Prodigal Son: Choices

    It has finally happened.  I got several people together for a roleplaying game.  Dang, it’s been a long, long time.  I wasn’t sure exactly how things were going to go down, but I guess it went OK.  With only one experienced gamer, I figured a brief introduction to the hobby would help (I hope it didn’t just confuse), and then some general questions of interest.  But after talking to Lisa a few weeks back, I realized she was right, and limiting the options was a good idea (I think she said, “Matt, just make a frickin’ decision.” Though I could be remembering it wrong).  So, I kind of boiled it down to Space 1889 or Call of Cthulhu (while leaving the possibility of something else if people had super strong feelings about something).

    After lots and lots of stammering, occasional blank stares, and a few frantic, scared-rabbit glances, I managed to spit out a stream of consciousness rant about what roleplaying games are (probably missing all the essential elements) and how they’re played.  Then, after a bit of intellectual waffling, I think I may have steered the group toward picking Call of Cthulhu, which works for me.  It’s not rule heavy or number crunchy like D&D or some others, but it’s not as loosey goosey as Over the Edge or Everway.  Having some structure seems like a good idea for folks who have never tried the hobby before.  It’s a scaffolding for the imagination to build its cathedrals (how’s that for some poetry).  With CofC chosen, we set about making the characters.  There’s a handy guide, which was …handy, because it had been quite a while since the last time I went through the process.  We have a big game hunter, a retired naval officer, a reporter, and a mobster.  And the group decided that Lovecraft’s fictional city of Arkham would be our starting point.  With some assignments for reading (you know I love homework!) and a few suggestions for things to look into, I wrapped the day up and started to let it all sink in.

    Now, I’ve got some work to do, but I’ve got a direction to go in.  We’re going to try to meet on a semi-regular biweekly basis.  So, I’ve got about two weeks to do a bunch of reading on Arkham, prep up some non-player character, and create a bunch of story hooks.  I came up with three this morning, and I kind of like ‘em.  So, I’ll probably develop those and maybe a couple others.  There’s always the possibility of multiple story threads being investigated at the same time.  As I’m doing that, I want to prep a list of movies, music, and the like for folks to check out if they’re so inclined.  Things to set the mood or capture the spirit of the age.

    The 20s were pretty wild.  You had the end of the old world and the birth of the new, women entering the workplace at unprecedented numbers, courting going out of fashion to be replaced with dating, money flowing fast and free right next to shocking poverty, great advancements in science along side cultural rejections of progress.  This is the time of flappers and Jazz.  But it’s also the dying days of the Wild West and the prime of Segregation.  Racism is rampant, religious hatreds are inflamed, the scars of one war are barely healed and the shadows of another are just starting to coalesce.  The Great Depression and the Dust Bowl are a few years away, and for the lucky few, things couldn’t be better.  Of course, the brighter the light, the darker the shadow.  And that’s where Call of Cthulhu comes in.  So, with the first night, and a bunch of choices behind us, I’m ready to get this show on the road.  It’s been a long time coming, and I’m glad it’s finally happening.  Now, I just have to not screw it up.

    So, I’m popping on the Cab Calloway, dusting off the Louise Brooks DVDs, and pulling my leather bound Lovecraft off the shelf.  I’ve got my pen and notebook ready, and I’m feeling the creative juices flowing.  If we make it through one complete story, coming to a reasonable end or stopping place, I will be happy.  If folks enjoy that and want to keep going, I will be ecstatic.

-Matt

Book Review: Hedy’s Folly

    Fans of Hollywood’s Golden Age will be familiar with Hedy Lamarr.  I first saw her opposite Charles Boyer in Algiers, and like most men do upon encountering her, fell in love.  Sadly, I was too young (10?), and she had long since retired (and was about 70).  It would never have worked.  As the years went on, I remained vaguely aware of her, seeing her in films too rarely as I built up my experience in classic cinema.  But I did note her passing with a bit of appropriate regret.  I knew, in the vaguest way, that she’d done some interesting stuff outside of acting.  I knew there was some WWII espionage or something, but I didn’t know the details.  And in spite of my love of orchestral music, I will admit, I had never heard of George Antheil.  Not once.  So this book, chronicling the unlikely meeting and collaboration of one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the silver screen, and the self proclaimed Bad Boy of Music, was enlightening, to say the very least.  It's a celebration of two wild lives and their world changing collaboration.

