Monday, 31 December 2007

I deserve a proof because...

You didn't think I'd let 2007 slip away without declaring the last winner of my Win a Proof of Last Argument of Kings competition did you? The time is now upon us. But this will not be a LUCKY winner, oh no, because this winner will be chosen not by THE DICE, but by ME, and will have EARNED their proof with the work from their brain, which, as everyone knows, is FAR HARDER work than mere back-breaking physical labour. They will have won by providing the conclusion I like best to the sentence "I deserve a proof of Last Argument of Kings because..."

It's been four months or so since I started this competition, and during that time there have been an astonishing 164 entries, inluding one late last night. There were long answers and short, there were funny answers and tragic, there were answers that people had poured their heart and soul into, and there were others frankly lazy and slapdash. But hey, ever author gets the readers they deserve, right? Let's take a closer look at some of my favourites:

There were attempts to delight me with humour:

"I deserve a proof of Last Argument of Kings because I wish to blatantly plagiarize it for my forthcoming novel Final Discussion of Regents."

"...because simply put I'm dying. I've contracted a little understood disease known as Ineverwinthesefuckingcontestsitis."

"...because these books can be as disappointing as a tampon on a wedding night and gratifying as a good jerk after being in a cast for three months."

There were attempts to softly play upon my heartstrings:

"...I'm 6 weeks pregnant and cannot seem to stop vomiting at the most embarrassing places you should just give it to me out of sheer sympathy!"

"...because I was born on April Fools Day, and winning this book would be the one shining moment in a life otherwise filled with cruel mocking and pain."

"...because I have worse teeth than Glokta, and I need some hook to meet hot chicks."

"...because I AM FREEKIN' OLD! and I want to live long enough to read the entire series!"

There were attempts to scare, threaten and intimidate:

"...because if you don't send it to me, I will take the eurostar, hunt you down and threaten you with a soldering iron."

There were many appeals to my vanity (well, aim for a big target, right?), some of which I expect may have been deliberate exaggerations:

"Oh great and magnificent Mr. Abercrombie..."

"I deserve a proof of Last Argument of Kings because I think Joe is as talented as Shakespeare, and as well endowed as Big Dave Bignob."

"...because I solemnly swear to be suitably sycophantic on sffworld, showering you with a deluge of great praise at every opportunity and offering limitless gratitude for the marvellous and, quite frankly, astoundingly well crafted series."

"Oh Great and Mighty Author, Your Faithful Disciple here, and I am ashamed I didn't reply sooner! I deserve a proof of Last Argument of Kings because I have devoted the last 3 months of my life, dauntless in my efforts, to the first two testaments of The First Law and spreading the good word of the ALMIGHTY Joe Abercrombie to the peoples of the Americas..."

Some of these went perhaps a shade too far:

"...because Joe is my solemn God and I worship him daily before eating my morning serials, before taking a dump, and before every sexual intercourse (even if self-serviced)!"

There was shameless pleading:

"...because I am saying please. Pretty please, if that gets me anywhere. Better yet, pretty please oh great-wondrous-author-whose-book-I-most-emphatically-want-to-
get-my-paws-on. I am willing to throw metaphorical cake into the bargain."

"...PLEASE, PLEASE, do not let me go crazzzy: send me the book, pretty PLEASE."

There was painful honesty:

"...because the proceeds from ebay will be used to buy beer."

There were frequent promises to gloat:

"...I will revel with a disgusting lack of shame in the fleeting sense of superiority over my similarly-addicted friends."

"...because I want to read it before my mate who raves about the series and got me onto it and rub it in his face like the prick I am."

There were attempts to show off:

"...because I'm probably the greatest person ever."

"...because I too have a pentagonal trapezohedra and have just generated a saving-throw thereby negating any thou-shalt-not-win spell from even being thought of, let alone being cast..."

There were several out-and-out bribes, though, in general, disappointingly unspectacular ones:

"...because I will bake Joe a chocolate cake if he lets me read it before March"

And some pretty spectacular ones:

"...because I love your books and I must find out what happens! Can I bribe you with my firstborn?"

There were even some of a sexual nature that were somewhat worrying:

"...because I am wearing black frilly knickers."

"...because I just orgasmed (a literal one) thinking about it...while at work."

