Del and Mladen review ‘Wham!’
Image courtesy of Netflix.
“Wham!” Starring Andrew Ridgeley and George Michael. Directed by Chris Smith. 1 hour, 32 minutes. Rated TV-14. Netflix.
Del’s take
“Wham!” the eponymous documentary about the British pop duo who were part of the Second British Invasion, raises as many questions about their 1986 breakup as it answers. But you’ll be hard-pressed to find a more fascinating glimpse into the ascendency of a pop music phenomenon, the music industry itself, and the uniquely strange pop scene of the 1980s.
What’s known is that Andrew Ridgeley and George Michael met as adolescents who shared a love of music. As they aged into teenagers, the two joined at least one band, a short-lived ska effort called The Executive. When that failed they created Wham! and Ridgeley began courting the record industry for a contract. He eventually landed a deal with Mark Dean of Innervision records.
They released a pair of songs – “Wham Rap (Enjoy What You Do)!” and “Club Tropicana” (which required, ahem, a fact-finding trip to the Pikes in Ibeza). Those efforts generated only lukewarm interest, but a fortuitous appearance on the BBC program “Top of the Pops,” where they performed their song “Young Guns (Go for It),” propelled the duo to greater success, and their debut album, “Fantastic,” soared to No. 1 on the UK charts.
A switch to Epic/Columbia was followed by global fame. The singles everybody knows – “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go” and “Careless Whispers” – sent their sophomore album, “Make It Big,” to No. 1 in the United States and established Wham! as an equal to bands like Culture Club and Duran Duran, two other New Wave powerhouses.
But all was not well within Wham! Depending on whom you ask, either Michael was under self-imposed pressure to succeed due to a diminished sense of worth because of his homosexuality, or he was unhappy with the pop music role assigned to Wham! by record company executives who wanted the band to keep churning out danceable earworms. Either way, Michael wanted to pursue a solo career and Ridgeley agreed to the dismantling of Wham!, which took place in 1986 after a final single and a sold-out concert at London’s Wembley Stadium.
(The documentary does not address Michael’s solo career and his death in 2016, or Ridgeley’s descent into obscurity.)
Obviously for people who came of age in the ’80s, “Wham!” the documentary will evoke nostalgic memories of those happy songs. But there’s a note of melancholy that can’t be ignored, and it mostly focuses on Ridgeley.
While you can sympathize with Michael, a gay man imprisoned in his closet by fame, your heart goes out to Ridgeley, who, according to the film, voluntarily stepped back and allowed Michael to seize the spotlight for himself. This saintly altruism strikes me as iffy, but the documentary pitches it as an act of love and sacrifice, by a friend, for a friend. Other sources point out Michael was critical of Wham! and didn’t like the shallowness of their songs. Either way, what matters is Ridgeley and Michael remained friends under circumstances that would have brought others to blows. My impression, again based on the documentary, is that Ridgeley was the prime motivator in that respect.
What’s undeniable is that “Wham!” shows what it takes to succeed in any endeavor – talent, of course, but also perseverance, hard work, and a little bit of luck. It does this through archived footage, family scrapbook clippings, vintage interviews, and entertainment news reports from that time. You’ll come away with a better understanding of Ridgeley and Michael as human beings, their obvious affection for one another, and how they grappled with their personal demons.
“Wham!” the documentary is streaming on Netflix.
I grade it an A-.
Mladen’s take
The all-consuming disinterest. I can’t overcome the indifference, Del. I grew up listening to ’80s music. Pretty much loved it all but all I needed to know then, and all I need to know now, is that A) Deborah Harry was hot and B) her untamed, naturally imperfect, and perfectly charismatic voice was exactly what Blondie needed. I don’t care about the lives of the band members who moved me in stereo or shocked me like a monkey or let me know that video killed the radio star or woke me up before they go-go-ed. All I care about is the lyrics and the music they created. You forcing me to watch “Wham!,” the biopic about Wham!, drives my distaste for biopics deeper than the Mariana Trench.
Let me be clear. If you have a favorite musician, author, actor, athlete, or some other kind of paparazzi bait, never, ever through infinity should you try to learn anything about them. Why? Because they’ll turn out to be human and humans are always disappointing. The less you know about your favorite singers, the more you’ll enjoy their music. To know anything significant about the creator of something wonderful risks ruining that something wonderful because its source, inevitably, will not be. Listen to the songs. That’s all. Why listen to me? Because I’m Your Man.
I don’t care about Andrew selflessly letting George go solo. I don’t care about George’s angst about being gay. What I care about is the ideas folks with unique talents or good fortune offer to me. Wham! offered very little to me compared to U2 in their early years or the great and mighty The Clash, who were taking shots at cruel Thatcher and her besotted Tories about the same time Wham! was wiggling their butts in short shorts at teenaged girls. But, I acknowledge that Wham! was an international phenom.
If you like Frank Sinatra, learn nothing about him. If you like the Sex Pistols, learning nothing about Sid Vicious. What should you do? Listen to the Pistols cover of Sinatra’s “My Way.” The band took “My Way,” a song dripping with brazen conceit and sung so mopey-like by Sinatra that you’re unable to recognize its arrogance, and turned into a tour de force. “My Way” by the Pistols is kinetic, brash, and undisguised. Sid and his boys tell you to fuck off because they’re better than you in every way possible. Love it because that’s the story “My Way” is supposed to tell. Learn anything about Sid and you may vomit, which may lead you to never listen to the punkers again, though, as a band, they did some crazy and provocative shit.
If you like Wham!’s trite but lyrical lyrics – all their popular songs were about personal relationships – and jaunty disco-ish melodies, do not watch “Wham!.” You’ll be disappointed. It’ll take just one scene to make you second-guess your attraction to the band and its music. Pay attention to George’s reaction when one of Wham!’s most popular songs gets stuck at No. 2 on the pop charts because another spurring famine relief in Ethiopia hits No. 1.
Yeah, just listen to the music on your Walkman because video does kill the radio stars.
Mladen Rudman is a former technical writer and newspaper reporter. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Focus Features and Universal Pictures.
“Asteroid City” Starring Jason Schwartzman as Augie Steenbeck, Scarlett Johansson as Midge Campbell, Jake Ryan as Woodrow, Grace Edwards as Dinah, Tom Hanks as Stanley Zak, Edward Norton as Conrad Earp, Bryan Cranston as Host, and others. Directed by Wes Anderson. PG-13. 1 hour, 45 minutes. Amazon Prime.
Plot summary: What is this movie about? Beats me. There’s a bunch of mini-stories unfolding. A teenage crush. Tension between a father-in-law and his dead daughter’s husband. Loss of a loved one. An actress trapped in a malaise. What does the alien want? A weird financing scheme for desert land that you can’t own even if you buy it.
Are there spoilers in this review: Yes.
Mladen’s grade: B-
Del’s grade: B
Mladen’s take
Huh.
Huh?
Both huh’s capture my inexplicable attraction to this artsy, cartoonish, mostly rambling, well‑acted film with one helluva ditty about two-thirds of the way through. I enjoyed the movie for some reason but I’m not sure y’all will, so the grade above.
“Asteroid City” has been classified as sci-fi but I ain’t so sure it belongs squarely in that genre. Yes, there’s an alien visitation and then a second one to return what was taken by the cautious and alert biped from outer space during the first layover.
Yes, there’s talk about the planet Neptune and the solar system in general.
There’s a bit of stargazing and the geek children in the movie are all brainiacs but, really, “Asteroid City” tackles human relationships, government transparency, and the commercialization of an amazing phenomenon in quirky fashion.
In this film, people are real, as are some of the sets, but there’s also a “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” or “Space Jam” vibe. The score is good. Pay attention to the dancing roadrunner as the credits roll.
Look, I’m sure the movie has a principal message or messages. Del the analyzer will find it or them. “Asteroid City” must have a purpose or purposes. Del the detective will find it or them. What I did get from the movie is the sense that the actors – adult and child alike – seemed to enjoy working with each other.
The film’s aesthetic also worked. Though cartoonish, “Asteroid City” is not childish. Though flowing from one act to the next often led to introduction of new storylines or characters, the movie isn’t disjointed.
If anything, this movie speaks to the sole merit of big bucks streamers such as Amazon Prime taking control of movie production. The decentralized system – Hollywood ain’t in control no more – of filmmaking allows experimentation. “Asteroid City,” to me, seems to be an experiment. Note, however, that the streaming services of the world are, overall, a threat to genuine filmmaking as their AIs take control of everything.
Why watch “Asteroid City”? It has something for everyone. A look at family dynamics. A look at different kinds of people interacting with each other. The control large governments, even those framed by a constitution that protects the rights of individuals, have over our individual lives. Also highlighted is that even aliens capable of interstellar travel might be motivated by the banal and bureaucratic when they visit Earth.
Del’s take
“Asteroid City” possesses charms I recognize but don’t appreciate. Therefore, writing this review will be hard. I recognize the virtues of “Asteroid City” but I don’t like “Asteroid City.” I’ve never been a Wes Anderson fan. “Rushmore” was mildly amusing, but let’s face it: I’m either way too literal or just stupid. “The Way Way Back” is more my speed.
“Asteroid City” is put together the way Christopher Nolan assembles a movie – by the most complicated route imaginable. “Asteroid City” is a frame within a frame within a frame, a play set to film, with Bryan Cranston as The Host in a modern day iteration of the ancient Greek theatrical style, and other members of the movie’s ample star-studded cast – Ed Norton and Adrien Brody – functioning as architects of the play. The story itself is a dramatic rendering of the play, and the actors are meta-aware of their roles, though never confident they’re “doing it right.”
I suppose one could say the story is about war photographer Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman) taking his son and three daughters to a kind of Space Camp-style celebration at the site of a meteorite impact where the son, Woodrow (Jake Ryan), is to receive an award and a scholarship. Once, there strange events take place, and even stranger interactions with other award-winners and their families educate all present about the nature of life and their roles in the world.
I think Mladen overestimates my powers of observation. Yes, I think there’s a coming-of-age component to the subtext, and yes, I think the story makes observations about the meaning of life and questions our beliefs about What Really Matters. But mostly what I see are wry jabs at, for instance, the military industrial complex, or the emphasis given to tech in our culture, or the almost religious and transcendent hope that somebody is out there, maybe somebody who is smarter than we and can straighten us out as a people – in other words, a Mom and Dad for the human race.
What I don’t like about “Asteroid City” is the artifice, and yes, I know, that’s a Wes Anderson trademark. But in “Asteroid City” the artifice seemed, well, artificial, as if Anderson was trying too hard, Everything about the movie was contrived, from the multiple framing devices used to tell the story to the weird, de-saturated pastel color palette and animated backgrounds; the bizarre score (composed of old Western-themed songs by Tennessee Ernie Ford and others); the strange, flat-affect delivery of dialogue; and the overall kookiness of the cast. It was too many hammers beating out of rhythm, and for me, the result was a chaotic syncopation of sight, sound and theme.
But I recognize my viewpoint is in the minority and that a great deal of skill went into the creation of “Asteroid City,” which is much loved by people who aren’t bothered by its loony artifice. I’m prepared to concede that maybe I just didn’t get it.
For that I’ll give it a grade of B. But still, for my purposes, I think “The Way Way Back” told a similar story and did it better.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Netflix.
“FUBAR” Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Monica Barbaro, Milan Carter, Gabriel Luna, Fortune Feimster, and Travis Van Winkle. Directed by Holly Dale, Steven A. Adelson, Phil Abraham, Stephen Surijik. Eight episodes. 45-59 minutes each. Rated TV-MA. Netflix.
Del’s take
“FUBAR,” the new Netflix series starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, should be funnier than it is. The problem is threefold:
1. Schwarzenegger still struggles with English, which means the sweet spot of his jokes comes and goes before he finishes bludgeoning his way through the dialogue.
2. “FUBAR” is not tightly edited, resulting in snappy comebacks that fall flat because they’re not very snappy.
3. The script provides an unending stream of cornball jokes minus the self-awareness that made shows like the 1960s classic, “Get Smart,” so hilarious.
That’s a shame because “FUBAR” could be a knee-slapper. Its central conceit – that a father and daughter are forced to work together after hiding from each other their careers as CIA operatives – offers a degree of comedic potential. Given the right creators, “FUBAR” could become an action-comedy classic. Alas, that potential is not met, at least not yet.
Schwarzenegger’s character is Luke Brunner, a longtime CIA agent who is retiring after a long and violent career of making the world safe for American corporations. He hopes to purchase a boat (“It’s a ship, not a boat,” is a running joke throughout the series) and sail the world with his ex-wife (Fabiano Udenio as Tally Brunner), a casualty of Luke’s career. But his close ties with Boro Polonia (Gabriel Luna), a Central American thug who is trying to sell a suitcase nuclear bomb to terrorists, means Luke must saddle-up for a final mission to save mankind.
When he arrives at Polonia’s jungle redoubt, Luke discovers his daughter (Monica Barbaro as Emma Brunner) is also a CIA operative who is also working the Polonia case. It is from this point “FUBAR” embarks on a silly globe-trotting adventure, in the tradition of a Dollar Tree James Bond, as father and daughter bicker about their fractured relationship and the fractured relationships of those around them while they battle the forces of evil.
Iffy special effects, naughty language and well-worn points of conflict bring a level of tedium to the journey. Emma’s constant whining about how her father was “never there” for her as a child becomes an annoying refrain by the second act of the first episode – imagine seven more episodes of the same. It’s the equivalent of a 3-year-old pitching a temper tantrum in the cereal aisle at Kroger’s.
The supporting cast offers little respite. Luke’s wise-cracking lesbian No. 2, Roo (Fortune Feimster), is more vulgar than clever, and self-described “honey-pot” entrapment guru Aldon (Travis Van Winkle) oscillates from earnest pathos to plain-old dick with no consistency. Only Luna presents the same face and to be honest, earns a degree of empathy as the boy whose father was murdered by the elder Brunner and is hellbent on making the world pay.
“FUBAR” resorts to the goofy wisecracks of Schwarzenegger’s earlier efforts, including those of a certain James Cameron cyborg (or Harlan Ellison, depending on whom you ask), but again, the loose editing draws the venom from these bites. It all comes across as shopworn and a little pathetic.
There may be a second season of “FUBAR.” If so, let’s hope new writers will endow this series with the cleverness it deserves. Schwarzenegger is capable of being funny but it’s a specialized flavor of humor, one that plays off his size, bulk, and Teutonic roots. That isn’t happening at the moment.
I grade the current iteration of “FUBAR” as a C. It’s harmless, silly fun, but it needs an injection of actual humor, and its physical production requires improvement.
Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.
Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
Today I took flowers to my mother’s and sister’s gravesite. They were both mothers and it was my duty and a pleasure to remember them.
I used a mixture of flowers from Mom’s yard blended with a dozen roses I bought at Wal-Mart. I had the foresight to bring pruning shears, water, a packet of cut-flower food, and a glass vase I found beside the road (Mom would have loved that as she was an inveterate scrounger who often found treasures others had put to the curb).
I also included a note asking other cemetery visitors to please not steal my mother’s flowers and the vase, as that has become a problem lately.
The flowers came out better than I expected – I am by no means an artist at arranging flowers. With luck it will last more than a day or two.
I also included the card I got for Mom last year. I had bought it weeks before her death and hid it in my chest-of-drawers, meaning to give it to her on Mother’s Day. I didn’t find it again until after she passed.
Mom has been gone for just over a year. I still find items around the house that make me think she’s in the living room, sleeping in the recliner as something awful plays on the TV – cage fighting, American Ninja or boxing. She loved those sports and I’ve decided that’s because they featured sweaty, shirtless men doing the things sweaty, shirtless men do.
My sister’s ashes are buried with Mom, so I left a separate bunch of flowers for her. She will have been gone a year in early July.
I hope Mom, Sandie and Mom’s friend from Spain, Judi Krozier, are living it up in a shared afterlife, and there is wine, music I wouldn’t like, some kind of Southern-fried goodness, and lots and lots of sweaty, shirtless men.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of The Avenue.
Starring Fernanda Urrejola as “Ines,” Josh Lucas as “Paul,” Venus Ariel as “Audrey,” Julio Cesar Cedillo as “Chato,” and Jorge A. Jimenez as “Junior” and others; Directed by Adrian Grunberg; Rated R; 100 minutes; Amazon Prime
Mladen’s take
Like a good movie can be ruined by one bad scene, a bad movie can be redeemed with one good bit of filmmaking. The problem with “The Black Demon” is that you must watch the mostly bad movie to the end to see that one good scene. You’ll know when you see it because the antagonist and the protagonist are calm when death arrives.
“The Black Demon” offers a duel between a big shark body armored with sturgeon-like scutes and humans of varied races and socioeconomic status. The big shark is the Aztec god Tlaloc incarnate. Come to think of it, maybe that’s also a reason I found the film good enough. The gringos in “The Black Demon” are unable to pronounce the name of the god without help from native Spanish speakers. The “Tl” in Tlaloc throws English speakers off balance. As a guy with a first name that also juxtaposes two seldom, if ever, side-to-side consonants in the English language, “Ml,” I sympathized with the villagers trying to teach Americans the correct pronunciation.
Anyway, Tlaloc, the god in shark’s clothing, appears as a deformed megalodon to avenge the destruction of a riveting sea polluted by the unchecked gush of oil from an offshore rig. Huh, a riveting sea polluted by the unchecked gush of oil from an offshore rig. Sound familiar? You’ve already forgotten the months-long British Petroleum Deepwater Horizon oil hemorrhage in 2010 that all but wrecked my beloved Gulf of Mexico, haven’t you?
Of course, the humans hunted by the black demon find themselves stranded on the oil rig without a way to communicate with shore or hope that some boater will come along to rescue them. And, there’s no way for the humans to wait for someone on land to realize they’re missing and send a search party because the rig is falling apart. Its demise is aided by Tlaloc occasionally ramming it. Oh, the shark god has some sort of telepathic power that allows it to conjure foreboding hallucinations in humans when they’re in the water.
The movie’s cheap thrills come along by placing children in harm’s way. I hate that. And, there’s always the accidental fall into the water or the decision to kill the shark by using a person as live bait and then what? Poison the multi-ton shark by pricking it in the mouth with a 5-inch-long, 25-gauge hypodermic needle? No, no, that was “Jaws.” Explode the shark with a jerry-rigged dart bomb triggered by attaching the contraption via cable to a car battery? No, that was “Deep Blue Sea.” Damn, how was the meg in “Meg” whacked?
Del will belly ache about the movie’s derivative character. He’ll complain about the mediocre CGI. All of that will come after he details to the nth minutia the history of big shark movies and their impact on pop culture, our eating habits, environmental preservation, and treatment of toenail fungus. My advice to you? See the movie because it’s good enough to be entertaining and among the better of the B-schlock films that have blazed across the big screen since pictures started moving.
Del’s take
Poor Mladen.
By the way, I pronounce that “muh-LAH-den.” As far as I know, that’s correct. I pronounce the Aztec god Tlaloc “tuh-LAL-oc.” I think that’s correct. And Mladen thinks I dwell too much on detail.
Yes, I’m a gringo who mispronounces the names of Aztec fish gods. I also recognize the role sharks play in the environment, but like many gringos who can’t pronounce the names of Aztec fish gods, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that environmental role when it means having the lower half of my body reduced to shark kibble. So I’m a fan of sharks only if they come no closer than the movie screen – speaking of which, did I mention I’m tired of movies about sharks. I mean, what are we up to now? “Jaws 47”? “Meg XXXI”? “Deep Blue Sea: The Neverending Story”?
Mladen, by making me watch “The Black Demon,” thought he was punishing me for inflicting “Chopping Mall” and “Barbie” on him. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d already seen “The Black Demon,” already noted the shitty FX, and yes, already thought it was stupid.
“The Black Demon” is a good example of the chaff Amazon Prime uses to flesh out its movie offerings. While there’s room in my heart for bad sci-fi and horror movies, that room is leavened by nostalgia. I don’t watch “The Tingler” or “The Giant Claw” for their riveting depictions of human drama. I watch them because they remind me of when I was a little kid and believed that crap could actually happen. Alas, “The Black Demon” does not evoke such happy memories. It’s the seaside version of “Maximum Overdrive.” I watched it, didn’t like it, and flushed it down the toilet, like you would that favorite swordtail you found floating belly up in your aquarium.
I mean, c’mon. The premise of “The Black Demon” is idiotic. An American petrochemical engineer takes his wife and kids on one last job in Mexico, leaves them in a town full of hostile locals, makes his way to a haunted oil rig, the wife and kids follow along, everyone except one altruistic soul are in league with the shark, and somehow they’re supposed to defeat this – this creature that’s big enough to take out an oil rig and swims faster than a speeding cigarette boat? Next you’ll be telling me Marjorie Taylor Greene has an IQ higher than a cement block.
One point on which I and the movie agree: The real villain is the corporation responsible for the leaky oil rig, in this case an outfit called “Nixon.” Get it? Nixon, so very, very subtle. Why didn’t they just call it “Satan” and be done with it? And the real black demon may not be the shark or the pissed-off fish god, but the stuff leaking from the oil rig. But somehow I doubt that much thought was put into the movie’s subtext. In fact, I don’t think there is any subtext. I think “The Black Demon” is a movie about a supernatural shark picking off people responsible for trashing the environment in and around the oil rig. Or more basically, a movie about a scary shark-like something-or-other.
I’ll grade this movie a C- because I’ve spent worse hour-and-forty-minute time spans of my life, but unless you’re a fan of modern schlock, which I’m not, then stay out of the water.
For a real shark movie check out “Blue Water, White Death,” a darned good doc from the early ’70s. They don’t make those, or schlocky B-movies, like they used to.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Paramount.
“Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves” Starring Chris Pine, Michelle Rodriguez, Justice Smith, Sophia Lillis and Hugh Grant. Directed by John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein. 2 hours, 14 minutes. Rated PG-13. Theatrical release.
Del’s take
“Honor Among Thieves” is silly, stupid, fun, and undeniably entertaining, even for an avowed hater of all things fantasy. Yet there’s little meat on the ribs of this escapist fantasy showing at a theater near you – assuming a theater near you remains in operation.
