Visualizing Mid-World: An Intro to the Dark Tower Comics

I’ve never been much of a comic book reader. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of comic books I owned in the first 3+ decades of my life (unless you count Mad Magazine). While many of my childhood peers were reading comic books, I was more likely to have my head buried in a novel. I’ve never had anything against comics; I just never got into them, which was kind of odd considering how big a fan I was (and still am) of TV shows and films based on comics. They basically circled the periphery of my existence without ever making landfall.

But that changed when Stephen King licensed Marvel to tell a new series of stories from his Dark Tower universe in comic book format. As a huge fan of all things that serve the Beam (Dark Tower reference, look it up), I had to check these out. I waited until each series of issues was available as a collection in snazzy hardcover format and snatched them up. The series, released in five volumes, is very well done, with impressive imagery that brings the world of the novels to life. My only complaint about the comics is that I wish they were longer, but I think that’s to be expected as a comic newbie who is used to reading lengthy novels.

In the following paragraphs you will find mini-reviews of the five volumes. I stayed mostly spoiler-free, but the reviews assume that the reader has already read the novels and knows the back story that’s being told here. If you haven’t read the books but plan on doing so, I would recommend holding off on the comics until you have gotten through at least the fourth book of the Dark Tower series.

The first volume in the series, The Gunslinger Born, is taken from my favorite novel in the Dark Tower series, Wizard and Glass.  It was great to revisit that story and see the world of Roland’s youth brought to life via the striking images on the pages. However, as stated above, I would not recommend this to those who have not yet read the Dark Tower books, for while this volume does a nice job of capturing the tone of King’s books, it basically reads like a greatest hits version of Wizard and Glass (which is understandable given that book’s length). The result is that much of the depth and emotional impact gets lost, particularly with the tragic ending that in this version felt rushed. That being said, it’s definitely recommended for fans of Wizard and Glass wishing to re-experience that story in a different medium, as well as for Dark Tower completionists.

The next volume, The Long Road Home, is the first of the ‘new’ stories (i.e., material that was only hinted at in King’s books). It picks up immediately after the events of The Gunslinger Born, depicting the journey home to the city of Gilead as Roland’s friends attempt to free his consciousness from the magical sphere known as Maerlyn’s Grapefruit. This is followed by Treachery, which deals with the intrigue and duplicity infecting Gilead upon Roland’s return, while also fleshing out the tragic story of his mother that was briefly touched on in the novels. Both volumes are worthy additions to the Dark Tower saga.

In The Fall Of Gilead, the s**t really starts to hit the fan. It’s hard to say too much without giving away spoilers, but anyone familiar with the Dark Tower series already knows that it does not end well for the protagonists. However, knowing what’s coming doesn’t lessen the heartbreaking impact of the events that unfold. Some people complained that the art was not as good in this volume, but I am not enough of a comic book afficionado to speak to the artwork, so I’ll leave that for others to judge. My primary interest is the story, and this may have been my favorite of the five volumes.

The final volume, The Battle of Jericho Hill, is the story that Dark Tower fanatics have been waiting for: the tragic end of Roland’s ka-tet at the hands of the Good Man’s army on Jericho Hill, and it certainly delivers on the tragedy. It does seem to happen rather quickly, though, leading you to wish for a longer format to tell this story, but it does an admirable job within these constraints.

Following the release of this series, Marvel embarked upon a new series that tells the story of the Dark Tower from book one, beginning with The Gunslinger: The Journey Begins. I haven’t yet decided whether to get these since they won’t be adding anything new to the canon, but I probably will because the hardcover compilations make great collectibles and it’s always a treat to see talented artists bring the books to life. Besides, with Ron Howard’s ambitiously conceived Film/TV project falling through, it’s looking less likely that we will see the Dark Tower series brought to the screen anytime soon, so these comics are the best we’re going to get.  And what better way to pass the time between now and the April release of The Wind Through the Keyhole?