Yes, it's been quite a few months. I wish that I could give a proof to everyone who entered. Well, not everyone, since then there'd be significantly less people to sell books to, but certainly more than one of them. But, my friends, I am sorry to say that there can only be one winner. Yes, the entry that delighted me the most was THIS one from Dean Wightman, partly because the tragicomic events of his life mirror my own so closely:

"I deserve a proof of Last Argument of Kings because of my tragic childhood. Surviving a plane crash over Micronesia as a baby that killed my adoptive parents, I was initially raised by a whoop of wild Gorillas, then later by savage pygmies who idolised me as someone with special powers and christened me "Mighty White Man", shortened recently to Dean Wightman.

My search for my real bloodline took me to the 4 corners of the world, where a random conversation at the Basilica brought me under the tutelage of Pope Gregory the Ninth. I found myself "Blackballed" during the "Pulpit poofta scandal of 1986", and then found casual work as head mechanic of the all conquering Ferrari Formula 3000 race team. Latching on to the shirt tails of race God Henrik Fastbender, I enjoyed the Billionaire lifestyle jetsetting around the world, basing myself in Monte Carlo buying up super yachts and dating supermodels.

An allergic reaction to some dodgy Cocaine resulted in a multiple leg amputation and I now get by on remote control legs powered by solar batteries located in my forehead, with reading Joe Abercrombie novels being my only remaining pleasure in life."

Dean Wightman, YOU are the final winner of a proof of ... but wait. What am I hearing? Can it be a message from my Dark Masters at Gollancz? A message that there is room in this wonderful contest for TWO MORE runners-up to also win a signed proof of Last Argument of Kings? Is this generosity or insanity? Or is it something more sinister?

Either way, there is a proof available for the very first submission that I received, this brief yet chilling submission from Ady Hall:

"... because I've watched you write it, from my camper van across the street. And when the court order finally lapses, we'll be able to be the bestest of buddies like I know we should be."

If only to ensure that never has to happen, a proof for you, my friend. And another? Why not, Christmas comes (slightly) late this year. JG Thomas, whose submission had a little bit of everything, including this gem:

"...because winning one of these proofs of Last Argument of Kings would be the most exciting thing that happened to me since I left a teaspoon in my Muller Rice desert and blew the microwave up. The top shelf of my bookcase is special: only my favourite books/authors get to squeeze in there. The Blade Itself and Before They Are Hanged are both on it. And there is just enough room to fit in what would be the crown jewel - the proof of Last Argument of Kings. Such a sight would make me weak at the knees. I might even piss my pants a little."

Here's to your crown jewels, JG. Our three winners should be in receipt of e-mails from me shortly. To everyone else who entered, both mentioned or not, my grovelling thanks for your (hopefully ongoing) support and, again, I'm (slightly) sorry I couldn't give you ALL a proof. I can offer you one consolation - you only have to wait until March, and the book is REALLY good. Ha ha.

A happy new year to one and all. See you in 2008, maybe.

Labels: competitions

Happy Birthday to Me

Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday dear Meeee-eeee... You get the idea.

Yes, I'm 23 today.

Raconteur, bon vivant, and pillar of the sfnal community Joe Mallozzi has finished Last Argument of Kings, and gives his opinion on the First Law over on his blog:

"Readers who have appreciated the likes of Lynch's roguish Locke Lamorra and Martin's amoral Jaime Lancaster and wily Tyrion are sure to connect with Abercrombie's characters who, while certainly unsavory in some respects, are at heart human, vulnerable and, yes, despite surface impressions, very likable ... You grow to love 'em over the course of Abercrombie's vast and accomplished narrative as they face tragedies, triumphs, and more than a few surprises along the way. And the biggest of those surprises are saved for the third book, Last Argument of Kings, in which traitors are revealed, unlikely alliances struck, and a secret plot comes to shocking fruition, all amidst the backdrop of one of the most epic battles ever chronicled. A superior book in a superior series."

Thanks, Joe, and welcome to any visitors from the land of Mallozzi. Some of you may have looked at the author photographs and thought, "hmm, a rugged and well-seasoned 23." Fair enough, you're right, I am in truth a fresh-faced 28 today. That's right, I'm an adult (kind of), and I can handle negative opinions. So, in the interests of review karma, and with all the enthusiasm of a man about to snorkel through a swimming pool of shit, I feel I have to point out a slightly less complimentary comparison to George RR Martin from my latest one-star review on amazon.com:

"Uninspired, Third-Rate Martin
essentially a duller version of George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire books. Without too much effort it is probably possible to match up each character in Abercrombie's book with one of Martin's characters (Abercrombie's tortured torturer Sand dan Glokta and Martin's beloved imp, Tyrion Lannister, are only the most obvious). The setting of a British isles inspired medieval land is also generally the same, as is the vague menace in the North and a variety of other plot parallels. Usually a comparison to Martin would be glowing praise, but in this case, Abercrombie does a C or C- job of mimicry at best. The dialogue fizzles, the plot is ponderous and without twists, the villains are not particularly compelling and neither are the heroes. In fact Abercrombie, despite packing his novel with torture, blood, romance, swordplay and magic, manages to turn out a boring and completely forgettable addition to the fantasy genre."