    This is not a biography of Lamarr or Antheil, though it does provide a good deal of biographical information for context.  Author Richard Rhodes jumps between two very different lives that almost seemed destined to cross paths, showing how each person grew, gaining knowledge and experience that would be invaluable when combined.  Lamarr grew up in Austria, the child of a well off family, in the years after the Great War.  Antheil traveled to Europe, part of that post War Paris community of American artists.  He had dreams of grandiosity, of changing the way music was made.  She had her eyes on the theater.  And all the while, War was brewing again.

    Though not written as a novel, one could very easily see this being turned into a film.  The backdrop of Europe in those heady days between wars, two charismatic young people, danger and secrets.  Fascinating stuff.  Hedy’s first marriage, to an arms manufacturer, exposes her to some interesting technologies.  And her technical inclinations are awakened.  Antheil marries, too, but faces money woes.  The two almost meet, even know some of the same people.  But it wasn’t to be, yet.  Of course, they do eventually meet, Antheil ‘selling out’ by doing movie scores, Lamarr hitting it big in Hollywood.  And together they would invent a technology that would go on, eventually, to shape the modern world.

    The book is an entertaining and informative read, but at the end, I was left a bit disappointed.  I think what it functions best as is a jumping off point for finding out more about the two central figures.  Hedy Lamarr remains a largely mysterious figure, with specific events being delineated, while little of her heart makes it onto the pages.  Perhaps the recent biography from Stephen Michael Shearer will accomplish that.  Whereas Antheil comes off as kind of a buffoon.  Throughout the book, it felt like the author was trying to cover for a friend; like he knew Antheil kind of a jackass, but he wanted us to focus on his good traits.  However, he dropped enough information about his bad behavior that the attempts to gloss over them ring false.  It does make me want to read Antheil’s own words, his biography Bad Boy of Music (yeah, seriously).  And reading this book prompted me to pick up a CD of his work, which I’ve enjoyed thoroughly.

    I think that both George Antheil and Hedy Lamarr are far more interesting characters than this book manages to capture.  However the story of their invention is presented well.  It’s a quick read, too.  Rhodes doesn’t mess about.  And as I said, it’s a good starting point for further reading.  More on Paris in the between war years, more on Hollywood’s Golden Age, more on Antheil’s futurist music, more on the technological advancements of World War II.  The best books make you want to read more, to learn more.  With that in mind, Hedy’s Folly gets my recommendation.

Hedy’s Folly
Author: Richard Rhodes
Publisher: Doubleday
ISBN: 978-0-385-53438-3

-Matthew J. Constantine

Matt’s Week in Dork! (9/15/13-9/21/13)

I'm no flat tire. How 'bout a Gin Rickey?

    Trying to fit some reading and some writing in, but mostly just working and recovering from working.  Got a little cycling in.  Otherwise, mostly just stared at my walls.

Riddick:  “It matches your nipples.”  This movie is not horrible, and that’s about all I wanted from it.  I really enjoyed Pitch Black, and while I kinda enjoy Chronicles of Riddick, it never quite worked for me, seeing how it seems to take place in a totally different style of science fiction universe.  This third film feels more like Pitch Black in style, though it holds over some elements of the more fanciful Chronicles.  It starts as a Robinson Crusoe story, with Riddick left for dead on a hostile world, learning to live and thrive in the environment.  This is the best part of the movie, and I was a little sad to see him push the button that would summon more characters and shift the tone.  From that point on, it began to smell more and more of Pitch Black rehash, though it still wasn’t bad.  The dialog is frequently awkward (though nothing tops ‘you keep what you kill’ and a dozen other idiocies from Chronicles’ Necromongers).  As a science fiction movie?  This is pretty crappy.  As a fun, silly adventure film in space, this is exactly what I was looking for.  Again, if movies like this, After Earth, Oblivion, etc. were just more common, I’d be a bit harsher on them.  But as it is, big-idea, out there science fiction is still all too rare.

Beyond the Rocks:  I’m always happy to hear about movies thought lost that are rediscovered and recovered.  But, while the fact of its recovery is good, the movie itself is so-so.  A fairly bland romantic film with little to make it stand out.  Apparently, putting two big names in one feature (here, Valentino and Gloria Swanson) was unusual.  Sadly, neither seems to be especially energetic or interesting.  I’m assuming Valentino is better elsewhere, because as far as silent actors go, he did not impress in this film, and I know ladies went nuts for him once upon a time.

The Delicious Little Devil:  Not much to this short film.  It’s mildly amusing.  But it’s also pretty darned forgettable.

