My daughter (11) and I braved the crowds and overpriced popcorn to see Hunger Games on opening weekend.

We had both read the trilogy, and neither of us were bothered by the violence that has stirred controversy of late. We weren’t sure if the movie would be a bit gory for us, but I promised to nudge her if it looked to be heading that way. Didn’t turn out to be a problem.

What surprised me was the number of men in the audience. I thought it heartening, from an authorial standpoint, that there have been enough good stories with active female leads that guys no longer dismiss the movie as a chick flick, nor do they go hoping to see a bombshell with balloons on her chest.

But anyway, since then, I have seen the show twice more, and only now do I feel ready to give an opinion about both the story and the film. Why was this one so hard to pin down? I think it is because it is the anti-Twilight. Stick with me, here. Reading the Twilight series is an escape from reality. A sickeningly perfect man, a drippingly sweet romance, “problems” of a love triangle, with a drummed up social conflict wrapper that doesn’t feel real or immediate to our own world.

Hunger Games, on the other hand, hits so many notes with people, resonates, because it puts reality right in our faces. Its social conflict echos history in countless ways and lays out an inevitable future, perhaps not in the particulars but in the generalities. It forces us to see the everlasting state of man on the earth as a seeker of power and control and dominion over his fellow man, whatever the cost. Other books, (indeed, all cautionary tales), have warned of this, but Hunger Games does it with a flair that widens its audience — in contrast to, say, Lord of the Flies (or countless others). Oh yeah, and there is a romance, built on real respect and kept in the background to the real conflicts.

I have concluded that HG is so effective because its author, Suzanne Collins, came from television writing, and thus wrote a very cinematic book that appeals to today’s audience. I recently commented on an email list that this is one flaw I found in the books, that they were not subtle, that everything was right “onscreen”. My imagination, when given the chance, makes things much more sinister than any concrete thing she wrote in the series. Collins also co-wrote the screenplay, and here she really shines as a creator. With a solid team of cinematographers, costumers and others, the vision becomes more complete, the themes clearer.

So, this is a singular story where the film is actually better than the book!

Here are a few themes my daughter and I discussed after seeing the film:

• Awareness of manipulation changes you from being a victim to a person with power (the kids in the games, best articulated by Peeta).
• Priorities, and what we will compromise for (similar to above… “If I’m going to die, I want to still be me.” –Peeta “I can’t afford to think like that.” –Katniss).
• Sometimes our only power is to opt out of something, and we should use it (Gale doesn’t watch the start of the games, but goes to the wilderness).
• Societies with cancerous cores are overly concerned with image, comfort and personality, including apparel and other adornments (the Capital citizens. Effie Trinket provided an excellent contrast in appearance and dialogue).
• Totalitarian regimes most fear individual spirit and will work to break it systematically (personified by the President but in truth it is always an oligarchy).
• And, no matter how they try to squash it, the human spirit is ultimately uncontainable (the outlying districts, but also in the film personified by Kato at the end).
• Societies may have very little material wealth and even struggle to survive, but they still form families and band together and value each other. Government doesn’t create society, it is self-organizing. (district 12, and 11 [Rue's district]).
• Scientific and technological advancement is double-edged when used without considerations of morality (muttations, the games themselves, etc.) On this, we noticed how technology de-humanized those in the district (the blood typing, the injected trackers, etc) but it also de-humanized the Capital citizens with their made-up bodies.

