Hail Brittania
Feb. 22nd, 2009 05:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lunasariel Why is it that all the best talent comes out of the UK? From antiquity (Chaucer, Shakespeare), through the harsh-yet-beautiful late 19th and early 20th centuries (Dickens, Wells, Stoker, Doyle, Orczy) into the turbulent but prolific era of the 60's and 70's (Tolkien, Monty Python, Doctor Who, The Beatles), and up to the modern day (Harry Potter, half the cast and crew of the Lord of the Rings movies).
Chaucer, Shakespeare, and other pre-19th century figures I don't know enough about to comment on effectively, but I know that they, at the very least, deserve the undying gratitude of every Renaissance Faire-goer and English (language) professor in the world.
We can thank Dickens and Co. for paving the way for most, if not all, modern fiction. Just think! Detective/gumshoe stories, time travel, vampires, and even Batman (loosely based on Emmuska Orczy's Scarlet Pimpernel) all owe their existence to Brits!
It's the 60's and 70's where I personally have the most reason to be grateful. Tolkien, of course, I have waxed eloquent upon before. To me, Tolkien will always be the absolute top of the heap. I mean, how many other people can say that they just created not only an entire functioning world, complete with exhaustive genealogies and weather patterns, but also, in creating this world, an entire genre that would use his work(s) as a springboard for literally millions of books, movies, and games, although admittedly all of varying quality. Every time I open one of his books, I am struck anew by the passion, the belief, and the love he poured into these works. This love shines through in every word and every image, and that's what makes me love it so. Well, one of the things.
Monty Python, as far as I'm concerned, is the epitome of comedy. They are genuinely funny, but not at all lowbrow or mean-spirited. In this day and age, humor mostly consists of crass, lowest-common-denominator cheap laughs (Family Guy), or is propped up by our already self-mocking political system. The Monty Python guys, although they do occasionally take on politics in one form or another, were and are famous for finding the absurd, the asinine, and the unintentionally funny in everyday life. Although that's not to say that the Pythons just presented life in a humorous manner, they tweaked it just enough so that we could recognize ordinary people and situations, but then threw in a heaping helping of absurdity. Thus, a foreigner and a shopkeeper using a phrasebook to try to communicate becomes "Dirty Hungarian Phrasebook", a son rejecting his father's traditional lifestyle becomes "Prejudice," and obnoxious upper-middle-class behavior becomes "Upper Class Twit of the Year." And then of course, there's "nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!," "this is an ex-parrot!," the Ministry of Silly Walks, and the immortal Spam. I mean, where else can you make millions of dollars and gain international face for thinking of new and funny ways to use the word "stoat"? And I won't even get going on "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
I don't know much about the original Doctor Who, but from what I've read, it seems to have become an integral part of the culture, and I quite like the new serieses, so I call it a plus. Also, I was watching the behind-the-scenes thingy for Season 1 of the new series (the one with Christopher Eccelson), and the delight on these people's faces was truly a thing to see. To them, this was the best life could get. They were taking the show that had brought them so much happiness, and bringing it to life all over again. And from the way they talked, I knew that these were the true-blue, diehard fans, comparable to Peter Jackson's team for Lord of the Rings. To them, a blue police box wasn't just a little house with a phone inside, it was nothing other than the TARDIS, and Daleks, Cybermen, and the Master were vibrant, menacing foes. I dunno, it just always makes me happy to see people bringing to cinematic a story that they truly hold close to their hearts.
And then there were the Beatles. My dear old Fab Four. I grew up listening to them, watching them, even pretending to be them. I probably memorized "Help!" (both the song and the movie) and wondered why my mom became depressed whenever she heard "Imagine." Personal feelings aside, they kicked off the famous British Invasion, sold more than one billion records (that's 1,000,000,000), and influenced every aspect of pop culture for years to come.