Aaaaargh! Get it off! It burns! It burns! I actually re-read A Game of Thrones recently for a piece I've done for SFX, and while I'm a great admirer of Martin's books and would undoubtedly count him an influence, within the context of epic fantasy, I don't actually think my stuff is that much like Martin's. But hey, this is a democracy (amazon, that is, not my blog, which is a benificent dictatorship, obviously) and I guess everyone's entitled to their opinion. I wonder what he'll make of the second book. What's that you say? You don't think he'll make it to the second book?

Shame.

Alright, I know what you're thinking. How could someone in their twenties talk so mature as what I do? I confess it. I am 33 today, and I know what you're thinking again. How do I keep so young looking? The answer is simple. Only hunch over a keyboard all day, then come home and do it all evening, then have a 1 year old kick you in the face all night. Get up and repeat.

Soon you'll look just as young as I do.

Labels: announcements, reviews

Thursday, 27 December 2007

Best of 2007?

Ho ho ho, merry christmas, and God bless us, every one. OK, so it's the day after boxing day, but there's no internet at my Mother-in-Law's so we'll have to make do. After a brief sojourn into the world of the silver screen, it's high time that we returned to what this blog is really all about. ME. It's been a while since we swept the very corners of the internet for opinions about my writings, and with 2007 drawing to a close, let us examine some summations of the year...

Firstly, in a mammoth review of reviews, SFFWorld's Best Reads of 2007 is a compilation of the opinions of several of my favourite sf&f bloggers (or if they weren't before they certainly are now) - Werthead of the Wertzone, Aidan of Dribble of Ink, Robert of Fantasy Book Critic, and Rob Bedford and Mark Yon from SFFWorld. It featured such comments as:

"Abercrombie's debut rocked my world."

"The Blade Itself was loads of fun and even more impressive because it DID live up to the hype I heard."

"Joe Abercrombie's Before They are Hanged was also top notch."

In the ensuing discussion there was some upset expressed by the denizens of SFFWorld that there was so little variety among the choices of the five participants, an accusation which I couldn't understand, since BOTH The Blade Itself AND Before They are Hanged were mentioned frequently. I mean, how much variety do you want?

There was one author, in fact, that appeared somewhere in the top five of every single one of these leading fantasy opinion makers. I really must read something by this JOE ABERCROMBIE guy. There was also some passing mention of some characters called Rothfuss and Lynch, but I wasn't really paying attention by that point, and I've never heard of 'em myself. Flashes in the pan, probably...

Meanwhile the redoubtable Pat of Pat's Fantasy Hotlist has posted his End of Year Awards, and I note with even more than my usual level of insufferable smugness that I've been selected as the Most Improved Author of 2007. I was also runner up for the second year running in the Most Accessible Author category. Mother! At last! I've come good! You can once again admit to everyone that you have two sons!

Though Before They are Hanged only reached no. 16 on his top 20 of the year (Boo! Hiss!) it was apparently a huge improvement over The Blade Itself. Pat's score for The Blade Itself? An above average but unspectacular 7.5. His score for Before They are Hanged? A hugely improved and much more heartening ... 7.5. And my award for The Internet Fantasy Numerical Assesment Scale Most in Need of Revision goes to...

Ken at Neth Space did his Year in Review, in which The Blade Itself was one of eleven picks for 2007:

"I simply love this first book of The First Law trilogy. It is epic fantasy that does very little that is new or original - but, it's all about the execution. Abercrombie laughs at maps and detailed world building while putting all his emphasis on the characters - and they are great characters. It's written with more wit than most writers use in their entire career."

Judging by how my latest book is going, The Blade Itself was written with all the wit that I'll use in my entire career (ah ha, ha, hah. Of course I'm joking. My next book will be hilarious. I've been keeping back all my best material. Honest.) John, of Grasping for the Wind, likewise posted his favourite books of 2007, and The Blade Itself came in sixthishly:

"It is just a great novel that needs to be read by everyone. A funny and pithy novel, you won't regret reading it."