The Bad and the Beautiful:  Kirk Douglas’s eyes should be registered as deadly weapons.  The man can hate-stare so intently it makes women pregnant and men into women (who subsequently discover they are pregnant).  The rest of the cast is quite good.  I especially like Walter Pidgeon and Barry Sullivan (who was also awesome in the recently viewed Tension).  But it’s Douglas’s movie, and he’s a mad genius who takes no guff.  Hollywood is skewered from the inside by this expose sort of movie.  But it makes all the dirty backstage dealings seem sort of charming and exciting, anyway.  Gloria Grahame shows up briefly (somehow earning an Oscar for the part, which isn't much more than a glorified cameo) as a conniving, luxury hungry wife, and she’s quite good.

    Friday night, we all gathered at Robert’s place for a Barbeque and graphic novel club meeting.  We discussed Astonishing X-Men volumes revolving around the marriage of Northstar and his idiot boyfriend Kyle.  I was unable to read the whole assigned work for various reasons.  But as far as I made it, it was bloody awful.  I have come to hate the X-Men (and the Avengers right along side).  Just dreadful writing and awful characters.  Enough of this status quo maintaining mandated garbage.

Looks like Kyle read this garbage.

Valley of the Dragons:  I had never heard of this particular adaptation of a Jules Verne story, and I guess I can understand why.  It’s not especially interesting.  Still, I do love lost world stories.  And a lost world that is also on the Moon?  Cool.  Two big problems present themselves, however.  I don’t like when real animals are used as ‘dinosaurs.’  Partly, because they look terrible.  But mostly because I don’t like that so often it is clear that the animal was being mistreated to get the shot right.  No, I don’t think lizards have a great deal of mental capacity, nor are the self aware.  But needlessly causing pain to an animal, even to reptiles or insects seems barbaric and lacing in a degree of class.  The second problem is Rodan.  Yes, Rodan.  The giant kaiju from Japan seems to be flying around this moonscape.  I guess they had access to the footage and thought nobody would notice?  But I noticed.  Getting past that, the story of two rivals forced to work together on a hostile world is pretty good, and their adventures with the local population are nice.  The Neanderthals and whatever the heck the albino things were (Morlocks?) are especially disgusting.  Worth a watch if you’re into this sort of film, but not one to expend a great deal of effort tracking down.

    Saturday found me feeling pretty crappy, my weeks of not sleeping and stress finally catching up with me.  Some kind of cold or something.  Oh, boy.  I started going through my various con acquisitions and other sundry things that have been piling up of late.  In doing so, I read through three comics I got from local artist/writer Andy K.  Mind Games is a pretty gross little horror short.  The Secret Origin of John Elway is nuts.  And Neon Super Gladiator has a cool feel.  His stuff reminds me of something that might have been on Liquid Television back in the 90s.  Weird and uncomfortable.  I also read Jennifer Hachigian’s Pocket Editor Two, which she gave me because she liked my shirt (“Arthur Turing Fought Nazis With Science”).  It plays on that old video game thing with “All your base are belong to us” but manages to correct the grammar.  I flipped through super-nice guy Alex Fine’s Il Brutto, which re-imagines various movie characters as played by Charles Bronson.  And lastly, I looked through Sam Wolk’s Alpha Beasts and Alpha Bots, two collections of 26 drawings, each based on a letter (T is for Twiki, J is for Jersey Devil, etc.).  Quite cool.  I still have more stuff to get to, and some prints to frame.

    When I got home Friday night, I had a package waiting for me.  I keep forgetting that I’m a patron of the arts.  My old high school chum Serena Andrews is a musician and artist, and has a project she’s working on that involves a tour and a book.  I got some perks for my donation to the project, including a CD of music by Serena, which I listened to on Saturday afternoon.  Buried somewhere in the attic of my mother’s house is a cassette of Serena's music she put out back in the mid 90s.  I always liked her stuff, and still do.  It has a Tori Amos/Regina Spektor kind of thing going, with a bit of Kate Bush and Laurie Anderson.  All good in my book.

    And late Saturday night I picked up and finished the very short, but fun book Bright Young Things by Alison Maloney.  It’s a hand book for Roaring 20s living, with phrases, cocktails, party plans, and fashion, mixed with historic notes and cultural gossip of the time.  The book doesn’t go into a great deal of depth, but I think it would be a handy guide to have while reading fiction of the time (like The Great Gatsby), or history texts (like Flapper), or for those inclined, playing period roleplaying games (like Call of Cthulhu).  If you're looking for a sweet biscuit for barney-making, and you need to know if the bank's closed, this book ain't banana oil.  It's the elephant's instep, see.

-Matt