Van Hategar

So Van Halen has released a new album with David Lee Roth–and fans everywhere rejoice. The ring has been cast into the fiery depths of Mt. Doom, the Death Star has been destroyed, and the evil Hagar beast has been vanquished. All is now right with the world.

Van Halen fans (the true ones, not those pesky fans of the Hagar years) are thrilled that the real band is back together (conveniently overlooking the exclusion of Michael Anthony, whose contributions to the Van Halen sound, particularly with harmonies, was underrated). I have heard the new album and I just have to say: meh. Sure, it does sound like vintage Van Halen, but more than anything it has a “been there, done that” feeling to it. It doesn’t really add anything new to the Van Halen legacy.

And therein lies the problem with the revisionist historians who revile Sammy Hagar as the man who ruined Van Halen. “He made them go soft,” the detractors say. The fact is that the band was already headed in a less guitar-driven direction anyway–Eddie Van Halen’s growing love affair with keyboards began long before Hagar joined the band–for proof just listen to 1984 again. There is nothing wrong with this. A band needs to evolve. If it keeps releasing the same material over and over again it eventually becomes an imitation of itself and fans lose interest. At the time of Roth’s departure, the band had pretty much gone as far as they could with him. It was obvious that Eddie wanted to expand his music into areas that Roth was either unwilling to go or that were beyond his capabilities as a performer. Van Halen didn’t change because Roth left. On the contrary, Roth’s departure freed them to embrace the new avenues they had already begun to explore.

Case in point: Love Walks In. Yeah, yeah, I know that this song is reviled among Roth fans as indicative of everything that was wrong with the Hagar years (though I happen to think it’s a great rock ballad). I’m pretty sure I recall reading that this song was written by Eddie. So if you want to blame someone for it, blame him. Did Hagar’s presence possibly lead Eddie to write the song? Perhaps. He would never have written the song for Roth to sing because Roth does not possess the range to sing it. You can hate Hagar’s voice all you want, but you cannot deny that he brought with him a greater vocal range that enabled the band to write songs with greater nuance and variety than they had in the past, and his ability to play lead guitar allowed Eddie to add more keyboard texture to his songs with the knowledge that they could be performed live.

I don’t think this made them soft, just different, but they were still Van Halen.  Why Can’t This Be Love sounds like a song that could have felt at home on 1984 next to Jump. It’s not as if they became a ballad band ala Chicago in its later years. Songs like Best of Both WorldsBlack and BluePoundcake, and Humans Being still rocked.

But lest you think this is a pro-Hagar, anti-Roth piece, I want to assure you that it’s not. I happen to like both incarnations of the band. In my opinion both front men made great contributions to their particular eras. In fact, I find the whole Roth versus Hagar argument rather passe. It’s just like the Star Wars versus Star Trek debate. Why isn’t it possible to like both? I recognize that there are people who truly hated the Hagar years, and I respect their opinions, but I think the number of haters has grown over the years as it has become more fashionable to bash that era. I believe the majority of these new haters are not being honest with themselves. How else to explain Van Halen’s enormous popularity during the Hagar years? Those were not just new fans. There were plenty of Roth holdovers who thought 5150 and OU812 were very good albums when they came out.

So if you are among those who always hated the Hagar years, I’m okay with that, and I’m not here to change your mind. But if you enjoyed the Hagar years when you were younger, it’s okay to admit it, you don’t need to hide anymore. As Obi Wan Kenobi might say, “Trust your feelings.” Those years weren’t so bad.

The Man in Black fled across the desert, and Ron Howard directed…

Rejoice, Constant Readers.  At long last, Stephen King’s epic saga, The Dark Tower, is making the leap to the big screen, directed by Opie Cunningham himself, Ron Howard.  For those who don’t know, The Dark Tower is King’s magnum opus, the nexus of his entire body of work, with references to the Dark Tower sprinkled throughout the majority of his novels.  The task of adapting this behemoth to the screen (seven books clocking in at over a million words, not to mention several ancillary stories that may become part of the films) is going to make The Lord of the Rings look like a one-act play.