Speaking of years to come, this brings us to the present day, and to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. I don't think there is a cognizant human being in the First World who doesn't know about it. Some people have called it the successor (not the sequel) to Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit (I don't include The Silmarillion, because it is a scholarly work, not an entertaining one, although it does entertain, and it certainly was never written for children or young adults), and while Tolkien and Rowling are in rather different literary strata, I can see how people come to that conclusion. Both are enjoyed equally by children and adults, both took the literary world by storm despite gloomy predictions, and both tell the struggles and sacrifices of a young, orphaned, adventurous hero and his ragtag, plucky band of companions against enormous odds to dethrone a being of ultimate evil, although complexities and shades of gray exist around every corner.
Finally, most of the cast and crew of Peter Jackson's amazing adaptation of Lord of the Rings were also British. I've already spent quite a bit of time lauding these fine men and women, so I'll keep it simple. It was a tough job to do, they succeeded far beyond anybody's wildest expectations, and they did so under some pretty staggering conditions. To everybody from PJ himself down to the lowliest prop wrangler (or whatever else the lowliest job in film-making is): a heartfelt thank-you from the fans of the world.
On the off chance that anybody is reading this and has managed to make it this far, you're probably wondering what kicked off this outpouring of British commendation. Well, it all started a few days ago when I was watching Repo! The Genetic Opera, and I was thinking what a good job they did casting it. Sarah Brightman lent the film some serious credibility, Paul Sorvino lent it some weight (as well as a surprisingly good singing voice), Alexa Vega gave me some warm'n'fuzzy flashbacks to her Spy Kids days (although that almost certainly wasn't what the casting director intended), Paris Hilton barely needed to do any acting at all in her role as the spoiled, narcissistic, idiotic heiress, but Anthony Head really cinched it. The movie didn't really come alive for me until about 15 minutes in, during the song "Legal Assassin," in which Head's character sings a song called "Legal Assassin," in which he becomes increasingly unable to bear his double life as Nathan Wallace, grieving widower, overprotective father, and mild-mannered physician, and the Repo Man, a state-sponsored serial killer responsible for a series of gory dismemberings, disembowelings, and just about any other "dis-" you can think of. The song is soft and mournful, until he startles the audience by suddenly belting out, "I am only living out a LIE!" The raw agony on his face, the unbearable desperation in his voice, the way his hands curled into fists/claws...like Zydrate, it takes you there. His pain and terror as Nathan is just as believable as his unholy glee as the Repo Man, and his tenderness towards Shilo, Nathan's daughter, was all but real.
After thinking about this for a bit, I realized that I really dig Anthony Head, a bit as Nathan Wallace/Repo Man, but mostly as Rupert Giles, the fusty, befuddled, deadly, and utterly protective and loyal Watcher from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Although he is literally old enough to be my father (actually, he's two years older than my dad), I find him not quite an object of romantic affection, but certainly one of my favorite actors. I think his appeal lies in more of a protector/mentor/father figure than in any sexual attraction. No, definitely not. But his occasional stunned-bunny look or faint stutter of incomprehension, his drab, straight-laced suits and ties, his round little reading glasses (as he and Yuki Eiri prove, "the biggest badasses/are guys who wear glasses"), his soft, cultured Oxford accent, his pleasant, rational demeanor, especially when contrasted with the brutal, psychotic rage he can be moved to when his friends and/or charges are threatened, his deadly competence with weapons, his intellectual prowess, and especially the combination of the last two, leads to pure, undiluted awesome.
I just finished re-watching the first season of Buffy yesterday (I do intend to make it through all eight seasons this time), and I noticed two things.
First, there were three bloopers in the final episode, "Prophecy Girl." First, after the Master kills Buffy in a bust shot, she drops out of the picture, and we hear her body hit the ground with a "thud." But then, in the next shot, he turns to go, and her body falls into the pool with a "splash." So not only did he apparently drop her twice, but he dropped her in different locations. Second, when the Master drops Buffy into the pool, she lands with her arms close to her sides. But when Angel and Xander come across her a bit later, they are at right angles to her body. Finally, her eyes were open when Angel pulls her out of the water, but closed when Xander administers CPR, despite neither of the guys having closed them.
The second non-blooper thing I noticed (or rather, re-noticed) was the sense of family, of home that Buffy and the Scoobies generate. In the first three seasons, it's the school library of Sunnydale High. After that, it becomes Giles' shop, The Magic Box. After that, it moves around a bit. All I know is that whether our motley little band is gathered to plan an assault on an ancient apocalypse-hell-demon or to celebrate someone's birthday, the camaraderie they generate is like no other.