True, all so very true. Some way into the writing of my fourth book, I feel like a weathered old hag of an author, completely divested of all excitement, innovataion or enthusiasm, so it's surprising to remember that for most of the world's fantasy readers I am still an exciting new voice, fresh-faced and bushy-tailed. Only witness SF Signal's Christmas Gift of First Time Authors:

"Abercrombie has written a story that is long on character and plot, and short on epic-ness. Which is a good thing, given the abundance of door stopper fantasy out right now. Funny, smart and violent, The Blade Itself is a great read."

Ah, the happy memories. Remember when you were still funny, smart and violent?

Labels: reviews

Saturday, 22 December 2007

Days of Glory (Indigenes)

I don't mean for this to become some kind of film reviewing blog because, hey, let's not forget this is supposed to be all about ME, but I saw Days of Glory last night, a French film about North African soldiers fighting for France in World War II, and it's well worth talking about. Firstly, it's a very good film with important points to make, and hence deserving of the searing blaze of publicity that exposure on this blog will undoubtedly produce (ha ha). Secondly, it serves as a rather neat counterpoint to both of the two films I've already discussed.

Where I am Legend managed to take an existing story that is brave, uncompromising, and thought-provoking, and turn it into something cowardly, pointless and utterly disposable, Days of Glory is - well - brave, uncompromising and thought-provoking. Really.

Where American Gangster is ponderous, bloated with unnecessary exposition, and pretends to have a point but doesn't know what it is, Days of Glory is admirably lean and efficient, every scene contributing to the delivery of a heavyweight and heartfelt message. It delivers a knockout punch, alright, but it's trimmed down, clever, and light on its feet. Kind of a Muhammad Ali to American Gangster's Frank Bruno.

Days of Glory is the largely untold story of native-born North African Muslims who volunteered to fight with the Free French against the Germans in World War II. It's focused on an Algerian peasant, an educated Morrocan corporal, an Arab who falls in love with a French girl, a couple of savage mountain men, and the French sergeant put in command of them.

In a world where films seem to be getting ever longer and more bloated, this is admirably streamlined and economical. The recruitment and training of the men, which in a Hollywood film might easily have taken an hour of navel-gazing screen-time, is done with six or seven sharp scenes. Ten or fifteen minutes in the main characters have all been sketched out and the background firmly established without the feeling that anything's been rushed or overlooked. The whole thing clocks in at just under two hours and covers twice as much ground as American Gangster and I am Legend put together.

But it's also a film that has something to say. It has a lot to say, in fact, about the period in which it's set and about the modern world. About the exploitation of foreign soldiers by colonial powers (every bit as relevant to the British as the French). But also about racism in general, and about the relationship between the Western and the Muslim world. It's also remarkable in that it apparently led to the end of the specific injustice of pensions not being paid to the Muslim soldiers who fought for France. A film that did some good? Can it be possible?

It's interesting that for the English language distribution it's been given the rather cheesy title "Days of Glory", rather than the much more thoughtful and suitable "Indigenes" (the word the French officers would have used to describe their African soldiers, with its overtones of colonial contempt). Clearly they preferred to market it as a rousing war film than a film about racism, but the great triumph here is that it's highly successful as both.

It's all done without any tearful hand-wringing or breast-beating though, and I never really felt bludgeoned with THE POINT like I tend to be when Hollywood tries to make MEANINGFUL FILMS (witness the ham-fisted Blood Diamond earlier this year). The story remained always fixed on the characters, unpretentious and understated, with great acting and uncluttered film-making. There are no easy answers offered here, no simple people, and no pat resolutions. War is depicted as random, impersonal, extremely frightening, and very, very dangerous. The action scenes are hard-hitting (with the clear debt to Saving Private Ryan that I daresay everything WWII is going to have from here to eternity), and if perhaps not always exhaustively realistic, they certainly don't lack for emotional content, which at the end of the day is the main thing.

It ain't perfect, of course. There are a couple of moments that left me scratching my head thinking, would that have happened? The final mission didn't seem to make a lot of sense, and it looked for a moment as if the film might wander off into rather standard heroic territory. But then it really, really didn't. In fact I wonder if those cheeky film-makers might have held out the tantalising glimpse of a pat heroic ending just so the one they gave us was all the more stinging. I was left feeling like I'd learned something. I was left feeling as if my outlook on some things might be a bit different as a result of seeing this film. And that's a rare and impressive achievement. Especially when you just watched I am Legend.