Many fans have heaped scorn upon the choice of Howard to direct (I guess they were hoping for Peter Jackson, Guillermo del Toro, or someone of that ilk).  I, for one, will withhold judgment until I see the final product.  Howard has made many solid films over the years, and for what it’s worth, he seems to have a deep passion for the project (he worked on it for a year before even presenting the idea to Stephen King)—and there is no way that King would let his baby go unless he was confident that Howard was going to do his books justice.  This is not Maximum Overdrive or ChristineThe Dark Tower is the center of King’s entire literary universe, and he would not hand over the rights lightly.

The doubters claim that Howard’s body of work leaves no indication that he is capable of taking on a project like this, but was Peter Jackson in a much different position before he began work on Lord of the Rings?  And we all know how that turned out.  I’m intrigued by the way Howard has chosen to approach the material: a movie trilogy sandwiched around two television series that bridge the three films.  Such a concept is unprecedented in cinematic history; it will be interesting to see how it all shakes out.  It certainly gives the filmmakers latitude to flesh out more of the story than a strict film series would have provided.  I wonder, though, how much of the source material will need to be censored in the television series.  It would seem to be better suited for a premium channel, but then how many fans would follow it?  On the other hand, there have been a few network television miniseries over the years that have done a credible job with King’s work, so perhaps this can work as well.

The most important element of the production is going be the selection of the actor to play series protagonist Roland Deschain, a gunslinger in much the same vein as Clint Eastwood’s character from Sergio Leone’s classic series of spaghetti westerns, with a little bit of Arthurian regalness mixed in.  Howard has offered this critical part to Javier Bardem (I have to admit that I have trouble seeing him in this role, but he is an outstanding actor, so I will place my faith in Howard’s judgment).  At this point Bardem has yet to accept and there’s no guarantee that he will, for he would be required to commit a huge chunk of the next decade of his life to a single character on both the big and small screen—how many A-list actors would be willing to do that?  It could be that we end up with a relative unknown in the role, which might actually be preferable.

Regardless of the choices Howard makes as the project moves forward (and their inevitable dissection by the fan base), I look forward with great excitement to those first moments on the big screen when the Man in Black flees across the desert with the Gunslinger in hot pursuit.  And to borrow a phrase from the High Speech of Roland’s hometown of Gilead, I say thankee-sai.

Oh No, Not Another Year-End Countdown…

It’s the time of year when entertainment writers around the country begin publishing their “best of” lists for the year, so I’ve decided to throw my hat into the ring with a list of my favorite new shows of 2010.  Notice that I say “favorite” rather than “best of.”  I cannot do a proper “best of” list without having seen every single new show that debuted in 2010, so if one of your favorite new shows is not on this list, chances are that I haven’t seen it.

There are a few interesting things to note about this list, not the least of which is that three of my top five shows (Caprica, Rubicon, Terriers) have already been canceled, while a fourth (The Event) probably won’t make it to a second season, a trend that does not bode well for quality programming on television.  Another thing that stands out about this list is that only two of the shows are on network television (and only one on a “big-three” network), a testament to the fact that most of the best TV can now be found on cable channels like AMC, FX, and USA.

A few other interesting tidbits: only half of these shows debuted in the fall, none of them are sitcoms (unless you count Ugly Americans), and none of them are reality shows (you will never find a reality show in any “best of” list of mine, but that’s a story for another article).
So, without further ado, here are my ten favorite new shows of the year.  In parentheses are the time of year they debuted and the channel where you can find them.

