As It Should Be

The Possible Astronaut

This is not so much a theory, but more what I would do if someone were stupid enough to let me write Doctor Who.

The TARDIS team are all worried about starting off a paradox, but there's already one in action and all of the Future-Doctor's manipulations are aimed at fixing it. The astronaut on the beach in 2011 is not the same one we see in 1969, and it's the Doctor himself under that helmet.

(This is a theory based entirely on that one scene where the Doctor puts on an astronaut helmet and claims it's what "cool aliens" would wear. I think this is foreshadowing from Moffat.)

So the Future-Doctor is, by a work of cosmic irony, a product of a paradoxical timeline caused by the TARDIS crew trying to save the Future-Doctor's life, and in order to stop the paradox, the Future-Doctor has to die. Who better to do that than the Doctor himself? After all, as River says in a different context, who would you trust above all else to undertake such a task?

(This is also more or less the plot of Donnie Darko, but anyone who's read The Time Traveller's Wife knows that Moffat is not above borrowing from other sources.)

I do wonder if it's River under that visor, and if her killing of Future-Doctor is what has her incarcerated in Storm Cage, but that little throwaway scene with the Doctor wearing the astronaut's helmet strikes me as significant, in much the same way as that bit in "Flesh and Stone" where the Doctor comes back to Amy shortly after leaving her in the forest and begins speaking to her out of context. I knew there was something off about that bit, and I was proved right; I think the helmet scene will be much the same, and if I'm right, it suggests that the Doctor strikes the killing blow.

Quickie Film Reviews: Red Cliff (2008)

John Woo finally remembers how to make a decent film, in doing so upstaging Peter Jackson's The Two Towers and The Return of the King, but also remembering to include the requisite fight-while-holding-a-baby, Mexican standoff, and unnecessary flurry of white doves.

Electropop Cowboy

You Got Some Lord of the Rings in My Thundercats

One of the more interesting things about the original was that the Thundercats were invaders from another world, and that Mumm-Ra sort of had a point in wanting them off his lawn, as it were.

Also, there's not nearly enough Panthro.

Sawbear

Nice Belt Buckle

In response to the Acrobatic Flea's post here:

Cap demonstrates the dangers of improper font choice.

Lobster Thermidor aux Crevettes

From the BBC News Technology page:

I can't tell if this is a random glitch, clever manipulation of deliberate page hits, or someone at the BBC having a laugh. Given that the volume dial on the iPlayer goes to eleven, I wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.

Carry On Fighting On

Fight On! -- the magazine of funny shaped dice and pretending to be elves -- has released its eleventh issue, and I'm in it.

Observant readers may notice that the image above is not my cover, but I did get the back, and I have a couple of other pieces in there. Doxy makes an appearance, of course.

If you also like funny-shaped dice and pretending to be an elf, you can order a copy -- in print or pdf -- from the link at the top of this post.

Death Note (2006)

Despite its popularity, I have never been tempted by the manga Death Note and its many spinoffs and adaptations; it seemed to be all goths and pretty boys, exactly the kind of manga I cannot get into. Lovefilm delivered the 2006 live action adaptation the other day, and I don't know how close it is to the source material, but it's really quite good.

Genius law student Light Yagami becomes disenchanted with the justice system when he discovers that many of the worst criminals get away with their crimes either through various technicalities, or a lack of confidence and courage from their accusers. It is then that he meets Ryuk, a god of death, who gives him the Death Note, a book with prophetic abilities; if a name is written in the book, then that person will die in whichever method is detailed by the writer, or a heart attack if left unspecified. Light sees this as an opportunity to restore justice to the world and sets about doing away with criminals. The police suspect that the deaths are no coincidence but can find no connection, so turn to another genius, L, so reclusive that he speaks to them through a laptop, his image hidden and his voice disguised. The bulk of the film details the battle between Light and L as they attempt to outmanoeuvre each other.

It's something of a cross between The Silence of the Lambs and that rash of US oddball-genius-solves-crimes shows, and on that level it's more than satisfying, with plenty of fun crunchy bits as we see the pair's plans to defeat each other play out step by step. That said, what impressed me most about the film, and where it has a surprising depth, is in the moral questions it asks.

It starts out as a bog-standard musing on vigilantism and the limits of the justice system, but as the story goes on, it gets more complicated as a result of how the characters develop. Light comes across as a cocky little git right from the start, although it's clear that he cares about people, and it's this combination that leads to his use of the Death Note; that would be enough characterisation for many scriptwriters, but they go further in this film -- I can't go into any details for fear of spoiling it -- and by the end, it asks the viewer some tough questions about their view of the protagonist.

This is all mirrored and somewhat inverted in secondary protagonist L; he's as clever as Light, but sees the investigation as a game to be won or a puzzle to be solved, and the larger question of right and wrong seems to be irrelevant to him. He also seems arrogant but it's less a sense of superiority and more like a detached distance, as he sees only patterns and numbers; he is quite happy to risk and even sacrifice people to draw out his quarry, again forcing the viewer to ask who they're rooting for in this tussle, and why.

For its part, Death Note doesn't provide answers. It presents two characters, each with merits and flaws and each tied into a number of difficult moral quandaries, and then rolls the credits. Like Princess Mononoke's intelligent examination of environmental issues, the film says that there are no easy answers, that life is too complicated, full of compromise and synthesis, and leaves the viewer to figure it all out. It's one of the most subtle, clever and philosophical films I've seen in a long time.

As such, one would think that Ryuk, larking about Light like a Sisters of Mercy version of Roger Rabbit, would spoil the whole thing, but the irony is that this black-clad god of death lends a light-hearted edge to the film. He hangs around as a buddy of sorts to Light, watching TV in his room and eating the family out of apples, and I have to admit that the character design is quite good. The cgi used to realise the character is a bit rough around the edges at times, but he's not in the film enough for it to be a major issue. His inclusion doesn't make the story any less grim or rob it of its depth, but it does rescue it from any possible danger of devolving into navel-gazing self-importance.

Death Note itself is only the first half of the story; a second film was released the same year, and that has now been pushed to the top of my rental list. We'll see how it compares.