PLANETARY STORIES: CITY OF LOST ANGELS

Here are some illustrations that I did recently for Pulp Sprits at Planetary Stories, an online magazine. The story they illustrated was City of Lost Angels by Rick Norwood.

Unfortunately they are reproduced very small on the website, so here they are at the size that I originally made them.

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

PROMETHEUS: A REVIEW WITH MINOR SPOILERS

Prometheus gave mortals the gift of fire, an act which angered the rest of the gods who promptly punished him by chaining him to a rock where a great bird ate his liver for eternity.


The old gods were certainly less charitable back then.


But what if they were even less charitable? Suppose instead of confining their wrath merely to poor Prometheus, they decided to wipe out mortal man as well?

Ridley Scott rose to prominence as a director with the first Alien movie back in 1979. That film launched a string of sequels of fairly uneven quality in the intervening years. Now he returns with Prometheus, the prequel to the first film, and it is just as uneven.

The problem with the film is that it is trying to be too many things at once. It is both highbrow and lowbrow. It is fast-paced, and yet slow moving. It is an art film, but it is also a horror film. It is a philosophical examination of the nature of the relationship between man and his creator, but it is also an effects laden big-budget (3D) sci-fi flick. It is an ALIEN film but it is also something new. It is a zen garden but it is also a warehouse.

Does it sound schizophrenic? Because it kind of is.

That's probably why most other reviews of the film are all staring of with; "I liked it, but..."

Scott is trying to give something new, something massive, something epic, but at the same time is trying to satisfy the demands of the established franchise. It is a tricky balancing act that would be impossible for almost any other director, but Ridley almost... almost... pulls it off. (He is Ridley Scott, after all.)

After all is said and done the film manages to set the stage for the first movie. The fallout -- the detritus -- the leftovers -- of this film are the impetus for the Alien films. In fact the whole "alien" creature is depicted as an unintended afterthought of the epic events of Prometheus. For me that kind of cheapened all the other films. It also gives the lie to the titles of the subsequent films. Without giving too much away away, given the amount of human DNA that went into creating the thing, it can hardly be categorized as completely "alien".

A ubiquitous problem with a prequel made years after the "sequel" is that film technology improves. Prometheus is a beautifully designed film. The ships, the spacesuits, the technology is all amazing. So much so that it makes the first film, which takes place years after this one, look cheap and shoddy in comparison.

This is particularly true of David, the robot. Michael Fassbinder portrays him as a beautiful creature, with perfectly sculpted features and a Nazi precision that is genuinely frightening. He is the embodiment of human perfection. He is so perfect that he makes the subsequent robots (Ash, Bishop) look dumpy in comparison. To be fair, Ash and Bishop were designed to blend in better with the great unwashed of humanity -- Ash was designed to infiltrate a human crew who was unaware of his artificial nature -- nevertheless, they suffer in comparison.

Some scenes in Prometheus have an almost Kubrickian beauty and pacing. Other scenes "go for the gross-out". There are creatures of beauty and perfection contrasted with bloody, puss filled squiddy critters. Unfortunately the tentacles and blood tends to draw down the beauty and the philosophy --  like a New York steak served with a side of 'tater tots. You wouldn't really remember that as a fancy meal and it isn't fun enough to be junk food.

I can recommend it for the design alone. As I said, the space ships and space suits are amazing (and the actors look amazing in them) as is the look of the planet and the domed structures (with the skull faces on the side.) (It's funny that when the ship lands the skull is hidden from view. If they'd landed 45 degrees to the right it would have been visible and they might not have been so keen to go exploring.).

The "engineers" are beautiful as well and how they fit in with the "Space Jockey" from the original Alien is a surprisingly clever twist. Charlize Theron, is physically beautiful (and has an amazing ass - in 3D!) but she plays a character who is reprehensible -- batshit crazy and kind of scary. Idris Elba stands out as the captain of the Prometheus. Guy Pearce gives a surprising performance as well. Noomi Rapace plays the main character, Doctor Shaw. She has a very odd look and, although she is likable, I did not find her very interesting. She's a good actress but she's no Sigourney Weaver.

So, there you go. Prometheus ranges from really good to somewhat OK. There's nothing really bad about it. It aspires to be more than a monster movie, but it also aspires to be a monster movie. Unfortunately neither movie manages a home run. It answers some questions but then asks several more. There are many nice touches but not really any clear reason for their inclusion. David trying to emulate Peter O'Toole in Lawrence of Arabia, for instance. Why?

