated at the orders of ruthless space agency honcho Jason Webb (Wymark), and the entire espionage storyline is then dropped entirely, I repeat entirely. It has almost no relevance to the rest of the story, except to persuade a reluctant NASA that it should fund the mission described in the title. Still, that’s a nice trick with the eye.

So, let’s summarize. Secret documents. A fake eye with a camera in it. The cold-blooded assassination of the spy for political reasons. A space agency run by a man who will not stop at murder to achieve his goals. All glossed over after the first half hour. Seriously. If you wanted to, you could call this movie Journey to the Far Side of the Never-Mind.

Starting over: Eurosec starts preparing a mission to the planet that has been discovered sharing Earth’s orbit, albeit in perpetual opposition with the sun as celestial midpoint. The American, Colonel Glenn Ross (Thinnes), is a stalwart sort with a troubled marriage. His wife Sharon (Lynn Loring) enjoys telling him that it’s his fault that they’ve failed to conceive a child, because exposure to radiation from prior space flights has rendered him sterile. He is, she snarls at him, “half a man!” Nice lady. Especially since the real truth, which Ross secretly knows, is that she’s been taking birth control pills. The heartwarming tete-a-tete ends with Ross smacking her around and thus establishing that she’s probably done the right thing.

After about an hour of this and assorted other jiggery-pokery involving the interminable preparations for this mission, the mission finally takes off, carrying Ross and his fellow astronaut John Kane (Hendry). Their interplay is so dull it makes one long for the snappy comic stylings and overwhelming personal charisma of the Apollo astronauts, contemporary to the making of this film; frankly, even the (deliberately) emotionally muted Dave Bowman and Frank Poole of the previous year’s 2001: A Space Odyssey come off as cool as Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr., by comparison. The addition of a couple of unnecessary dream sequences, in a film that needed more padding like Mel Gibson needs more problems with the B’nai Brith, slows things down still further; as do scenes of the astronauts moving in vacuum that, by that point, make the zero-g ballets of the aforementioned 2001 look downright manic.

Does anything of note ever happen in this film? Well, finally, with about a third of it left. A crash-landing on the new planet leaves Ross and the critically wounded Kane evidently back on the very Earth they left, where Ross is understandably asked some very hard questions about how it is that the mission ended up returning home after only three weeks instead of six. There’s a hard interrogation taking place in a circular chamber that Webb has evidently had constructed for that very purpose, leading to obvious questions about how often the head of a space agency would need such a thing. You certainly won’t find any such place in the contemporary NASA tour.

The explanation for Ross’s troubles ultimately turn out to be that the planet on the far side of the sun is an exact doppelganger of ours, duplicating everything that happens on ours in simultaneous mirror image. He is therefore stuck on the mirror world while the mirror Ross is stuck on ours, an exchange that leaves him and his double both struggling with reverse lettering on cologne bottles and light switches that are somehow always on the wrong side of the door. His marriage still sucks, though, so there are some handy-dandy points of reference. (However, we don’t ever get back to what the hell was going on with Herbert Lom.)

Gerry and Sylvia Anderson were the creative team responsible for a series of science-fiction marionette shows that included Supercar, Thunderbirds, and Captain Scarlet, all of which seemed genuinely cool to kids growing up at a certain time and place and are utterly difficult to endure for even a few minutes decades later. (They also made the live-action shows UFO and Space: 1999.) These productions benefited by impressive special-effects miniatures, of the sort that cannot be mistaken for anything other than special-effects miniatures, but retain an odd integrity even so. The same can be said of the spaceships and set design of Journey to the Far Side of the Sun, which are good enough to raise its overall grade by half a letter. But the real problem is that their characters remain equally cardboard whether their limbs are being pulled by strings or motivated by real human flesh. Nobody here is worth caring about, even provisionally.

You could remove the first two-thirds of this story and make a passable half-hour episode of Twilight Zone. It wouldn’t be a great episode, but viewers wouldn’t have to sit through the rest of it to get to the point.

 
 
 

Copyright © 2011 Adam-Troy Castro Designed by Brandy Hauman