9/10

Labels: film and tv

Tuesday, 18 December 2007

American Gangster

Following the RUNAWAY SUCCESS of my post on cowardly Will Smith vehicle I am Legend (22 comments and counting, mark you) I have been prevailed upon (by me) to run my highly developed critical eye (yeah, right) over Ridley Scott's American Gangster. I'm going to find this considerably more difficult to take the piss out of, however, and hence I imagine the laughs (and therefore the comments) will be less. But here goes, and beware of minor spoilers.

American Gangster is, in many ways, a film split in two. It's split lengthways, in that the two main stars, Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe, play gangster and cop, and only for a very brief period at the end are they in the same scenes together. But it's also split two thirds of the way in. The first hour and a half are devoted to the ruthless rise of Denzel Washington's character to the biggest gangster in New York while Russell Crowe's character does, well, some other stuff. The last hour or so there's a sharp change of gear as the cop begins an investigation into the criminal.

Denzel Washington is a great actor, I reckon, though probably fitting into that category of actors that are basically more or less the same in every role, just a very good the same (no bad thing, Clint Eastwood and Al Pacino are not dissimilar in this regard). I've never seen Denzel be less than good, and often very good, and he's good here as the ruthless man of violence on his way to the top of the ladder. But it's a strangely flat, emotionless, absent performance. Probably that's a pretty good representation of a complete psycopath, but it leaves the viewer (or at least this viewer) oddly uninvolved. I sat there on my sofa chomping through my Quality Street as he set people on fire and blew their brains out, neither much condemning the man nor much sympathising with him, just thinking that I like the pink Quality Streets most (the fudge ones). Don't get me wrong, it was a good performance, but a long way from his best.

Then there's Russell Crowe. What to say about Russell Crowe? When I first saw this guy in Romper Stomper, and then in one of my favourite films, LA Confidential, he blew my doors right off with some of the hardest-hitting angry acting you'll ever see. I don't think I've ever seen anyone do a man ready to explode with rage as well as he did in these two films. Since then, though, he seems intent on showing the many, many other sides to Russell Crowe, man of a hundred faces. Not that he's bad at other stuff - he was great in The Insider (ace film) and good in Master and Commander (also a good film). I actually thought he was more than a bit hammy in Gladiator, but my wife and apparently every other female on the planet strongly disagrees. I ain't seen him do much good lately, though. As a big enthusiast for westerns I was really looking forward to seeing him play an outlaw in 3.10 to Yuma (a disappointing film). "Now he'll get out the bad!" I thought, but despite having all the cool lines he got totally acted out of the wild west by Christian Bale. Like a sulky singer who refuses to play his biggest hits on tour and will only do his experimental new material, he steadfastly refuses to get nasty on screen, instead (it would appear) preferring to vent his spleen on hotel clerks and so forth in real life. And I found him pretty bland in American Gangster. Not bad, but certainly forgettable. Like crabsticks. Disappointing (again) from a man I know can deliver so much more.

It wasn't all his fault, to be fair. His sections of the film, at least in the earlier part, seemed a bit of an afterthought, rather ponderously and unnecesarily setting up his credentials as the one good cop in a world gone bad before actually getting him involved in some investigating. A sub-plot about his neglect of his wife and kid didn't really seem to go anywhere in the end. It was all stuff I felt could have been implied just as well with a few well-placed lines of dialogue, as though they were casting about for things for him to do while Denzel built his criminal empire.

But there were some problems on Denzel's side of the film as well, for me. It was all very serviceable, with some great evocation of sixties/seventies Harlem (not that I was there to check the validity, but it looked right to me) and some really fantastic music. But it was kinda drawn-out and slow moving, and the stone-faced gangster on his way to disaster reminded me way too much of a whole stack of other rise of a gangster films. He disposes of cocky competitors in merciless ways. He buys a club, and a piano, then his guys snort lines of coke off it. He lords it up by the boxing ring. He has naked women handling his drug factory, just like Wesley Snipes did way back when in New Jack City. His relationship with his trophy wife in particular seemed like a bit of a carbon copy of Pacino and Pfeiffer in Scarface. It's all supposedly based on a true story, for sure, but there was plenty of room for interpretation that could have taken us into newer waters.