Unless it is that when your creator rejects you -- indeed tries to kill you -- just like that other Prometheus, the modern one -- it hurts. "The trick," David says, mimicking Peter O'Toole, "is not minding that it hurts."

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

SIC TRANSIT GLORIA

Thus passes the glory of the world. All things are fleeting. The center cannot hold.


Or, to say it prosaically; things change.


Venus made a transit in front of the sun this week. I did not see it myself because we experienced a deluge of rain. Rain warnings were in effect, not that we needed them -- our heads and the backs of our necks told the story quite nicely when we went outside without an umbrella. Nevertheless, it happened and will not happen again for over a hundred years.


Ray Bradbury made a transit as well. He moved from this world to the next -- the Undiscovered Country from whose bourn no traveller returns. Whatever there is in that country -- celestial figures with white robes and harps or a surfeit of nothingness -- I'm sure he will have no trouble speaking the language.


Bradbury was a poet. He was the poet of speculative fiction who translated his dreams into words and sometimes frightened us but always filled us a sense of wonder. I say "us" but what I really mean is "me". I don't really speak for all of us.

Bradbury did, though. Bradbury dreamed and wrote it down and those of us who read dreamed along with him. I have been to Mars, and it is not a dusty, rusty collection of sand and rocks, it is a lonely landscape populated by golden-eyed beings who ride skimmers over the sand.


Because of him I know that there is wonder and darkness and sometimes terror to be found in attics and in carnivals that come through small towns. There are pumpkin fields to run through and endless days of summer in which to play.


The future will have spaceships and time travel and machines that can take you from your ultra-chic modern house to a veldt in africa. And if you are a negligent parent you should watch out for those lions in the distance. They look kind of hungry, don't they?


Transitions happen all the time. Sometimes they are small and we barely notice them. Sometimes they come at us unexpected and sometimes they loom so large on the horizon they feel like they will overwhelm us with their size.


We adapt or we die like the dinosaurs. We roll with the changes. It's up to us whether we let those transits make us hard like stone or, through it all, keep our childlike sense of wonder about the world.


Try to weather your transits as best you can. Try to retain a childlike sense of wonder about the world or, if you don't have one, try to cultivate one. Yes there are frightening things in the world. There are dark carnivals that come to town and try to steal your soul. There are hungry lions in the veldt. There are forces that will try to control your thoughts by burning all the books.

But they, too will transit, and the old men who have memorized the books will come out of hiding, leave the road and come back to the libraries to fill the empty shelves again.

I apologize for the rambling nature of this post. A confluence of transits, one of which is the passing of Mister Bradbury, whose work has had a great influence on me all of my life, have put me in a reflective mood.

But this, too shall pass, and I will be back to posting silly drawings (and maybe one or two "serious" ones). 

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

THE TRANSIT OF VENUS

For starwatchers, a celestial even is scheduled to happen June 5th and 6th. The Transit of Venus sounds like the title of a romantic poem but actually describes what happens when the planet Venus passes between the sun and the earth. Effectively what you will see is Venus moving slowly across the face of the sun over a period of about seven hours.

Now, naturally you cannot look at the sun directly unless you want to be blind. You have to use special glasses or have a telescope or binoculars set up to project the image onto a screen:

Or if you can visit this website and watch it live over the web.

And remember, if you miss it this time you can always catch the next one in a mere 105 years in December, 2117.

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

Death of a Friend

Friday morning we got word that a friend and co-worker had died. We knew that she was sick. She'd been in hospital for many weeks and we knew that the doctors had given low odds that she would pull through. Nevertheless news of her passing came as a shock and it made for a sombre Friday.


Unfortunately there is little time for contemplation. I am committed to a lot of work this weekend. Hopefully I'll be able to post some more artwork soon. I have been doing a lot of it but none that I can show off just yet.




I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

HE HAS WALKED THIS EARTH FOR 47 YEARS

Cal... the man they call Cal!

He has entertained us from his icy lair known as the Cave of Cool. Located in the northern tundra of Alberta, Canada -- a frozen wasteland in the winter, a blackfly infested bog in the summer -- Cal entertains his followers with his cat captions, his Image Avalanches, his Wednesdays with Wonder Woman, his 60 second stories, the folks who are having a worse day than you, the redheads, the batgirls, Selena, Hattie and the rest, his good natured ennui and his witty repartee.