The story is about widower Edgin Darvis (Chris Pine), whose wife was killed by a vile group of conjurers known as the Red Wizards. Edgin, along with growling sidekick Holga (Michelle Rodriguez), half-baked wizard Simon (Justice Smith) and shapeshifter druid Doric (Sophia Lillis) embark on a quest to retrieve a relic that can bring back Edgin’s wife. Along the way they must free Edgin’s estranged daughter Kira (Chloe Coleman) from the clutches of Forge Fitzwilliam (Hugh Grant), a former ally who has turned traitor, and thwart the restoration of the Red Wizards, led by Sofina (Daisy Head).
It’s not as complicated as it sounds.
The journey takes them through various magical realms where they meet new friends and defeat old enemies. Talking corpses, overweight dragons, raging owlbears and magic portals make for a colorful if not eventful quest.
Humor is pervasive, which suggests “Honor Among Thieves” does not take itself that seriously. And with Chris Pine leading the campaign, how could it? Pine imbues Edgin with plenty of James Tiberious Kirk – alternating swagger and joke-cracking – as he and his merry band of adventurers tumble from one cliffhanger to the next. The movie’s standout performer is Smith as fumbling Simon, the wizard with a heart of gold. Simon pines for Doric (Lillis) and along the way discovers that with sufficient self confidence he can reasonably go toe-to-toe with a powerful mage like Sofina.
“Honor Among Thieves” closely follows the Marvel model of moviemaking – lots of action, gorgeous special effects, not much in the way of character development or world-building, and a thin plot to frame the action sequences without telling too much of a story. Entertaining, yes. Memorable? Hardly. It’s like having a Mimosa and Eggs Benedict for brunch: By mid-afternoon you’re already wondering what’s for dinner.
As quests go “Honor Among Thieves” doesn’t compare to “Lord of the Rings.” It’s like “Narnia” with dirty jokes. You’ll be entertained but a day later you won’t remember a thing.
But do see the movie in a theater if possible. Only a theater can deliver the grandeur, and the shared experience, that all movies deserve.
I give “Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves” a solid B. It was entertaining and well acted, but the story was forgettable.
Del Stone Jr. is a writer and former journalist.
Image courtesy of Raw Pixel by way of a Creative Commons license.
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Mohamed Mahmoud Hassan through Public Domain Pictures.
When you are no longer able to say what you think, you are no longer free.
Florida is not free.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Author by Nick Youngson CC BY-SA 3.0 Pix4free
I don’t consider myself a “writer.”
I’ve been published professionally, yes. But I’ve never had an agent. I’ve never written a full-length novel. I’ve never done a book tour or appeared on a radio or TV show to flog my books. I’ve never had a story made into a movie.
I’ve come close to those things a few times so maybe that makes me a “near-writer.”
Anyway, over the years I’ve picked up on a few things and while I am by no means an expert, I can provide you with some of the general guidelines for becoming a published writer.
In no particular order, here they are!
Del’s tips on becoming a writer
1. Anyone who puts pen to paper is a writer. The question is, do you want to write for yourself or your family members and friends, or do you want to write for everyone? If everyone is your answer, then you want to become a professional writer, one who gets paid for his or her work.
2. Read books. Every writer I know is a reader. By reading you will become comfortable with the written word and the narrative process. You’ll also discover reading benefits you in other ways – it sharpens your focus, improves your problem-solving and critical-thinking skills, improves your vocabulary, reduces your stress, and broadens your mind.
3. Read quality books. This is not to say you can’t read that trashy pot-boiler, but do make time for the classics, and as you read, pay attention to how the author does things. Notice how he or she transitions from one scene to the next, maintains viewpoint, manages pacing, and uses word choices and syntax to help flesh out characters.
4. Never ask another writer for a critique of your work. This is a path to uncertainty and heartache. Other writers can tell you only one thing: How they would have written the book. If you want a critique, ask an editor. An editor is the person who will decide if the book is published, and their opinion is the only one that matters.
5. Beware the word “that.” Always, always look at that word (see what I did there?) and ask yourself if the sentence makes sense without it. If it does, delete.
6. Take a look at every word ending in “ly.” If the sentence can do without it, delete. What I’m getting at here is that many adverbs end in “ly” and adverbs are the death of prose.
7. Slay your little darlings. Too many times I have been hamstrung by stories in which I refused to cut certain parts because I loved them so much, but they created so damn many problems that I couldn’t finish the story. The solution: Delete.