Now, having said all that, after about an hour and a half (over half way through, mark you) the film seemed suddenly to kick into a higher gear. Crowe begins an investigation into Washington and matters become much more focused and involving. There's an excellent sequence of a police raid that was genuinely tense and scary. And, finally, there's a great scene between the two leads that threatens to say something meaningful about society. It felt like a solid film by this point, but it all left me a bit frustrated, wondering whether the first hour and a half couldn't have been drastically cut down or even excised completely. The French Connection doesn't begin by showing you the early part of Popeye Doyle's career in tedious detail. It effortlessly demonstrates what you need to know about his character through his actions and his dialogue, while getting on quick with the work in hand.

Overall, I was left wondering what new tricks this film really brought to a very well-trodden genre. Despite some passing attempts to show the hideous cost of Washington's heroin empire, the film didn't really seem to me to revel in the gangster cool any less than Scarface, or King of New York, or Deep Cover even, and it had nothing like the hard edge of earlier crime classics like The French Connection or, for that matter, The Godfather. Perhaps Washington's oddly emotionless performance had something to do with it. It almost made it worse from this point of view that it was based on a true story, and offered the hint of having something important to say. There was almost a sense of "this is a clever and significant treatment of the subject matter, so it's fine to enjoy watching Denzel Washington blow people's brains out and think no more about it." He's made to look noble by comparison with other criminals because he has sound business practices, and with the bent cops who leech off him, and in the end he's offered a rather unconvincingly upbeat redemption. I felt like the viewer was invited to feel pretty good about their gangster, despite the fact that, when the credits rolled and you thought about it, he was clearly a man about as evil as it's possible to be, who'd directly committed at least three murders and profiteered from death and misery on a massive scale.

I've been harsh, perhaps, but it's Ridley Scott, man, you should expect a lot. In summary, a rather ponderous rise of the gangster enlivened by a much punchier final act. Scarface, for all its over-the-top gaudy splatter, seemed to have more to say about the mentality, and the morality, of a drug-lord.

6/10

Labels: film and tv

Baron Destructo & Me

Joe Mallozzi's in the midst of reading Last Argument of Kings at the moment. For those of you who aren't familiar with Joe, he's the executive producer, and therefore the supremo (I've always wanted to use the word supremo, and you have to use it emboldened) of Stargate: Atlantis.

Now this man, apart from being a serious writer, is a serious blogger. He makes a significant entry every day, without fail, often posts photographs of what he eats (I know, I know, but you can't have everything), and gets over 100 comments on every post, sometimes more than 500 (a day, mark you!), replies to a frighteningly high number of them and still finds the time to argue the toss with restless fans. Does he ever sleep? I'm guessing not. Or maybe he's actually five men working under one name. Or probably five men who never sleep.

Anyway, over on his (ludicrously well-attended) blog he's laid out the enitre story of our deep and long-established relationship, and how he came by the precious ARC. Have a poke around while you're there. His in-depth responses to spam-based swindlers are brilliant. I properly reckon there's a coffe-table book in there. In fact I might have to suggest it...

Labels: news

Friday, 7 December 2007

Second Reaction

Ah, another advance review of Last Argument of Kings from a lucky receiver of an ARC. This time it's from Susi at Sandstorm Reviews, another long-established and much-respected source for all things genre. It goes a little something like this:

"Each book in this trilogy has shown a distinct improvement, and with this fantastic concluding volume, I'd even go as far as to say it's become one of my favourite series."

Well, that's nice to hear. Anything else?

"There's a lot more action in this one than either of the previous two. I normally find blow-by-blow battle scenes pretty boring, but these are so engagingly written that it's hard to look away ... There are some unexpected promotions, unexpected betrayals and unexpected deaths, and overall there are plenty of fantasy conventions beaten bloody and sent packing."

Excellent, I do like to kick those conventions where the sun don't shine. But there's more?

"the trilogy as a whole has crept gradually away from the standard fantasy template and gained a very unique feel ... I can assure you that it's even better than the previous two, and well worth the wait."

Nine and a Half out of Ten, I'll have you know.

Just who's a guy got to sleep with to get Ten around here?

Labels: reviews

I am not Legend

Once upon a time there was a book called I am Legend, written by Richard Matheson. It was rather a good book. In fact it's safe to say that it's a masterpiece of sci-fi and horror both. Robert Neville is the last man alive, everyone else having become a vampire. By day he hunts the undead through the shattered remains of the US, by night he barricades himself in his suburban home while the vampires gather on his front lawn, mocking him, and looking for a way in...

I am Legend was first printed in 1954, but it's every bit as edgy and effective now, perhaps because its influence is still keenly felt in every zombie and vampire film made, more or less. Matheson practically invented the whole concept of 'survival horror' with this one slim volume. The book also features one of the best endings ever put to paper. With the final words, "I am legend", the story is brought full circle and placed suddenly in an entirely different light. Beautifully dark and pessimistic on one hand, but so incredibly neat and effective that you're still left with a sense of wonder rather than sadness. It's a brilliant book, as short and breathtaking as a kick in the bollocks.

Right. You need to forget about all that.

Will Smith is the last man alive. By day he hunts deer through the artfully empty streets of Manhattan (complete with amazing product placement opportunities) for no apparent reason, by night he barricades himself in his swanky uptown townhouse, complete with basement lab sponsored by Apple Computers, and seeks for a cure to the virus that has killed more or less everyone else, and turned the rest into really pale and aggressive CGIs.

He eats stuff from cans. He shops for DVDs. He has flashbacks to his attempts to get his wife and child evacuated to safety as civilisation collapses. He knocks golfballs off of a downed Blackbird on a ruined aircraft carrier. He's very watchable and appealing while doing it, just like he always is. There's also a scene of him doing chin-ups stripped to the waist, which would be gratuitous except that the guy is just so damn buff.

It's nicely made, though I'm not sure when people are going to realise that CGI STILL DOESN'T LOOK AS GOOD AS LIVE ACTION FOR 90% OF STUFF. It has the old wobble-o-vision which everyone seems to shoot in since the first series of 24 was so successful. Ruined New York is beautifully realised. There's a couple of laughs. There's a genuinely scary bit early on in the dark, where I was still thinking this film might be really good. Some lip service is payed to the idea of making it cold and hard-bitten, like a fat kid dipping his toe in the water of the pool, then squealing and running back to the changing room. There's even one moment, late on, where Will Smith's mysterious visitor looks in horror at a wall full of polaroids of the vampires he's killed in his efforts to find a 'cure' and you think - hold on, we could be going somewhere dark and dangerous here - are they really going to do it? Are they going to give us what we want? What we need? What we deserve?

But the vampires don't really gather outside the house, so you don't have that truly terrifying sense of claustrophobia which is so powerful in the book. There's not much investigation of the main character's state of mind - he's not so much the last human, dehumanised as he is a basically nice bloke who's had a couple of bad days and tends to flair his nostrils a lot. Oh, and the ending's an utter piece of gutless dog shit.

Imagine you're telling a story with a brilliantly dark, unpredictable, and satisfying ending. Now remove that ending, and replace it with the most rubbish, cowardly and predictable one you can think of. Now make it a bit more rubbish. Now more cowardly. Now a lot more cowardly and predictable. Now make it twice as rubbish, and you might have an ending as rubbish, cowardly and predictable as this one is. The fact that they used the original title gave me hope that they'd use the original ending, but I should have known better - they do refer to that stroke-of-genius final line, but in a way that makes it utterly cheesy, meaningless, and naff. It's like a kick in the bollocks, alright, but not in a good way.

I wonder if this is a classic case of the existing ending being vetoed by a bunch of faceless producers referring to focus group figures on clipboards, or perhaps a flip-chart with a Venn Diagram on it (three circles labeled rubbish, cowardly and predictable, with the area of maximum profit where they all overlap). "Sorry, Will, the Venn Diagram says we need to re-shoot." I'd like to think so, because the ending's not just cowardly and rubbish, it's rushed, small-scale, and dumb. It's not really foreshadowed by what went before, which it quite easily could have been. It feels tacked on, like the voice-over bit in the original cut of Blade Runner. It gives me hope, in fact, that one day the real ending will be unearthed in the personal effects of the director and put back over the travesty I just watched to make a decent film.

Thing is, I see in all this a bit of a sad metaphor for the state of Hollywood. US TV has never been so strong and effective as it is now, filled with brilliantly dark, unpredictable, pessimistic and realistic shows like the Sopranos, Deadwood, the Wire, and many more. Even within the SF sphere things seem to have got real dark and interesting over the last few years, with good stuff like Heroes and Battlestar Galactica (which I've just started watching and am quite enjoying, thanks for asking). I realise not all of these shows are box office gold, but in general things are very much heading in the right direction.