10.  Ugly Americans (Spring, Comedy Central)
This half-hour cartoon fits right in with Comedy Central’s late night lineup.  The premise of the show is an alternate New York where monsters are integrated into society.  The main character, Mark, works for the Department of Integration as a support group counselor for monsters, has a zombie roommate who often winds up losing parts of his body, and a half-demon girlfriend with a tendency to flip out, hell-style.  Though the gags can be hit or miss, the hits are often hysterical, and the Manbird episode was one of the funniest things I’ve seen this year.

9.  Covert Affairs (Summer, USA)
The first of two spy dramas on the list, this started out as one of those guilty pleasure shows that got better with each episode.  I almost didn’t watch it because early reviews tagged it as a pale imitation of Alias (one of my favorite shows).  This show is definitely not on an Alias level, but it is more grounded in reality (i.e. no Rambaldi mythology), so it has been able to carve its own niche.  The always watchable Piper Perabo is surrounded by a strong supporting cast, making this a good hour of escapist entertainment.

8.  Nikita (Fall, WB)
The other spy show on my list could have gone wrong in so many ways trying to build another series around the classic La Femme Nikita, but rather than retreading or rebooting the film, the creators chose to set the series after the events of the film with a little twist: Nikita’s lover was murdered by Division and she has made it her life’s work to bring them down.  To help her, she has placed a mole inside Division as a recruit, enabling her to stay a step ahead of the organization in a weekly game of cat and mouse.  This series is a little weightier than Covert Affairs (a significant death has already occurred), and a strong cast led by Maggie Q make this a solid hour of television.

7.  The Event (Fall, NBC)
The Event is one of those mythology shows that require you to pay attention on a weekly basis, ala Lost or Fringe.  While not in the same league as those two stellar shows, it nevertheless succeeds in pulling you into the story and making you wonder about the nature of the “guests.”  Are they aliens?  Time travelers?  Something else?  Who are the people behind the attempt to kill the president and why?  Unfortunately, NBC has done the show no favors by placing it on a long winter hiatus—this is normally a death sentence for a serialized drama (i.e. Jericho, Flash Forward) because many viewers never return.  I have a feeling that the run of episodes scheduled to air in late February will be the show’s last.

6.  Justified (Spring, FX)
This series was made for Timothy Olyphant.  If you were one of the many to lament the loss of his Seth Bullock character when Deadwood was canceled, this is the show for you.  Olyphant’s Raylan Givens is arguably the most bad-ass character on television.  The series is essentially a modern day western set in Kentucky.  Raylan is a U.S. Marshal reassigned from Miami to the district covering his hometown due to what his bosses believe is a tendency to be quick on the trigger.  Back in his hometown, Raylan must deal not only with criminals, but also with his estranged ex-con father, his ex-wife, and a witness with whom he begins an affair.  The best relationship, however, is between Raylan and Boyd Crowder (played by the excellent Walton Goggins), a childhood friend who grew up to be a criminal.  Their confrontation in the series premiere has consequences that last throughout the first season.  The second season begins in January; you should check it out.

5.  Caprica (Winter, Syfy)
This Battlestar Galactica (BSG) spinoff was a victim of Syfy’s seemingly decreasing tolerance for serialized science fiction (see Stargate Universe, the latest casualty of this unfortunate trend) in favor of lighter fare like Eureka and Warehouse 13.  Don’t get me wrong, both of the latter are very enjoyable shows, but I prefer some weight to my sci-fi, and Caprica delivered the goods.  Admittedly, the series started off slow and likely alienated many BSG fans expecting something more action-oriented, but, much like a Joss Whedon or JJ Abrams series, it got better as it progressed and rewarded viewers who stuck around.  Caprica explored weighty subjects like religious fanaticism, terrorism, racism, coping with tragic loss, and the dehumanization of a technologically advanced society, not to mention depicting the origin of cylons and laying the seeds for the eventual downfall of humanity.  One of the coolest scenes happened late in the series when a prototype cylon was used by a mobster to annihilate his enemies before uttering the familiar phrase, “By your command,” in the well-known cylon voice from the original series.  The show would likely have gotten even better from there as it moved closer to the rise of the cylons, but alas, we’ll never know.  Fortunately, Syfy will be burning off the remaining five unaired episodes in a marathon on January 4th.  I, for one, will be watching.  Even knowing that the series is not coming back, it will be worth it.