Historical and literary nods:

• The Olympic games of Greece.
• Ancient Rome at the time of the Colosseum — the tributes’ first entrance by chariot to kick off the games — even the sountrack felt Roman. In a documentary I watched last week, it was said that during one week of gladiator games, 11,000 animals were killed for sport, They didn’t even bother counting the human total. It’s recorded that some people who came were intoxicated by all the violence, and in fact went mad from it.
• The costuming and lens filters in the districts was strongly reminiscent of early to mid- 1900s. Especially during and post-war times. This was particularly powerful for me, as is last century has been the bloodiest of human history. Later, below the arena, the entrance pod area was very much a modern torture chamber. Was that a handheld shower station to the right of the pod? For washing off blood and fluids?
• The President scenes were in a garden of mostly roses that reminded us of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. And if you look at how they interpreted the capital costuming, it’s very “down the rabbit hole” as well.
• Did it remind anyone else of The Truman Show with the gamemaker and his team interspersed with the main story, and the cameras in the arena?
• I was glad to see that, unlike The Matrix which made all the “bad guys” white and the zionists multi-cultural, this film put people of all races on every side — capital citizens, district folk, tributes, the game tech team. Makes it easier for us to overlay the parable onto many cultures and not feel they are forcing us to a particular conclusion. In human history, no culture or race has been immune from evils.

I do think that book one of the Hunger Games trilogy is the most clear in its themes. For the purposes of literary discussion, the book stands alone and in fact, its themes become diluted over the next two books. However, there are some upcoming themes hinted at that will be important in later films, assuming the complete the trilogy. For instance, the Avox servants in the background.

I had a couple tiny nit-picks — were those guys peacekeepers or stormtroopers? The white outfits were strange. And the way they made it seem like the dogish mutts were designed and bred in the space of thirty seconds gave me such a big “oh yeah?” that it seemed impossible they could tear human flesh during the climax.

Overall, the movie was spot-on in the notes it hit. I’m not a movie crier, but even the third time I went, I teared up at the district silent salutes (both when Katniss volunteers and when district 11 shows it for Rue). They didn’t overdialogue the story — there are long silences and only slight emotion on the actors faces during much of it. Thus it achieved what the book lacked — subtlety and therefore depth.

So! I recommend this richly symbolic film for all but the most squeamish.

Enjoy!

First, I read Little Britches: Father and I Were Ranchers by Ralph Moody. This, like Little House, is autobiographical about a young boy’s family move to a Colorado ranch. Ralph is the oldest boy and so he works to help earn money for the family, and helps around the ranch. He rides horses, drives farm equipment, meets wild westerners and indians. He gets to see the friction and community that goes on around him with the other farmers, all trying to scrape out a living in an area that is light on irrigation and long on hard labor. But the awesome thing about this book is the lessons Ralph learns from his experiences, particularly from his Father. It’s a book that shines with the values of another age, nearly forgotten now. Yet it doesn’t blast them at you, it simply breathes them. It makes a wonderful family read-aloud because each chapter is a mini-episode consisting of one adventure. Once you start talking, you can’t help but slip into Ralph’s authentic voice and the fun begins. Give it a try!

Ralph Moody wrote several more books, so I’ll be reading Man of the Family next.

Also, I’m reading Laddie by Gene Stratton-Porter. The main character, Little Sister, lives in a horse-and-carriage farming society as well, and has a decidedly less functional family, but still a loving one. She won me over when she described the circumstances of her birth, that “never was there a baby born who was wanted less” — because she was the twelfth child after a six-year break. She loves her brother Laddie most of all because he’s the kindest to her, and we understand from the first pages that there is a secret romance going on between Laddie and a girl from an atheistic English family. Something her family would not approve of. I’m only about half-way through, and though I’m finding it less engaging than Little Britches, I still like it and will finish. I also found a free copy for my nook so I have it electronically on hand wherever I go.

I’ve always been more for Sci-Fi and Fantasy versus Historical Fiction, but I’m realizing that there is as much other-worldliness in other eras as there is in Middle Earth or Narnia. And the truths about humanity are still there, as well. Good fiction helps us explore the human condition from the inside. That is its great strength, and so it is with Little Britches and Laddie.

Read on!

And, on occasion, I contribute to the wonderful writing community over at Scribbler’s Cove >> so be sure to check them out if you have an inclination toward the art of the written lie.

Enjoy!

A Game of Shadows

I, like so many others, like to indulge in a family movie over the holidays. This time, it was the new Sherlock Holmes film. I enjoyed the first one, but this one looked even better, as they introduce Holmes’ nemesis, Professor Moriarty. That makes it more interesting from the start.