He is a true blogstar and I am proud to be able to call him my friend.

Happy Birthday, you magnificent bastard!

Visit his blog, wish him a Happy Birthday and tell him MD sent ya!




I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

YOU SURE CAN SEE PLENTY FROM UP HERE...

I love this cartoon by Bill Ward. I saw it and had to swipe it from rhade-zapan's tumblr.


I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

THE TROPIC OF CANCER IS NOT A DISEASE

I have been trying to track down a copy of Henry Miller's The Tropic of Cancer.  I do have a copy on order, but the other day, on a whim, I ducked into one of two used bookstores that the small town in which I live boasts. (And they don't really boast about it at all. Most people's reaction is: "Why do we need two used book stores?" We have five pubs and three pet stores but the consensus is that two used bookstores is too much).


The very nice lady minding the store asked if she could help me. "I'm looking for a copy of The Tropic of Cancer." I said. The woman gave me a funny look. "By Henry Miller?" I added.


She sighed and nodded. "The section is over here," she said. I followed her as she led me to a corner of the store. "We have a wide selection," she said with a sympathetic tone. "Which is good. Sadly, too many people need them these days."

Okay. Henry Miller's novel, written in the early 1930's, (and banned in the USA and Britain) is centered in France and concerns Miller's life as a struggling writer. So why was I standing in front of a very large and prodigiously stocked section on Health and Wellness?


Confused (but suddenly suspecting the misunderstanding) I was about to say something when the owner, another pleasant woman, came up and asked if she could be of help. "This fellow is looking for books about cancer," the first woman said.


The owner gave me a look of deepest sadness and sympathy.


I shook my head. "No, no no. I'm looking for a book called The Tropic of Cancer. It's not about cancer, it's just... that's the title. It's by Henry Miller."


"Oh," the owner said, suddenly understanding. "That would be in our classics section," she said, pointing to a much smaller section of shelves. With that, both women seemed to vanish as they went back to what they were doing, leaving me on my own.


The "classics" section had a collection of older looking books, arranged alphabetically but in a desultory fashion. I found the M's. They had Moliere and they had Milton and they had Lucy Maude Montgomery, but no Miller.


As I was walking out the door the owner called from the back; "Any luck?"


I shook my head. She shrugged and gave me a sympathetic (though not as sympathetic as when she thought I was dealing with cancer) look. "No? Sorry."


Maybe tomorrow I'll try the other used bookstore. I am not hopeful.


I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARLAN ELLISON!

I first posted this two years ago. I am reposting it again just 'cus it's Harlan's birthday and I got nothin' else goin' on.
_____________________________________


I have mentioned before about meeting Harlan Ellison. As today is his birthday I thought it would be appropriate to cobble together my memories of that evening. So here it is:

IT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO TODAY...

...that Harlan Ellison came to Vancouver to speak. It was in late May and close to Mister Ellison's birthday. My friend Leonard Wong was organizing the event and we came up with the idea to throw a bit of a birthday celebration for Harlan.

I was the host of a weekly sf radio show called The Ether Patrol and we were publicizing the event. We booked a local Thai Restaurant and invited many of the local authors to come by. Unfortunately few were able to show up. Most of the guests were staffers of the show. Comic artist George Metzger and his son were in attendance as well as Harlan's former secretary and her husband Wes who had moved to the Pacific Northwest.

Harlan and Susan arrived and Harlan, in one of the classiest moves I have ever seen, took what could have been an awkward situation (a birthday party thrown by people that you don't even know) and turned it completely around. He made a point of meeting all the guests and hosts, putting everybody at complete ease.

The dinner went really well other than an incident where the co-host of the show, Kyle Kirkwood, tried to take Harlan's picture.

After the dinner we walked to the Vancouver Art Gallery where the talk was to take place and I took the opportunity to chat with Harlan. I can't remember what we talked about but I do remember it being a very pleasant conversation. As we approached the Art Gallery Harlan didn't see any people. He kept shaking his head and saying "You're gonna lose money on this," to Leonard. He didn't have to worry. The audience was already inside and waiting to get into the specific room in which he was going to speak.

I had the privilege of introducing Harlan to the audience. I was nervous but it went well other than getting a few facts wrong, which Harlan corrected by shouting them up at me. That done Harlan took the stage and enthralled us for the better part of two hours followed by an exhaustive autograph session.

