Saturday, March 28, 2009

Grumbly 100th, Nelson!

Today marks the 100th anniversary of the birth of writer Nelson Algren, author of The Man With the Golden Arm and A Walk on the Wild Side, two of the 20th century's top noir novels (Clicking on the above link will take you to the page of the Nelson Algren Committee, which features a booking photo of the author. That's not a guy who has a "happy" birthday).

Though born in Detroit, Algren grew up in Chicago and set Golden Arm in the seedy neighborhoods and taverns amongst which he grew up. His book Chicago: City on the Make also explored those areas and the people who lived there in ways that made no friends at the Chamber of Commerce. Golden Arm told the story of Frankie Machine, a morphine addict who was also an amazing poker dealer. The movie version, directed by Otto Preminger, earned Frank Sinatra an Oscar nomination. Algren hated it and sued Preminger for changing the story.

Walk, published in 1956, follows drifter Dove Linkhorn from Texas to New Orleans and back, wading through a sea of pimps, hookers and other assorted undesirables. It opens with a description of Dove's father Fitz, a man whose belief that someone somewhere was cheating him was so ingrained that he "felt that every daybreak duped him into waking and every evening conned him into sleep." An apter description of some people who feel the world owes them something that it's not giving them I've yet to read.

What often fascinated Algren was how people who had little or nothing -- and for whom a whole lot of what they had was poisoned -- tried to retain some sense of their own humanity as they scratched and fought for the means to continue their spare and even sordid existence. He seemed much less interested in why folks with everything sometimes went bad and far more interested in why folks with nothing sometimes kept trying to be good, and he used his novels to try to call attention to the attempts, shredded or otherwise, of those living in what he called "the neon wilderness" to live with some level of dignity, compassion and love. More than one Old Testament prophet might have been able to read Algren with understanding. And us folks who also use the New Testament of our Bibles might find frequent mentions of a fella who kept reminding us that the least, the last and the lost have a place in God's heart as well.

Unfortunately for Algren, Walk was a close look at things that lots of people of the time didn't want to take much of a close look at. Reviews bashed the novel and the adoration that came to him following Golden Arm turned to disgust and then oblivion. He kept writing, but without much impact. An affair with Simone de Beauvoir led to repeated frustration and loneliness, as earlier affiliations with the Communist Party prevented Algren from getting a passport and living with her in France as he wished. After moving to New Jersey in 1975 and Long Island in 1980, Algren died of a heart attack in 1981. This was well before a re-examination of his work gained him some approval and before the trend of "anniversary editions" of books could have offered him some renewed approval.

But it's likely that he wouldn't have found a lot of approval in a society that gushes oceans of ink, virtual and otherwise, over the lives and loves of actors, actresses and their bizarre homunculi, "reality show" stars. Or that folks who spend hours talking, writing and reading about people who've done nothing more than be the result of successful fertilization by properly wealthy sperm and ova and whose behavior would shame a cat in heat would care much about people who make less money, show less skin and have more sense.

Though the Nelson Algren Committee has been successful in getting his apartment named as an historical site, having the Nelson Algren Fountain built and in seeing all of his novels and short story collections come back into print, one of the honors the city of Chicago tried to give Algren didn't pan out. Evergreen Street was re-named Algren Street in his memory in 1981, but when the residents complained, the city changed the name back. Algren would probably have appreciated the fuss.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

This Is the Way the Show Ends...

Not with a bang or a whimper -- more like a clunk. We'll be reviewing the series finale of Battlestar Galactica here, so anyone who hasn't seen it and doesn't want to be spoiled should stop reading now.

Starting with a miniseries in 2003, Ronald Moore's reimagined Battlestar Galactica grabbed and repelled fans of the original series and science fiction in general. The 1978-79 show starring Lorne Greene, Richard Hatch and Dirk Benedict sometimes made it to the level of entertaining camp, but spent a lot of time being silly without seeming to realize it. Moore, not saddled with the original's need to milk the Star Wars crowd for viewers, got rid of the flashing lasers, evil emperor-styled thrones and cute furry robot-dog and went for a good deal more realism in terms of the military angle. He also added quite a bit of philosophical layering to the show, which raised questions about what it meant to be human. And he used his different characters to explore a range of theological issues unusual for television, not to mention unusual for the Sci-Fi Channel, home of "Sci-Fi Original" movies like Flu Bird Horror and Alien Apocalypse.

Moore used the basic story from the earlier series. A scientist named Baltar betrayed humanity to the Cylons, artificial life forms who then nearly wiped out humanity in a sneak attack on its Twelve Colonies. The last warship, the battlestar Galactica, collects a few other ships and about forty thousand people and seeks a way to escape the Cylons. They search for a mythical lost planet, home to the 13th tribe of humanity, known as Earth.

But Moore added some touches to give the story depth. Humans had created the Cylons, who rebelled against their makers in an earlier war. The Cylons had also developed models that duplicated human beings down to the cellular level, who moved among the human population unsuspected by their enemies. He gave Galactica much more of a submarine claustrophobia atmosphere than the shiny Star Wars set it resembled in 1978.

Over the course of the show, human beings tried to learn the location of Kobol, the ancient origin world, to see how to find Earth. The civilian government, led by President Laura Roslin, was at times on the side of as well as opposed to the military leadership of Commander and later Admiral William Adama. Fighter pilots like Lee "Apollo" Adama and Kara "Starbuck" Thrace played roles in both the military story and character and plot development of the show. Cylons were found in the very midst of the ship's crew -- no one could assume they were safe. And in the middle of all this was Gaius Baltar, the scientist who had given defense computer codes to a woman he thought was a corporate spy but who turned out to be a Cylon. Baltar's treachery was never discovered, and at times he was a political and religious leader while almost constantly haunted by a vision of the Cylon lover to whom he had given the key to humanity's defenses.

Recently, Galactica found Earth, but realized it had been destroyed many years ago. Humans found themselves actually allied with Cylons, some of whom had split from their main group following a civil war. The search for a permanent home was complicated by distrust of the new allies, an abortive mutiny and political coup, and the mystery surrounding Starbuck, who had disappeared while exploring a mysterious planet and then reappeared with the directions to Earth.

So we wind down to the last episode. I've read some responses that suggest it was brilliant and others that it stunk. I personally think it was not bad, but it had a lot of things that go clunk! in it.

The "rag-tag fugitive fleet" finds the planet we call Earth, only we learn that the entire series has taken place about a 150,000 years ago. The humans on the Earth they find are primitive, barely able to use tools. At first they plan on settling and living like they did on their own worlds, but Lee Adama argues they should leave all of their technological trappings behind and make a new start in this new world. Everyone agrees, and we see the characters start to settle in on this new world, which they will call Earth because it represents the dream they have had since the beginning. Laura Roslin, suffering from cancer since the show began, finally dies while flying with the man who has come to love her, Admiral Adama. Starbuck, now knowing she was some kind of ghost or angelic messenger of the god the show frequently refers to, disappears, leaving Lee Adama talking to himself. Baltar and the resurrected version of the Cylon to whom he betrayed all of humanity plan to begin a life of farming together. And so on. The angelic messenger version of this Cylon and Baltar himself show up again to tsk-tsk how human beings some 150,000 years later (our day) are once again trying to create artificial life and intelligence.

We do get a great money shot of the fleet moving slowly towards its destruction in the sun, arranged the way they were in the opening credits of the original series, with Glen Larson's original theme in the background.

So five years of show winds up as an eco-fable, which is silly but doesn't take away all of the great work that Moore, his writers and his cast have done. At least the dumb idea of getting rid of all the technology comes from Lee Adama, easily one of the least likable characters on the show other than Baltar and the chief Cylon villain, Cavil.

Plan to move in with a human population that has its own indigenous diseases and such without taking your modern immunization with you to protect them and you? Clunk!

Figure on developing agriculture all over again without benefit of modern tools or anything to make the agricultural implements needed to do that? Clunk!

Tory Foster's airlocking of Cally Henderson earns her a broken neck at the hands of Henderson's husband Galen Tyrol, but Baltar's complete betrayal of humanity, selling out the humans to the Cylons on the attempted settlement at New Caprica and collaboration with the Cylon regime that included signing execution warrants earns him...happily ever after with his Cylon babe? Clunk!

Human/Cylon hybrid child Hera is the potential savior of the human race as well as the Cylons, but she ends up being nothing special to the immediate survivors who settle on Earth. The Baltar and Cylon angelic messengers suggest that a news story about finding a genetic ancestor to all human beings, who is sometimes called "Mitochondrial Eve" or MRCA (Most Recent Common Ancestor) refers to Hera. Unfortunately, since the theory of the MRCA debuted in the late 1980s, developments in molecular science and DNA research have called it into question. Clunk!

In any event, though the show ending didn't live up to the promise of the first two or three seasons, I've had a whole lot of fun watching it and thinking about it. I've appreciated the fact that a TV show didn't shy away from asking questions about God and depicting characters whose religious faith strengthened them and fueled their hope, rather than some sort of serial killer psychosis. So safe voyage, Galactica. Thanks for the ride.