The story is a fun romp through clues (as any good mystery should be) in a steampunkish world that I found appealing. Now, there was a time when I would have torn the science apart, and surely there are many that already have for this film, but it didn’t bother me. In fact, what they’ve made of Holmes is a superhero. Superhero worlds have shoddy science. Think Bruce Banner. Spiderman? Please.

Yet don’t we all love a superhero story?

I don’t want to spoil too much of the fun if you haven’t seen it, but I want to say that I was impressed with how high they set the stakes in the first part of the film. I was firmly invested after we see what Moriarty is capable of… especially important because, as a superhero movie, we know Holmes (and Watson too) are not in any real danger of death, or even of not winning.

Other good things: the musical score!

And, the comedy, boy, was it funny. The guys have a real rapport that comes through, but the sparkle is in the situational comedy and dialogue of some very witty writers. Had a bit of a Pirates of the Caribbean feel to the humor. Very in-world. Let’s check who has writing credit… Michele and Kieran Mulroney, whose other main credit is a film I’ve not heard of: Paper Man. Hmmm. Looks a bit off-beat, but maybe I’ll check it out.

It’s interesting that on a big-budget film with strong acting and directing, riding on the shoulders of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the credited writers are relative nobodies. Kind of encouraging for other aspiring writer nobodies who shall remain nameless.

If you miss it in the theaters, it’s at least worth a Netflix. It’s head and shoulders better than the first one and makes you want to delve into the novels if you’ve yet to get around to them. For me, the Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes has made it onto my reading list for the first time as a result of this fun film. Check it out!

So, you’ve all picked up your fancy copies of the final Harry Potter movie by now, right? I won’t be spoiling anything by getting into the nitty and the gritty of it, because you saw it at least twice in the theater (once with kids/friends and once with a bewildered significant other) and once or more on your lovely home theater system. Unfortunately for me, the movie shows nearly black on my mediocre screen, and I was too lazy to adjust, so it wasn’t the visual spectacle at home that it was at the movies. Still, the story is why we’re all here, right?

The Story

Let’s be honest. There were criticisms about the meandering length of book 7. I hear that, but for those of us who were really invested, we didn’t mind wading through some dead ends and emotional flip-flops along with our beloved characters. We knew it meant we could spend a little more time with them before saying goodbye. But that would have been disaster in a film. They had to cut, cut, cut and focus the story into two satisfying arcs, and what they chose to do was to make the first arc character-driven, and the second, epic (world-driven). This was a smart choice, in my view.

To back up to part one briefly, to explore the character arcs: I enjoyed the friction and frustration between Harry, Ron and Hermione, and the gelling of their relationships, especially Harry/Hermione as friends and Ron/Hermione as a couple. I loved the moment, after Ron has stormed away and Harry and Hermione are finally forced to leave camp without him, that they apparate to a new area and Hermione begins to cry, while Harry must carry on and cast the protective spells that Hermione usually does.

I wrote in just one extra line in the first movie, as I’m prone to do, and it was this: when Hermione is sad about Ron, Harry takes her hand and dances with her. They laugh a bit and the mood lightens, but then it settles again into sadness. No dialogue is there, and so you could get the impression that Harry is sad romantically for Hermione, that he was making a play for her and it was rebuffed. Well, maybe they wanted that ambiguity, but I think it cheapens the beautiful friendship between them. I would have added a clarifying line from Harry. Simple, clear, eloquent: “I miss him, too.”

As for other emotional arcs, I thought it was important that they kept a bit about Harry’s struggle to keep faith in Dumbledore even as information about him changed. This was one of the strongest themes in book 7. Faith is what you do when doubts come into question. It’s easy to have faith when things are going well, so the fact that Harry decides to have faith in Dumbledore when things get hard… that is what counts. That is what transforms him from a boy to a man.

Oh, and I have to applaud whoever invented the wonderful interlude animation of the Deathly Hallows tale. LOVED IT.