After it was all over I walked partway to the hotel with Harlan and Susan. He pointed to me and said "You're weird". I wasn't quite sure how he meant it but I decided to take it as a complement. Just before we parted he saw a penny on the ground. "You know what my wife says? If you pick up a penny and put it in your pocket, then all day long you will have a penny in your pocket," Harlan was too wiped out to pick up the penny (he was suffering from chronic fatigue) so I picked up the penny.

"Here, Harlan," I handed it to him. "Have a penny in your pocket."

People have said that Harlan Ellison is acerbic at best, outright rude at worst, but that evening (and the week before when I spoke to him on the phone for about an hour) I found him to be charming, engaging and every inch the gentleman.

He is a class act and it is an evening that I remember with a great deal of fondness.

(By the way: these are NOT my pictures. The pictures from that evening are not in my possession. But this is basically how he looked back then.)

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

VANISHING GIRL

By the Dukes of the Stratosphere (a.k.a: XTC)


I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

LOVE HURTS

...and it`s also kind of annoying.


I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

THE RAVEN

The Raven, far from being an adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's immortal poem (nor a remake of the 1963 Roger Corman movie), is one of those movies of a particular genre of which I am quite fond. That is, a movie about a famous author being dragged into an adventure that is just like those that he or she writes about.

Not a biography at all, these films are adventures in their own rights but usually contain many literary allusions. Wim Wenders' 1983 film Hammet, starring Frederick Forrest as author Dashiel Hammet who gets involved in a Hammet-like hardboiled mystery, is one of the best examples. Another is Steven Soderbergh's 1991 Kafka in which Jeremy Irons plays the author Franz Kafka as he gets involved in a mystery that is... well... kafka-esque.

In The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe, played with a manic intensity by John Cusak, is drawn into a mystery that has overtones of Poe's own writing. Someone is literally recreating murder scenes from Poe's stories.


The film opens with a recreation of the murder scene from Murders in the Rue Morgue. Anyone who is vaguely familiar with the story can see it right away. Unfortunately the police in Baltimore are clueless except for Detective Fields (played by Luke Evans) who has read a book or two. He calls Poe in, at first as a suspect, then later to consult on the case.

What is the case? In a nutshell a deranged serial killer is racking up a body count all the while orchestrating the murders to resemble Poe's stories and poems. As a turn-of-the-century serial killer movie The Raven hits all the familiar notes: taunting messages to the police from the killer, a living hostage (in this case Emily, Poe's fiancee) whose life hangs in the balance, cryptic clues placed on the victim's bodies which tip the erstwhile investigators to the location of the next murder (where they arrive just slightly too late, of course). Time is running out for poor Emily and the detectives become more desperate as the movie progresses.


As a serial killer movie there is little here that is new, other than the inclusion of Edgar Allan Poe. Cusack plays Poe with a manic intensity and anger that seems more like a 19th century Harlan Ellison rather than the sedate and gloomy author that most would have expected to see. I'm not sure if I buy Poe as action hero, but then again, this is Hollywood.

Luke Evans is rather stiff as Detective Fields and Alice Eve plays Poe's love interest with a predictably modern sensibility, only falling into 19th century stereotypical behaviour when the plot calls for it.

The movie is kind of fun if one doesn't take it too seriously. The allusions to Poe's work are interesting, if  not overly clever. Nor is it entirely historically accurate. One of the victims, Griswald, was a real-life critic and rival who actually survived Poe and wrote some nasty stuff about him after his death. The film takes its revenge on Griswald in a particularly nauseating scene where the critic is very messily eviscerated by a giant pendulum (I saw that one coming) lovingly rendered using make-up and CGI. Not for the squeamish. I was only thankful that the film was NOT in 3D.

The film is visually arresting, particularly the opening a closing sequences which take historical fact and stitch it together with the movie's plot to try to explain the mysterious circumstances surrounding the final days of Poe's life. The cinematography is well done and the whole atmosphere of 19th century Baltimore is rendered well.


I do not know if the film is still in theaters, so even were I to recommend it (which I do, just) you could try to hunt it out, or wait until its arrival on DVD. It would certainly be worth the rental.

Or you could just go read some Poe. Hunt up a copy of Tales of Mystery and Imagination from the library or bookstore or Amazon.com and read for a change and stop being illiterate cretins!


Kidding... just kidding. Love you all, you know that.




I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio