The meat robot is under attack by bacteria determined to repurpose it as a mucus factory. Fighting back with soup, lying down, and binge watching Netflix.
…mine is using mind control on foreign leaders using an eldritch globe.
The plot and the dialogue? It looked nice and that was it. When I reviewed it I found there really wasn’t much to say but maybe it could have been more fun with either MORE wackiness or more jokes or in the other direction, a more serious plot or really anything to get it away from the point it landed that meant that it wasn’t serious enough or funny enough or quite enough enough.
So I was on the Castalia House blog – yes, yes, I shouldn’t do that to myself – and Jeffro apparently has discovered the answer:
“But the acting and the dialog is not what ultimately ruined this film. Structuring it around a female romantic lead did.” http://www.castaliahouse.com/spaceoperaweek-jupiter-ascendings-biggest-problem/
mmmmmm, nope I’m pretty sure it was the dialogue and the plot that ruined the film but do carry on Jeffro.
“This is an inherently anti-pulp premise that is being grafted onto an otherwise pitch perfect expression of classical space opera. Granted, Tarzan was Lord Greystoke. Arthur was the son of Uther. And Luke Skywalker turned out to be part of a space dynasty. “Who you are” does matter in these things. But what these characters do matters more. And these characters proving their worth and their mettle matters even more.
I don’t know why it is, but for some reason… the moment a male lead is swapped out with a female one, all of this stuff seems to go out the window. Men and women are not interchangeable. The stories that spring up around them are qualitatively different.”
But, in the film what the lead character DOES is meant to matter more than who she IS. Jeffro’s objection is based on the plot element that the lead character turns out to be (unknown to her) a space princess. In Jeffro’s defence, it is hard to tell because the plot is a mess but that all points to the plot being a mess rather than an issue with the lead’s gender.
Jeffro goes on to identify why the film falls flat at the end (I think it fell flat from the start but I’ll let Jeffro explain)
“And when you get to the ending where she is rollerblading in the sky with her space boyfriend, it’s pretty clear why: No one cares if a girl gets the guy in the end.
It’s no accomplishment to speak of, honestly. It’s normal. It’s reality’s default setting, and thus… conveys no drama to speak of. If a young girl is as cute as Mila Kunis wants a guy, she can have her pick. They will line up for her whether she is available or not. And the guy that Jupiter Jones gets…? The filmmakers worked overtime to establish that he was really more interested in getting his wings back than anything else. This is an anti-climax unworthy of space opera, pure and simple.”
The last time I discussed a piece from the Castalia House blog I was forced to wonder if the reviewer had ever seen any movies. This time I’m forced to wonder if the writer actually knows any women or people in general? Now, in Jeffro’s defence, I will note he has a point about the film: specifically in that the crappy dialogue and mess of a plot meant there really was no romantic tension – but that wasn’t due to some weird default reality in which stories about women finding love ‘conveys no drama to speak of’. I’m pretty sure that we could all name the odd story here or there or maybe THE BIGGEST SELLING GENRE IN FICTION which from time to time manages to somehow get drama out of women looking for love.
On the list of ‘things wrong with misogyny’, this kind of cluelessness is pretty low down but it aptly demonstrates a key element of it. If your understanding of 50%+ of humanity is so confused on such a basic level that you can’t even understand how there could possibly be drama in whether the ‘girls gets the guy in the end of not’ then your capacity to understand any human relationships are going to be seriously confused. It’s like trying to study mathematics while believing that numbers are a kind of gelatine desert – none of it will make sense and your kitchen will be a mess when you attempt calculus.
…I just don’t think they should text during movies at the cinema.
No, but seriously: http://file770.com/?p=35109&cpage=1#comment-636799
Full novels, heaps of goodies, gorgeous portfolios of artists works.
Not a Worldcon member? You are missing out!
[Don’t be sad, you can still join!]
From the desk of Timothy the Talking Cat.
I think it is important that I share some of my hard-earned wisdom. This week’s topic:
Millenials! Don’t you just hate them! It wasn’t like this when I was their age*. A young cat about town knew that he had to knuckle under, suck it up, shoulder their responsibilities and greet each new day as a promise of opportunity.
‘Boo hoo. I can’t afford a house or anywhere to live!’ oh you poor dear. Have you tried, oh I don’t know, saving up money for a house? If I can manage it* then SO CAN YOU. Here is how t get your own house the TRADITIONAL hard working way:
- Don’t drink your fancy coffees.
- Don’t buy your fancy iPads and other gadgets. I just borrow them from Camestros* and so can you.
- No more armadillo on toasts.*
I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I got where I was today by positive thinking, clear goals, hard work, clear thinking, positive goals and possibly the lingering effects of a brain-altering virus. These are values the modern generation have lost.
Here is my 10-point plan* to becoming a big successful science-fiction publisher with a big home and all the kibble I can eat and a robot butler:
- Be a cat.
- Exploit the human emotional weakness for small furry animals.
- Miaow a lot for food.
- Basically just take over the place.
- Don’t leave.
So boo-hoo millennials. College debt? Do you see that holding me back despite my doctorates in astrophysics, medicine and gun-collecting*? Get a part time job. For example being on the board of a major multinational corporation not only pays well but has few time-commitments enabling you to study. Have you even LOOKED for that kind of work? No? Well then don’t moan that “those kinds” of “jobs” aren’t available. Did Donald Trump just wait for some random guy to give him millions of dollars*?
So enough with your man-buns, your single-origin coffee beans, your retro-vinyl retro whatevers, your segmented bodies and multitude of legs*, time to man-up and gird-your-loins and seize the day Millenials!
Timothy the Talking Cat