On to part deux. In my opinion, Harry has matured. He’s grown up. He acts as an adult. In part one, he makes that transformation, so when part two opens and we see him interview the goblin and hold his own, then be unafraid to gently accuse Olivander for his weakness, we know we are dealing with a strong hero in this movie. Not the scared boy from book one, not the lucky bumbler from book two. Harry is a man.

So I knew this story would be the best one yet. I like men.

Since this movie was epic (not just action), I was glad they made a point to check in on all of our favorite characters for a bit of closure, and even threw in tons of details and nods from the other books (portraits on the walls, pixies in the room of requirement) for a full-circle feel. Even doing so, it was so lightly sprinkled, the details didn’t slow down the action at all, and I felt increasingly invested in every minute of this film. My kids, too, who were a bit young the the books first came out (read: unborn) found a fresh interest in the series as a result of this movie.

Changes (from the book) that worked well:

• Harry (and Voldemort) can feel the horcruxes. There is a little snakey sound as Harry approaches, even. They are both affected when one is destroyed. This worked well for the film.
• The gold in Bellatrix’s vault did not blister our heroes. Thank goodness… would have been gross. Also they don’t Crucio Harry’s body at the end, which was also a good idea.
• Snape assembles the students into the great hall and Harry appears — this worked great! I loved the dialogue about “somebody grab him!” and then the friends step in. But I most loved the McGonagall / Snape duel. I actually loved every millisecond of McGonagall in this movie. I love her character anyway and Maggie Smith plays her exactly as I imagine.
• Voldemort’s voice: in the book it is loud and booming, but in the movie it is an intimate whisper, which I think is really terrifying. I love the look of disgust on Harry’s face when they first experience the voice.
• They show the Elder wand begin to crack under Voldemort’s hand. This was interesting, and justified his heightened fury. Like.
• And can I just say that I loved the degeneration of Voldemort. His physical movements, wow! By the end, he’s hobbling around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
• A few things are simplified with regards to the snake, all of which I thought were useful changes. Fortunately, they still had Neville kill the snake (though he didn’t know it was a horcrux) which I felt was important, since Neville was the Harry-alternate, had Voldemort decided to “mark” him instead.
• The epilogue was fantastic, and somehow it made the idea more clear even than in the book that Harry achieved immortality, not by horcruxes or even hallows, but through progeny. That was beautiful.

Things that could have been better:

• Ron and Hermione’s kiss. Need I say more? I know, it’s true to the book, but ewwww.
• The pensieve trip into Snape’s memories: this was flowing and beautiful but totally incomprehensible if you’re not a many-time-reader of the books.
• When Harry realizes he has to die, the book speaks beautifully of his awareness of his own healthy heart. In the movie, all he does is clutch his chest, which is a little lackluster. I actually think a little CG could have been artfully done to illustrate his feelings better. Just a little.
• Harry, after his death, asks Dumbledore, “What should I do?” and calls after him as he disappears. Naw. I didn’t buy that. Harry knows what to do. He’s a man now, remember? He doesn’t ask that boyish question. Least favorite line in the movie.
• Voldemort hugs Draco. Whaaaa? Nuff sed.
• The wrap-up: Harry doesn’t get applauded by the portraits!! This is my favorite scene in the book, and I missed seeing it come to life. Harry also doesn’t repair his own wand, which I thought had such wonderful symbolism. In the end scene (before the epilogue), they look off into the distance, which was a little cliche.

Music:

WOW! Even as the DVD menu started, with that tinny music-box reprise of the theme, I knew this score was special. It was lovely throughout. I’m going to own this one. The full-blown original theme plays when Harry first steps back into Hogwarts’ room of requirement, which was fitting. The score is awesome when the stone soldiers awaken, when the attack begins (percussion sounds), and in the pensieve — so sad there.