8. Use semicolons sparingly and correctly. A semicolon joins two independent clauses. If each clause can stand on its own as a sentence, but for some reason must be joined with the next, use a semicolon. Otherwise it’s a comma or period.
9. Buy a copy of The Writer’s Market. This book is published each year and is available at your local bookstore or online in the reference book section. It is a compendium of all markets, magazine and book publishers, and the content they want, their contact information, word lengths, etc. It is an indispensible aid to the writer who wants to sell his or her work.
10. The Writer’s Market is published by Writer’s Digest Books, which also publishes many similar books. One of them is The Guide to Literary Agents. It is a listing of agents and their contact information. The process of obtaining an agent is even more daunting than getting a book published. I recommend you read this book before starting your hunt for literary stardom.
11. Colons can be used to introduce a list, or a significant single subject. They must be used correctly. One error I often see: the issue of capitalization. If a complete sentence follows the colon then the first letter of the first word must be capitalized. Otherwise it’s lowercase.
12. If your intent is to become a professional writer then you must submit. Don’t leave that manuscript collecting digital dust in your laptop. Send it somewhere. Which leads me to. …
13. Rejection. Lucky how I saved that for No. 13, right? Rejection is the writer’s boogeyman but it needn’t be so. A thick skin is a mandatory prerequisite to becoming a professional writer. All professional writers must remember that writing is one part art, another part business. Rejection falls into the business category. You absolutely, positively must remember that a magazine or a book publisher is a business whose sole purpose is to make money. When an editor reads your story, he or she is not just evaluating it in terms of artistic merit. They are also asking themselves if your story will help sell their product. The process of making this decision is entirely subjective. A rejection does not necessarily mean your story lacks merit. Maybe it’s not consistent with the other content the editor has chosen for the next edition. Maybe the editor doesn’t like stories about werewolves. Or maybe the editor had the veggie lasagna for lunch and it isn’t sitting in his stomach just right and he doesn’t feel well. Which leads me to item No. 14.
14. When to rewrite? If 20 editors reject a story then yes, you could safely assume it’s got problems and a rewrite is in order. Did any of those rejecting editors give you feedback? If so, you might take what they said into consideration. Or, you might just shelve the story as a bad seed. It’s your call.
15. Speaking of which, you can’t believe how significant it is for an editor to give you feedback. Most editors are swamped with submissions and don’t have time for a handwritten note. If one of them takes the time to provide you with a handwritten note, you should be very excited. That means something – good! If you want to sell them your story, change it as per their suggestions and resubmit. That happened on my very first freelance sale.
16. On the other hand, if you love a story exactly the way it is and are unwilling to change it, stick to your guns. But be prepared for it not to sell. Sometimes they do. I once had a story I submitted 55 times, and it was rejected 55 times. After that you’d think I’d take the hint and rewrite it, but I didn’t. I loved that story and I was determined to find a home for it. On the 56th submission it sold to Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. So there.
17. What is pacing? It’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s the speed at which a scene or a story unravels. Some stories require a slow, subtle revelation of the plot. Others are action-packed and need to unfold quickly and with high energy. Doing either of these is not just a matter of throwing scenes at the reader, or withholding them. You can also use syntax to amplify the pacing. For instance, if you want to bring the action in a story to a halt, use a short, blunt sentence.
Like this.
If you want to speed things up use a run-on sentence with lots of coordinating conjunctions to convey a sense of breathlessness and action.
Those two techniques are examples of using syntax to buttress your storytelling.
18. We’ve been told since we were kids we should never judge a book by its cover, but covers are important and I often do let them influence me to the extent that a book with a cool cover will get picked up off the shelf and looked at, opposed to a book with a bland cover, which will remain on the shelf. So advocate for the coolest of covers you can get!
19. The fundamentals of a story are these: A. The beginning. B. The Middle. C. The end. You’re thinking, “That Del guy sure is an ass.” Hold your fire. I may be an ass about some things but not this. You’d be surprised how many writers don’t remember those three basic building blocks of a story. Let me put it this way: A. You have a character who’s trying to solve a problem (the beginning). B. He or she tries to solve that problem and fails, resulting in complications (the middle). C. The character solves the problem, and the solution falls within the context of the story (the end).
20. Viewpoint: Viewpoint is the point of view from which the story is told. Sometimes that’s a person. Sometimes it’s something called third person omniscient, meaning the narrator is not one of the characters but an entity floating above the action, seeing everything. This would be an example of third person omniscient: “Bobby walked into the room, saw Carolyn, and felt his bile rise.” It’s important to maintain viewpoint. Don’t switch between characters, unless a new scene is hard-starting (meaning there’s some kind of physical break in the prose, like a new chapter heading, or a dividing mechanism).
21. Vocabulary of characters: Make sure your characters use the language of a character like that person. You won’t find many farmers talking about Kant or Nietsche.
22. Transitions and references for dialogue. Beginning writers make a mistake in describing how characters are talking. They’ll avoid using the word “said” and go for something more colorful, like “preached,” “cried,” “rhapsodized” and so on. Ninety percent of the time, “said” is just fine. Try for something else and it starts to become comical.
23. Show, don’t tell. Don’t tell people what’s happening. “Bobby got mad.” Show people what’s happening. “Bobby’s face turned purple and you could see a vein throbbing in his forehead.”
24. Infodump. At some point in a story you’ll be tempted to provide the reader with an explanation of what’s been happening, or why. This is called an “infodump.” A short infodump is OK but a long infodump slows the action and buggers up the pacing. Better to reveal that information in drips and drabs through the story.
25. Where do writers get their ideas? They get them from their everyday lives. The trick is recognizing when something that has happened to you can be sufficiently embellished to make for a good story. Carry a small notebook and something to write with so that when a brainstorm occurs during your day, you can write it down and won’t forget it. I promise, if you don’t write it down, you will forget it.
26. It pays to be persistent. The difference between writers and people who hope to become a writer is this: Writers write. They do it every day, regardless of what’s happening around them. Sometimes they’ll write only a paragraph or two; other times, they’ll get several pages done. But they sit their backsides behind the keyboard and write. You do the same.
27. Write what you know. There’s nothing that exposes a new and unpolished writer more quickly than when he or she tries to write about something with which they aren’t familiar. Write about the things you know how to do, the places you’ve seen with your own eyes, and the emotions you have felt. Your writing will come across to the reader as much more authentic and empathetic.
28. Write what you love. Writing is a lonely business, and it is mostly an unappreciated business. It can be isolating and unrewarding financially. If you’re going to do it, you might as well do the kind of writing, and write about the subjects, that you absolutely love. When you love what you’re writing it will show – PLUS you’ll enjoy yourself a whole lot more.
Author by Nick Youngson CC BY-SA 3.0 Pix4free
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Universal Studios.
“Knock at the Cabin” Starring Dave Bautista, Jonathan Groff, Ben Aldridge, Rupert Grint, Kristin Cui and others. Directed by M. Night Shyamalan. 1 hour, 40 minutes. Rated R. In theatrical release.
Del’s take
I’m not a fan of M. Night Shyamalan. His stories begin with promise but falter, and by movie’s end I’m feeling robbed of my ticket cost. “Knock at the Cabin” may or may not be one of those movies. I’m undecided. Look at it one way and it’s a good comment on a current problem. Look at it another way and it’s an infuriating concession to another current problem.
“Knock at the Cabin” is based on the Paul Tremblay novel “Cabin at the End of the World,” a much cooler title if you ask me. A gay couple and their adopted daughter spend a weekend at a cabin in the woods and are set upon by four religious cultists who force them to make a choice – sacrifice a member of their family or the world will be destroyed in an apocalypse.
The movie kinda-sorta follows the novel until the last act, when Shyamalan opts for a standard-issue horror movie ending. If I were Tremblay I’d be disappointed but I’ll bet he isn’t. To have your book rendered into a movie by a big-name Hollywood director … well, that’s something, despite the flaws.
The talent is terrific, and let me say right up front that Dave Bautista is amazing. He steals the show. Kristin Cui as the adopted daughter, and Ben Aldridge as the moral compass of the gay couple, are also terrific. Even Rupert Grint does a passable job with American English.
You can look at “Knock at the Cabin” a couple of different ways. As an indictment of the introjected homophobia our culture inflicts on each of us, it’s pretty darn effective. Toward the end Aldridge delivers a soliloquy that sums up the gay point of view on that subject.
Look at it another way, however, and “Knock at the Cabin” suggests there’s something to the conspiracy theories and fear-mongering division perpetrated by QAnon-like fringe element freaks and extremist Republican imbeciles, and in that capacity it provides a horrible disservice to any attempt to inject reason into that conversation.
I haven’t decided which it is. I will say a day or two after watching it I’ve been left with only one strong impression – Bautista is a damn good actor. Everything else was forgettable.
I rate “Knock at the Cabin” a C+. It’s one of Shyamalan’s middling efforts, and the title sucks. At worst it’s a validation of all the kooks and crazies who have made this country the laughingstock of the world.
Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.