4.  Rubicon (Summer, AMC)
Rubicon was one of the more cerebral shows that I’ve seen on television, with a dense, labyrinthine plot—a thinking man’s drama about an analyst for a government think tank who uncovers a vast conspiracy during his investigation into a mentor’s death.  Unfortunately, in this age of instant gratification television, Rubicon may have been too smart for its own good.  It was the type of series that, had you missed an episode, it would have been very difficult to figure out what was going on.  It was also largely devoid of action, which turned off many viewers (the lack of promotion by AMC in comparison to its other shows didn’t help, either).  Rubicon may have been mostly dialogue-oriented, but that just served to make the few scenes of action more fierce and jarring than they otherwise would have been.  This show made many critics’ year-end top-ten lists, and rightly so.

3.  The Walking Dead (Fall, FX)
This has the potential to be the best show on television.  The main reason it didn’t rank higher for me was the small sample (only six episodes in the first season).  However, The Walking Dead provided more quality television in those six episodes than most shows accomplish in a year.  I was originally just moderately intrigued when I first heard about the series, but when I discovered that Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile) was heavily involved (writing and directing the first episode), I became very excited to see it—and it more than lived up to the hype.  If you haven’t watched it because you’re not a big zombie fan, I urge you to give it a shot.  It’s really more of a morality/survival drama that just happens to have zombies in it.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of gore in keeping with the zombie genre (the episode titled “Guts” is … well, it’s in the title), but overall the show is about the relationships and conflicts among a group of people who have survived an apocalypse, and the choices they must make to stay alive.  Television doesn’t get much better than this.

2.  Terriers (Fall, FX)
Terriers was the most pleasant surprise (and most disappointing cancellation) of the entire year.  This unheralded show quickly became must-see TV (for me and the other two people in the country who watched it).  Normally when a series this great fails, I’m quick to blame reality television and the short attention span of the average American TV viewer, but in this case the show’s failure can be attributed to poor marketing and an unfortunate title that didn’t give viewers any idea of what the show was about (hint: it was not about dogs).  I almost didn’t tune in myself because the ads made it appear to be just another throwaway buddy detective romp, but I decided to give it a shot because I like Donal Logue.  I’m glad I did because this show turned out to be so much more than its billing.  Far from the lightweight buddy comedy it was sold as, Terriers (with its gritty realism) was actually more akin to the great noir films of cinema. The entire season with its main story arc and numerous subplots played like a novel with well-drawn characters who you actually cared about.  A stellar cast and superb writing set this series above almost anything else on television.  Mystery, crime, romance, family drama, comic relief, heartbreak, shocking deaths—this show had it all, and it’s a tragedy that it never found an audience.  I saw several columns written by critics throughout the season singing the show’s praises and urging people to tune in—if only FX had been half as enthusiastic in its own promotion of the show, perhaps it would still be on the air. Like Rubicon, Terriers made many critics’ top-ten lists for the year (noticing a pattern here?), and I even saw one critic rank it as the best new show of the year.  I was tempted to put it in the top spot myself, that’s how much I loved this show.

1.  Boardwalk Empire (Fall, HBO)
With top-notch production values (including dazzling sets that faithfully recreate 1920’s Atlantic City), great writing, and a stellar cast, Boardwalk Empire is like watching a mini motion picture on a weekly basis, but I would expect nothing less from the legendary Martin Scorcese (who directed the opening episode and remains heavily involved in the production of the series).  Steve Buscemi is great as Nucky Thompson, the crime boss who runs Atlantic City, while a zealous treasury agent, played with brilliant creepiness by Michael Shannon, attempts to bring him down.  What’s great about the show is that it doesn’t just focus on Atlantic City; we also get to visit Chicago, where a young Al Capone interns under Johnny Torrio, and New York, where Arnold Rothstein (performed with great malevolence by Michale Stuhlbarg), runs things while mentoring the likes of Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lansky, two young gangsters who will one day run the most powerful organized crime organization in the country.  While not quite on the level of The Sopranos, Boardwalk Empire is nevertheless the best new show on television, and a welcome return of the gangster genre to the small screen.

Honorable Mention: Futurama (Summer, Cartoon Network)
I know what you’re thinking: “This isn’t a new show!”  Technically that’s correct, but Futurama deserves special recognition since this was its first new season in seven years.  Not only did the writers not miss a beat, but I think the show is actually better than it was during its initial run.

Well, that’s it for 2010.  Here’s hoping that the best new shows in 2011 actually survive past a first season.  Until then, have fun ringing in the new year, which I’ll be spending the same way I always do: sitting on the couch and watching the Twilight Zone marathon (though I may check in on the Buffy and Honeymooners marathons as well).

Happy New Year!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Split

Note: This was originally posted on the following pop culture blog, to which I am a contributor: 

http://popculturalcapital.wordpress.com/2010/11/30/harry-potter-and-the-deathly-split/

Welcome, readers, to my inaugural post for Pop Cultural Capital.  Before we begin, introductions are in order—or, to borrow a quote from a certain thawed British spy, “Allow myself to introduce . . . myself.”  My name is Mike.  No, not that Mike, a different one.  I tend to go by Michael professionally, so to avoid confusion with the moderator of this blog, you can call me Michael.  When Mike (the other one) invited me to contribute to this blog, I wasn’t sure what my debut would be.  I thought about opening with some sort of list ranking my favorite films (as Mike can tell you, I’m quite fond of creating lists to rank different elements of pop culture; we’ve had many such discussions over the years—and I think we both saw a frightening amount of ourselves in the main character of High Fidelity).  But lists are easy, so I figured I would save that for a time when I can’t think of anything else to write.

Instead, I decided to begin my first contribution with a question that came to mind after seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1: should a work of fiction written as a single volume be split into two films for the purposes of including as much of the source material as possible?  This seems to be a growing trend in the film industry (Tolkien’s The Hobbit is getting the same treatment).  Some have argued that the decision to split the final Harry Potter (HP) book into two films was nothing more than a cynical cash grab by the studio.  While there is definitely some truth to this, let’s assume for the purpose of this piece that the filmmakers’ intentions were completely noble—to be as faithful as possible to the novel on which the films are based.

This raises another question: how important is it for a film to be completely faithful to its source material?  After all, the most critically acclaimed film in the HP series was Prisoner of Azkaban, which took several liberties with the novel, while the longest book in the series, Order of the Phoenix, was turned into the shortest film but still worked quite well in spite of all the source material that was excised.

Purists absolutely hate when a movie doesn’t follow a book to the letter.  Admittedly, I, too, have been annoyed on occasion when my favorite parts of books were not included in the film versions.  However, I recognize that movies are a different medium and have limitations that books don’t.  One prime example that comes to mind is Stanley Kubrick’s polarizing film version of Stephen King’s The Shining. On one side are fans of the novel who loathed Kubrick’s adaptation because of how badly it bastardized the original story.  On the opposite side are those of us who were able to look past the film’s glaring omissions and outright changes to appreciate it as one of the greatest horror movies ever made.  Years later, the fans who wanted a more faithful adaptation of The Shining got their wish when King endorsed a miniseries version that virtually followed the novel verbatim.  This version, however, paled in comparison to Kubrick’s masterpiece, proving that a faithful adaptation does not guarantee great cinema.

Does this mean that filmmakers should disregard the contents of the novel they are adapting?  Of course not.  The history of cinema is littered with the carcasses of awful films based on books (many of them, as it happens, from King’s oeuvre).  The trick is to find a happy balance between doing the book justice and making a compelling film—just because something works on the page does not mean it will translate to film.  Peter Jackson, for example, was smart enough to jettison the Tom Bombadil character from his film adaptation of The Fellowship of the Ring.

Which brings me back to the latest HP flick.  I saw a good 30 minutes in Part 1 that probably could have been cut with no major loss to the story, particularly during the slow moving “camping” section of the film.  They also could have saved time by cutting the wedding scene (there was no point in introducing Bill Weasley at this stage of the series when he was completely omitted from the previous films).  This does not mean that it is a bad film (it’s well made and acted), but overall, as the first half of a single story, it is by necessity all buildup with no payoff (it basically plays as a 2.5-hour setup for the forthcoming Part II).  When paired with the final film, Part 1 will look much better, but as a standalone film, it doesn’t quite work.  Rather than ending with a compelling cliffhanger, the film basically just stops, as if you had closed a book after completing a chapter (with the knowledge that you can’t pick it up again for eight months).

“Who cares?” many HP fans say, “they’re not meant to be viewed as two separate films,” to which I would reply, “all the more reason why it should have been released as a single film.”  If all extraneous material had been excised from the novel, it’s certainly possible that The Deathly Hallows could have been presented as one long film clocking in at less than four hours, rather than an artificially split two-parter that will probably exceed five hours in combined length.

This brings us back to my original question: should a work of fiction written as a single volume be split into two films?  While splitting The Deathly Hallows did not quite work, this does not mean that it can’t be done.  I believe that a story structured with natural breaks (as in some King novels) might be adaptable to multiple films.  There’s also the option of altering a story’s structure, as Quentin Tarantino did with Kill Bill, which was originally scripted as one film but ultimately split into two volumes at the urging of the studio.  Tarantino’s talent for telling a story out of chronological order enabled each film to work both individually and as part of a whole.  Granted, Kill Bill was not a novel, but the concept is similar.

So, have I really provided a definitive answer to either of my questions?  No, but I hope you found the topic interesting nonetheless.  Anyway, I fear this post is getting rather long and in danger of devolving into a ramble (or perhaps I already crossed that line several paragraphs ago), so I’m going to end it here.  I suppose I should have taken my own advice and edited out some unnecessary material, or maybe [gulp] I should have split this post into two parts!

In closing, I’d like to thank Mike and Paul for inviting me to contribute to this cool blog, and hopefully, if I haven’t bored you to death by this point, you’ll stick around to read my future posts.  Until then, may the force be with you (sorry, I couldn’t discuss pop culture for this long without making at least one Star Wars reference).

My Review of the Lost Finale (spoiler alert)

Okay, first things first: they did not die on the plane. The island was real, the people were real, and everything that happened to them was real, as Jack’s father explained at the end. The sideways universe was a purgatory type of place where they needed to remember their lives and the people they cared about before they could move on to whatever awaited them on the other side, be it heaven, nirvana, or some other type of eternal paradise. Such an afterlife journey is a common theme in many religions. As for the island, its purpose was hinted at but never really explained–it was left open to interpretation, in much the same way as the monoliths were never explained in “2001.” I’m okay with this; I don’t need everything spelled out for me.

Was the ending perfect? No, but endings rarely are. Anyone who has ever created a story knows that the ending is the hardest part to write–ask Stephen King, a great writer whose endings often come under criticism. I think Lost pulled a bit of a fast one by implying that the sideways world was an alternate reality created by the bomb explosion, especially when Juliette told Sawyer that it had worked right before she died, and there were minor loose threads that weren’t tied up and certain characters who deserved better fates (i.e. Michael, who is doomed to spend eternity as a whispering spirit on the island, but whose crimes weren’t nearly as bad as Ben’s), but these are minor quibbles in a show of such epic scope.

Lost was about many things: science vs. faith, good vs. evil, time travel, redemption, etc., but ultimately, Lost was about the characters, their journeys, and their relationships with each other. In the end, all you really want is a conclusion that does justice to the characters with whom you invested six years of your life. In this regard, the ending was perfectly satisfying and poignant on a metaphysical level. These people, who only spent a few months of their lives together, found the experience and the relationships they cultivated so profound that they chose to spend eternity together. I can’t imagine anyone who watched the show from the beginning not to have been moved by this, as well as all of the little moments leading up to it as each character in turn remembered what they had forgotten, as long lost couples and old friends reunited, Ben’s moments with Locke and Hurley and his decision stay behind because he apparently felt unworthy to join them, Jack’s conversation with his father, the show coming full circle as Jack lay down to die in the same location in which we had first met him six years ago, the joy in his eyes as he watched his friends escape on the plane, Vincent the dog lying down beside him so he didn’t have to die alone, the final closeup of his eye closing–and most importantly the performances by the stellar cast in all of these moments.

Lost was one of the most popular and critically acclaimed shows in television history for a reason–it was that good, that unique. The writing was top-notch and the acting was superb. Kudos to the show’s creators for deciding midway through its run that it would have a definite end date, so as not to overstay its welcome. Most shows have that jump-the-shark moment, a sign that its best days are behind it, that the creative well has run dry. That never happened with this show. Sure, there may have been a few scattered weak episodes, but overall it remained compelling from beginning to end. If you missed it, you missed out. If you chose not to watch it because you’re one of those people who automatically hates anything that’s popular, well that’s your loss. But it’s not too late–thanks to DVDs, you can still experience one of the greatest shows of all time. The ending may not have been to everyone’s satisfaction, but the journey is often as important (or more important) than the destination, and I, for one, am glad to have taken the ride.

My Quick Review of the Billy Joel and Elton John Concert in Philly on July 30th, 2009

I had a great day. First I took a ride down to my old digs in Clayton and hung out with my friend Bruce, then I had a good linner with him and his girlfriend at a barbecue restaurant (can’t remember its name) in either Pittman or Richwood. After that I met up with my uncle and we headed to Citizens Bank Park, where I pigged out some more before the concert by eating the Schmitter sandwich (which is very good) and a large ice cream cone.

What a perfect venue for a concert. Our seats were up in the 400 level with a good view of the stage and a fantastic view of the city line in the background, which looked even more awesome after dark when it was all lit up.

As for the concert itself: awesome! As much as I love Springsteen, this was the best concert I saw this year. Billy and Elton started off playing together, then played separate sets, then finished together.

Elton’s set was phenomenal: every song except for one was from his 70’s heyday, including rare gems like ‘Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding’ (the highlight of the night for me) and ‘Madman Across the Water.’ I also loved the great rendition of ‘Rocket Man’ that evolved into an extended jam session at the end.

Billy was excellent, too. He opened with a rousing ‘Prelude/Angry Young Man’ (love that song) and played most of his hits from ‘The Stranger,’ as well as some of his other big hits. He also mixed in a cool, jazzy ‘Zanzibar,’ and even donned a guitar as his band played AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ with a guest vocalist–and sounded very good doing it.

I liked Elton’s set better, but Billy was much more engaging with the crowd, so it was a tossup. The highlight of their playing together was the dueling pianos during ‘Benny and the Jets,’ and watching them trade vocals on some of their biggest hits was also very cool. They closed the show with the highly appropriate ‘Piano Man,’ during which the singing crowd (who were as much a part of the show as the performers) must have been heard all the way in Jersey.

Overall, they both delivered more than my money’s worth as they played for nearly 3 1/2 hours. The only downside to the concert was the annoying college girls sitting behind us singing loudly, shrilly, and out of tune the entire time. Other than that, it was a perfect evening.