Chaucer, Shakespeare, and other pre-19th century figures I don't know enough about to comment on effectively, but I know that they, at the very least, deserve the undying gratitude of every Renaissance Faire-goer and English (language) professor in the world.
We can thank Dickens and Co. for paving the way for most, if not all, modern fiction. Just think! Detective/gumshoe stories, time travel, vampires, and even Batman (loosely based on Emmuska Orczy's Scarlet Pimpernel) all owe their existence to Brits!
It's the 60's and 70's where I personally have the most reason to be grateful. Tolkien, of course, I have waxed eloquent upon before. To me, Tolkien will always be the absolute top of the heap. I mean, how many other people can say that they just created not only an entire functioning world, complete with exhaustive genealogies and weather patterns, but also, in creating this world, an entire genre that would use his work(s) as a springboard for literally millions of books, movies, and games, although admittedly all of varying quality. Every time I open one of his books, I am struck anew by the passion, the belief, and the love he poured into these works. This love shines through in every word and every image, and that's what makes me love it so. Well, one of the things.
Monty Python, as far as I'm concerned, is the epitome of comedy. They are genuinely funny, but not at all lowbrow or mean-spirited. In this day and age, humor mostly consists of crass, lowest-common-denominator cheap laughs (Family Guy), or is propped up by our already self-mocking political system. The Monty Python guys, although they do occasionally take on politics in one form or another, were and are famous for finding the absurd, the asinine, and the unintentionally funny in everyday life. Although that's not to say that the Pythons just presented life in a humorous manner, they tweaked it just enough so that we could recognize ordinary people and situations, but then threw in a heaping helping of absurdity. Thus, a foreigner and a shopkeeper using a phrasebook to try to communicate becomes "Dirty Hungarian Phrasebook", a son rejecting his father's traditional lifestyle becomes "Prejudice," and obnoxious upper-middle-class behavior becomes "Upper Class Twit of the Year." And then of course, there's "nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!," "this is an ex-parrot!," the Ministry of Silly Walks, and the immortal Spam. I mean, where else can you make millions of dollars and gain international face for thinking of new and funny ways to use the word "stoat"? And I won't even get going on "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
I don't know much about the original Doctor Who, but from what I've read, it seems to have become an integral part of the culture, and I quite like the new serieses, so I call it a plus. Also, I was watching the behind-the-scenes thingy for Season 1 of the new series (the one with Christopher Eccelson), and the delight on these people's faces was truly a thing to see. To them, this was the best life could get. They were taking the show that had brought them so much happiness, and bringing it to life all over again. And from the way they talked, I knew that these were the true-blue, diehard fans, comparable to Peter Jackson's team for Lord of the Rings. To them, a blue police box wasn't just a little house with a phone inside, it was nothing other than the TARDIS, and Daleks, Cybermen, and the Master were vibrant, menacing foes. I dunno, it just always makes me happy to see people bringing to cinematic a story that they truly hold close to their hearts.
And then there were the Beatles. My dear old Fab Four. I grew up listening to them, watching them, even pretending to be them. I probably memorized "Help!" (both the song and the movie) and wondered why my mom became depressed whenever she heard "Imagine." Personal feelings aside, they kicked off the famous British Invasion, sold more than one billion records (that's 1,000,000,000), and influenced every aspect of pop culture for years to come.
Speaking of years to come, this brings us to the present day, and to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. I don't think there is a cognizant human being in the First World who doesn't know about it. Some people have called it the successor (not the sequel) to Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit (I don't include The Silmarillion, because it is a scholarly work, not an entertaining one, although it does entertain, and it certainly was never written for children or young adults), and while Tolkien and Rowling are in rather different literary strata, I can see how people come to that conclusion. Both are enjoyed equally by children and adults, both took the literary world by storm despite gloomy predictions, and both tell the struggles and sacrifices of a young, orphaned, adventurous hero and his ragtag, plucky band of companions against enormous odds to dethrone a being of ultimate evil, although complexities and shades of gray exist around every corner.
Finally, most of the cast and crew of Peter Jackson's amazing adaptation of Lord of the Rings were also British. I've already spent quite a bit of time lauding these fine men and women, so I'll keep it simple. It was a tough job to do, they succeeded far beyond anybody's wildest expectations, and they did so under some pretty staggering conditions. To everybody from PJ himself down to the lowliest prop wrangler (or whatever else the lowliest job in film-making is): a heartfelt thank-you from the fans of the world.
On the off chance that anybody is reading this and has managed to make it this far, you're probably wondering what kicked off this outpouring of British commendation. Well, it all started a few days ago when I was watching Repo! The Genetic Opera, and I was thinking what a good job they did casting it. Sarah Brightman lent the film some serious credibility, Paul Sorvino lent it some weight (as well as a surprisingly good singing voice), Alexa Vega gave me some warm'n'fuzzy flashbacks to her Spy Kids days (although that almost certainly wasn't what the casting director intended), Paris Hilton barely needed to do any acting at all in her role as the spoiled, narcissistic, idiotic heiress, but Anthony Head really cinched it. The movie didn't really come alive for me until about 15 minutes in, during the song "Legal Assassin," in which Head's character sings a song called "Legal Assassin," in which he becomes increasingly unable to bear his double life as Nathan Wallace, grieving widower, overprotective father, and mild-mannered physician, and the Repo Man, a state-sponsored serial killer responsible for a series of gory dismemberings, disembowelings, and just about any other "dis-" you can think of. The song is soft and mournful, until he startles the audience by suddenly belting out, "I am only living out a LIE!" The raw agony on his face, the unbearable desperation in his voice, the way his hands curled into fists/claws...like Zydrate, it takes you there. His pain and terror as Nathan is just as believable as his unholy glee as the Repo Man, and his tenderness towards Shilo, Nathan's daughter, was all but real.
After thinking about this for a bit, I realized that I really dig Anthony Head, a bit as Nathan Wallace/Repo Man, but mostly as Rupert Giles, the fusty, befuddled, deadly, and utterly protective and loyal Watcher from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Although he is literally old enough to be my father (actually, he's two years older than my dad), I find him not quite an object of romantic affection, but certainly one of my favorite actors. I think his appeal lies in more of a protector/mentor/father figure than in any sexual attraction. No, definitely not. But his occasional stunned-bunny look or faint stutter of incomprehension, his drab, straight-laced suits and ties, his round little reading glasses (as he and Yuki Eiri prove, "the biggest badasses/are guys who wear glasses"), his soft, cultured Oxford accent, his pleasant, rational demeanor, especially when contrasted with the brutal, psychotic rage he can be moved to when his friends and/or charges are threatened, his deadly competence with weapons, his intellectual prowess, and especially the combination of the last two, leads to pure, undiluted awesome.
I just finished re-watching the first season of Buffy yesterday (I do intend to make it through all eight seasons this time), and I noticed two things.
First, there were three bloopers in the final episode, "Prophecy Girl." First, after the Master kills Buffy in a bust shot, she drops out of the picture, and we hear her body hit the ground with a "thud." But then, in the next shot, he turns to go, and her body falls into the pool with a "splash." So not only did he apparently drop her twice, but he dropped her in different locations. Second, when the Master drops Buffy into the pool, she lands with her arms close to her sides. But when Angel and Xander come across her a bit later, they are at right angles to her body. Finally, her eyes were open when Angel pulls her out of the water, but closed when Xander administers CPR, despite neither of the guys having closed them.
The second non-blooper thing I noticed (or rather, re-noticed) was the sense of family, of home that Buffy and the Scoobies generate. In the first three seasons, it's the school library of Sunnydale High. After that, it becomes Giles' shop, The Magic Box. After that, it moves around a bit. All I know is that whether our motley little band is gathered to plan an assault on an ancient apocalypse-hell-demon or to celebrate someone's birthday, the camaraderie they generate is like no other.
Re: Something of interest perhaps?
Date: 2009-02-24 09:50 pm (UTC)Thanks for the link! I'll be sure to check it out.