Cinematography:

Some beautiful work here as well. Our view shifts from under to outside the invisibility cloak in the Gringotts Bank scene — awesome. The dragon was realistic enough not to detract. The shield around Hogwarts and all the attack graphics were very cool. The Death Eater flying-in-smoke thing was again well done. I liked the fiend fire, how it turned into V’s face at the last second. Sweet. But the best part was the pure white of Harry’s death. After such a dark movie, this contrast is brilliant. Literally.

A few great lines:

Harry, to parents and “uncles” Sirius and Remus: “Why are you here?” Answer: “We never left.”

Dumbledore, in the white King’s Cross: “You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man.”

Also from Dumbledore: “Words are our most invaluable source of magic.”

Let’s also note that JK Rowling had producer credit on both parts of HP7, so extra credit to her for an awesome wrap-up of an unequaled series. This one, of course, gets five nods from me. * * * * *

 Enjoy!

Pathfinder is a bit of a genre blend, with some mystical/fantastic elements like (more-or-less) magical talents and some sci-fi tropes like space and time travel.

Main character Rigg has always had a unique ability to see living things with a path trailing behind them. Initially, this is only helpful in tracking animals with his father, but soon he finds that the luminous trails are echos of where that person (or animal) has been in the past.

Once he teams up with another boy who has the ability to manipulate time, things get pretty interesting.

The scope grows with the story, becoming heroic – epic, but in the hands of such a seasoned storyteller I didn’t get lost, nor did I stop caring what happened to the individuals I started the journey with.

If you are familiar with sci-fi / fantasy, I think you’ll enjoy Pathfinder. If you’re used to mainstream YA, you may struggle with the pacing. He explains the background of civilizations, though not in as thick a way as old sci-fi. It does feel like modern sci-fi, but I have to argue with the designation of YA.

It isn’t paced as YA. The jacket and dimensions definitely don’t feel YA. It doesn’t contain any R-rated content so it works nicely as a crossover, but if I were a sixteen-year-old sci-fi lover, I would be looking for this book on the regular adult sci-fi shelf, not among the girly vampire romances that still plague the young adult section.

I picked Pathfinder up off a center display table at Barnes & Noble that featured discounted big-name books… so I fear Pathfinder has not been selling well. I feel sure this is because of the jacket treatment, et al. Also, I didn’t find a word count on this tome, but it feels to be well over 100k, thickness akin to Harry Potter 7, which also may dissuade readers.

Which is too bad. It’s a well-handled story that you can sink into and enjoy for a week of evening reading. None of those false, tricky hooks that make you blaze through it at lightening speed (like Hunger Games) while neglecting house and home — those types of books are starting to really annoy me. I do have a life, after all.

My only complaint was that after the satisfying “end”, Card has a final reveal and sets us up for book 2 in a sort-of tacked on way. This is something that always makes me want to wait until a series is all written before I begin. But oh, well. I’ll be reading book 2 to see how Rigg and his cohorts meet their next big battles.

Enjoy!

The story starts on the day sixteen-year-old Keturah meets death — but death comes in the form of a stately, cloaked man. She tries (as many have surely done) to talk her way out of the inevitable, but because her storytelling is better than most — and she refuses to tell him the ending — he stays her sentence for a day with the promise that she’ll come back and tell him her story’s ending the next night. Her only way to avoid death on the morrow is to find her true love.

Now, as a rather gentle heroine, she must help her town and seek her true love in order to get out of going with Lord Death full-time. Especially because he has promised to take her to wife when she returns.

The strength of this story is in the language the author uses. It’s warm and pleasant like a candlelit bath, you just want to sink into it. It’s a fairly quick read at 52k words so it’s a great way to whet your appetite for more high romance.

Great for younger teens, too, sweet love and no raciness. If you’re a middle-schooler who likes romance, this is better reading than Twilight, IMO. Stake and burn me now, if you dare.

Now, you already know what it’s about, right? If not, please go read the (rather short) book (and all other Narnia books by C.S. Lewis), you won’t be sorry. Then go see the preview to whet your appetite for sweeties.

One sentence run-down, in case you’re really that lazy (like me, most of the time): The two younger Pevensie children, Edmund and Lucy, along with their useless cousin Eustace, end up in Narnia again to join King Caspian and his crew in a seafaring quest.

I was worried at first, for when the Pevensie’s (now looking like young adults) first step aboard Dawn Treader, they are greeted by a truly horrible suited minotaur — is that what they are? I’m too tired to check. A suited somebody that looked like a gorilla, anyway.

Fortunately, after that shot, they did have a bit of nice CG on the faces of the talking animals. Much better than the first movie, for sure. And the fur was much nicer on Reepicheep the mouse as well as Aslan the lion, particularly in the last scene where Lucy gets her fondest wish of a hug from Reep.

But I’m getting ahead of myself!

The movie was wonderful. All the Holy-wood adjustments were fine, even pleasant. The evil green mist resonated of the way the Harry Potter death eaters are depicted when flying. It suited the movie.

One of my very favorite Narnia scenes of all the books occurs in this one, so let me comment on that. It is when Eustace tells about being turned by Aslan from a dragon back into a boy. I’ve often read it aloud to my children, it’s a speech that begs to be done that way. It’s beautiful. The whole movie, I worried they would skip this, but they in fact gave us a nice, though short, in-person view of that happens, as well as Eustace’s words about it in a subsequent scene. I was happy. Couple more seconds of it — of Eustace uncomfortable in the dragon skin and trying vainly to remove it himself — would have had me in actual tears.

You’ll enjoy this one very much, if you’re any kind of Narnia fan. If you’re not, get on the wagon, there’s still room even after half a century.

Oh, I’m going to add one line of dialog where it was sorely missing in the movie. It happens during a scene with Lucy and a younger girl. The girl’s mother was earlier taken away in the evil green mist. The girl says that “Aslan couldn’t stop my mother being taken.” To which Lucy gives some innocuous answer that I didn’t hear because I was writing my own dialog for her. The books say this so often, surely the movies have used it at least once, but here was the moment for a repetition:

Lucy: He’s not a tame lion.

This is what they say in Narnia. Aslan is a wild lion, good, but wild. They say this when they mean that His ways are not man’s ways, and His thoughts are not our thoughts. But he is great and good and we can trust that he knows best and will make all things right in the end.

Ah, good literature. I sincerely hope that in spite of the entirely different cast of characters, they go back and do The Horse and His Boy, my favorite of the books. But I am content, for tonight. Good night!

Enjoy!

So here she was, dressed head-to-toe in a silver gown with long, silver-blonde hair, obviously starring in a magical story of some sort. Well, I was more than right, as she was playing a LITERAL star, in a quirky fantasy based on the novel Stardust by Neil Gaiman. Check out the movie if you haven’t, you’ll be treated to Robert De Niro in a corset and Michelle Pfieffer with one sagging breast.

I later picked up my first Neil novel of the same title and enjoyed it very much. Technically, I listened to it, and he is an excellent reader of his works, as well. I went on to sample a few more of his works for children, but didn’t get into much of his adult fiction.

Until this past week.

I needed more audio for my trip to Yellowstone, and on the library shelf was Anansi Boys. I was hoping for the flashier, much-talked-about American Gods, but I grabbed Anansi Boys anyway.

I was disappointed when I put in the first CD and realized Neil was not reading this audiobook, but in time I realized that it was perfect having it read by Lenny Henry. His voicing of the Carribean accents was wonderful.

But on the story itself — I get the feeling that this book is not people’s favorite Gaiman story. It’s strange, it’s quirky, it deals with the gods of African tales and ghosts and sweet old-lady witches. I get the feeling there’s been some confusion about where to shelve this book, though it is clearly adult fiction with an adult main character, Fat Charlie. Fat Charlie is leading a kind of ho-hum life, but he loves and wants to marry a sweet girl who insists on him reconnecting with his father for the upcoming wedding. He soon finds out that his father has died, and when he goes to Florida for the funeral he finds out that the father he was always so embarrassed by was actually the trickster god Anansi — the spider.

From there, a major can of spiders is opened when Fat Charlie invites the “brother”** he never knew he had to come visit him. Interspersed in the narrative is the occasional story about Anansi the spider and the other gods, and I have to say, the first one left me and my family roaring… gales of laughter, I tell you. It was then we knew this was a specially-woven fabric of story. It’s not just about one man — though you do cheer for this poor guy by the end — it’s about a bunch of ordinary people experiencing extraordinary things. It ties up neater than a professional gift-wrap at the end, too. I loved it.***

* Note that I don’t  usually link you to some boring summary of media I reference in my reviews… I usually hand-pick a youtube clip that I feel represents it… and so it is, here. So follow them, often! (they open in new windows)

** You’ll see why I quoted “brother” when you read (or hear) the book.

*** I’d say this is a 14 and up read for language and some sexual inferences. Didn’t bother my kids, though.

I also liked the way the book was told in alternate first-person, sort of as a series of journal entries… but more like word snapshots. My son’s first-grade teacher would call them “small moment” scenes. Short but detailed. It was a great way to keep us invested in what would otherwise be a rather confusing, tangled story.

If you are the sort of person that just can’t get past the paradoxes that the whole premise of time travel deals with, then this story isn’t for you. If you can, you’ll enjoy either the book or the 2009 movie, or both.

Hey, that’s funny. I just realized that the movie’s main actor, Eric Bana, his last movie was about time travel, too — the new Star Trek.

I’ve had a hard time liking Bana since he played in the 2003 screen version of The Hulk, a movie I absolutely hated. I wanted to like it, because I liked the TV show and think the Bruce/Hulk is one of the most interesting super heroes. He’s not simply Jekyll and Hyde — good and bad. I like to think of Hulk as misunderstood. And that there are times for the use of anger and physical power, like to protect the weak and innocent, not to be a victim of a vilified military. The 2008 version looked exactly the same — Hulk vs. the military and I think that’s really boring.

(I also wanted to like the 2003 Hulk movie because of my long-time love of the movie Labyrinth in which Jennifer Connelly also starred. But I digress.)

But, in The Time Traveler’s Wife, Bana is really good, as of course is Rachel McAdams, who I liked in this performance better than in The Notebook.

Back to time travel.

It is nearly impossible to create a good story that centers around time travel, because first you have to deal with what happens when you change something in the past or future. This movie didn’t attempt to grapple with it, which makes it a little unusual. It laid out, very early and very clearly, that Henry, the time traveler, didn’t have the power to change anything significant in the past or future. Of course, the things he does throughout the movie change things as far as his relationship to his wife, but still… I could accept these boundaries and enjoy the movie within them.

This made the movie really a story about a man’s relationship with his wife.

Their relationship reminded me a bit of Lois and Clark (Superman), where she is the stability that anchors him, domesticates and humanizes him. Poor Henry, though, instead of having super-powers, has a super curse, in that he cannot control when or where he travels in time. There are some redeeming factors, though, and I enjoyed how these things made room in the story for other elements. After all, a guy that time travels at random can hardly hold down a job, so it’s very helpful that he can win the lottery so as not to be worried about money on top of his other issues.

I found it particularly interesting that the story took on infertility as a main issue. It made the otherwise rather perfect Clare more real, that she had serious issues of her own to grapple with.

So, Henry and Clare ended up being, for me, one of the more relatable couples I’ve seen onscreen. They are experiencing a great love, but not an ideal life, and I get that. Awesome love doesn’t equal perfect life. Not until we’re all behind the pearly gates, I guess.

The screenplay writer is Bruce Joel Rubin, who also wrote Ghost and several others. I liked this screenplay well enough that I’m tempted to check out his lesser-known films like My Life and even Stewart Little 2! Well, we’ll see, since he also wrote the Last Mimzy which I found rather silly.

On a more visual design note, the movie had a lovely look. You get a feel for it in the movie poster, isn’t that image beautalicious?

This movie gets four and a half nods from me!

enjoy!