Big Studio films are by contrast, apparently, in a parlous state, having lost (on aggregate) billions of dollars this year. Rather than growing up and getting with the program the studios seem intent on simplifying, schmaltzifying, and dumbing everything down more than ever. Even when handed on a plate one of the greatest, darkest, most effective endings of all-time, they manage to make it (with no exaggeration whatsoever) into a COWARDLY PIECE OF SHIT. I guess the one advantage is that seeing the film in no way spoilers the book. You can go away and enjoy it just the same as you ever could. I strongly recommend that you do so.

Perhaps I'm being unfair. There's plenty about this film that's not awful. If you'd never read the book you might enjoy it, but just think it had a rather disappointing ending. I have read the book though, so to me ...

It's a DISGRACE.

3/10. I would give it 2, but Will Smith is just so damn buff.

Labels: film and tv

Thursday, 6 December 2007

First Reaction

So, the proofs have gone out, and the very first reaction to Last Argument of Kings can be found, entirely spoiler free, here, at The Wertzone:

"Last Argument of Kings delivers exactly what this trilogy needed: a no-holds-barred war story in which secrets are exposed, mysteries are explained and the author resolutely refuses to pull any punches ... some plot elements may emerge as rather predictable, at least until Abercrombie pulls the rug out from under your feet and, just for giggles, does it again a few chapters later ... The ending is superb, particularly the tremendously satisfying epilogue and the final scene."

The redoubtable Adam Whitehead, who may be familiar to some of you as Werthead from, well, just about every sf&f messageboard and forum ever, gives it four and a half stars.

As I've said elsewhere - just who's a guy got to sleep with to get five stars around here?

Meanwhile, John Joseph Adams gave me the opportunity to toot my horn over on Sci-Fi Wire. And you know how I love tooting that horn...

Labels: reviews

Tuesday, 4 December 2007

Me? On TV?

So, you're never going to believe this, right, but I was interviewed for a TV show the other day. No, not as an eyewitness to/perpetrator of violent crime, but as a bonafide EXPERT on the field of FANTASY WRITING. I know what you're all thinking, but wait, wait, it gets worse.

Contributors to the series include:

Terry Pratchett, Philip Pullman, Guillermo del Toro, China Mieville...

And, among many eminent others, me.

I know.

Someone made a big mistake, right? Surely it was more of a vox pops, happened to catch me on the street with a camcorder sort of thing, right? NO. It was a full-on four-person-crew properly-lit and located hour-long interview. It was like WELL high-brow, and I used some of my best long and complex words like EXHAUSTIVE, ALLEGORY and IDEALISED.

As a video editor myself, and one who's done a lot of documentary work, you'd have thought I'd have been expert at this, but it's surprisingly different on the other side of the camera, I can tell you. It becomes strangely difficult to concentrate and articulate, or, at times, to come up with anything of value. It's very hard to talk naturally, and you kind of drift into a parallel "serious pundit" personality. I'm not sure how much I like my "serious pundit" self. He's a little bit of a pompous windbag, if I'm honest. It was not necessarily a performance replete with wit and humour. Of course, I know well from my own experience that of this hour it would be surprising if any more than a minute actually got used in various pithy soundbites, and it wouldn't be surprising if it was less than that (or, perhaps, none at all). I'm counting on their editor to hone my bloated wafflings to razor-like insights and make me look like a fucking GOD.

Anyway, it's a three-part series about Fantasy, and I'm going to be contributing (provided I don't hit the cutting room floor, and HARD) to an episode about the creation of fantasy worlds. That's right. Me, the anti-worldbuilding, non-map including, character-focused guy. Questions ran to Tolkein's approach to worldbuilding and his influence within the genre and outside of it. Peake's approach to worldbuilding and his influence on the genre. The New Weird and fantasy as a means of investigating the real world. Why authors feel moved to invent imagined worlds and the effect these efforts have on their lives. I know. Like I know SHIT about any of that, right?

Well, you shall find out, shan't you?

The series will be airing some time in February/March on BBC4, which is a UK, cable or satellite based additional channel which carries a lot of high-brow artsy gear. I've been watching a very nicely made series about photography on there, in fact. Judging by the quality of interviewees (other than me) that they've got on there, it should be a fascinating watch for any well-cultivated fantasy fan. I'll keep y'all updated as to exactly when it might be on as soon as I know myself, so you can tune in and wonder, when it's just one massive Pullman interview with a bit of Pratchett spotted around and one quote from Mieville, "Hey, why wasn't Joe Abercrombie in that documentary like he said he'd be?"

Labels: news