TV Review: Terra Nova

I watched the pilot for 'Terra Nova' and the bottom line is: I have so few new SF choices I'm going to keep watching it. If I start to actively DISLIKE it... well, I'm never going to run out of cartoons and sitcoms, am I?

Chicago 2147 AD, a world on the verge of environmental collapse. Humanity is cut off from the sun and the moon and uh, oxygen. Perhaps oxygen deprivation helps explain some truly bizarre choices in this culture. The Shannons, Jim & Elizabeth, are a cop and a doctor who break the two-child law. Already blessed with demographically appealing Josh (15) and Maddie (13) they have kept Zoe (3) hidden until our story begins with government jackboots. Jim fights the Man and earns 6 years in jail.

Two years later, an exciting action-packed break out from future prison, followed by an action-packed break-in to The Tenth Pilgrimage. You see, Elizabeth and her legal kids were invited, Jim and Zoe were NOT. It's a voyage through a fracture in space-time to Terra Nova: a human colony 85 million years in the past. So, I gotta ask: apart from wanting to show us Jim is bad-ass, WHY?

Why split up families? What kind of colony doesn't want breeders? Why crowd your jails if you can dump your problem citizens down a time hole?

Well, it's a colony with problems, to be sure, and despite the dinosaurs outside the gates, most of them are human. Commander Nathaniel Taylor gives a speech about how greed, war, and ignorance destroyed their home. Now that it's a brand new beginning, he and all the other gun-toting soldiers have a second chance. My hypocrisy sense is tingling.

So, a splinter group with a nebulous agenda from the Sixth Pilgrimage are up to something, and they started their own gun-toting colony with uh... with blackjack... and hookers! Our group call them Sixers. To keep them distinct from Slashers, which are dinosaurs with sort of a certain slash-y quality.

I should mention that 'Primeval' spoiled me on what CGI creatures on a TV budget can look like, and these look a little... well, primitive.

While I'm picking nits, I should point out that if smarty-pants Maddy's dialog is to be believed, then the basis for believing this is a separate timeline from theirs (thus safe to step on butterflies in), is down to the fact that nobody in 2149 has yet found an 85 MILLION YEAR OLD basketball-sized probe. That's a hell of a supposition. Hey, they looked for it almost a month. Things to do, man!

"Control the Past, Control the Future." No shit, Sixer. How about, Save the Cheerleader, Save the World?

I'm a complainer, but I'm watching episode 2. I notice Star Trek veterans Rene Echevarria & Brannon Braga wrote it. Worth it? Sure, why not?

*the works is a beating so intense you'll pray for death

Am I ill-informed, I ask myself?

Yes, I answer.

If you ask me when Jenny was cloned from the

10th Doctor in the Doctor Who episode "The Doctor's Daughter", I'd answer "Why, 6012, of course!" (Except I probably won't even have that same information available later on. I feel like even the useless sci-fi trivia I've jammed my mind with is fading faster all the time.)

But ask me real-world questions like when are Georgia Moffat & David Tennant to be wed, I haven't the slightest clue.

Thank goodness for Conan O'Brien! He's a talk-show host on TBS with fierce red hair and beard, a quick wit, and freakishly long legs he's fated to lose in the war of 2012.

In my early twenties I watched his show because I didn't sleep as much or as early. Enough so that I tended to see (or dream) hot sauce commercials where cowboys lasso big ol' floatin' heads.

But I've lost my thread here... CONAN! Yes, Conan's show on NBC was great fun but I lost touch over the years, and I'm glad to have rediscovered him in time to have seen him rendered by Warner Bros.' Bruce Timm as "official" DC superhero 'The Flaming C' (that's him below there, out- bearding Aquaman and looking all outlandish with his loafers, fishnets, jai alai glove and eternally-smoking oven mitt.)

You never quite know what to expect from Conan, and that's a rare commodity. Talking like a turn-of-the last century radio pitchman, prancing about in women's jeggings, or chasing Gary Busey with his name-emblazoned zeppelin, Conan O'Brien dances on my fun zone till I can't walk. Or something less filthy-sounding.

Thanks also to PVR, a device allowing me, a guy who sleeps at 9 PM, to watch Conan's comedy antics at my leisure. Often while choking over my dinner. With laughter! And with my lady wife. (She, granted, is better at setting the PVR and at all forms of technology, really.)

Thanks to Andy Richter as well, O'Brien's loveable compatriot (lovely picture on right). He's a swell actor and his TV shows get cancelled too fast. I like him SO much, he should probably have top billing over an inanimate device like my PVR. Too late!

Actually, I think all Conan's guests so far this year have been American, so the 'keeping me informed about UK celebrity gossip paradigm' off the top was pointless, really. And how 'real world' IS celebrity gossip anyway?

Don't care. If my argument was going to be that Conan was keeping me grounded and informed, I guess it's partly true. It's more important to me that I be edutained than educated anyway.

Plus I learned the Minty the Candy Cane song. (He briefly fell on the ground.)

And I got this fine image cap for my computer wallpaper:

What is truth, anyhoo? Is there in truthiness no beauty?

The Conan show is a succulent, juicy burger with the works.*

TV REVIEW: No Ordinary Family

The new TV season is underway with a vengeance and I'm glad I love me the sitcoms.  Because there are LOTS of them.  I really enjoyed 'Mike & Molly'.  'Better With You', 'Running Wilde', and 'Raising Hope' are also promising.  

Returning programs make me happy, too. I love 'Community', 'The Big Bang Theory', and 'How I Met Your Mother'.  I like 'The Middle', 'The Office', 'Modern Family', and '30 Rock'. Perhaps surprisingly, I think 'The Good Guys' is awesome.  I mean surprising because it's not sci-fi, and it's only fantasy in a 'this is total fantasy' sense.  Dan rules!

There's stuff that mattered less to me, and stuff I gave up on. I really don't recommend '$#*! My Dad Says'.

And yesterday, there was 'No Ordinary Family'.  The live-action 'The Incredibles' or 'Fantastic Four'.  (I know there was already a live-action Fantastic Four.  THIS was less compromised.) If this is genuinely Smallville's last season (Sweet Rao, let it be so, let my prayers be answered, release me from torment at last... yes, I'm still WATCHING it.  GEOFF JOHNS might write one this year!) then it's my latest shot at a GOOD superhero show.  (Yes, I was excited about 'Heroes' at first, too.  Sigh.)

'No Ordinary Family' is both well written and well acted, with unashamed super-powered folks and their mighty feats, a good sense of humor (VERY welcome) and interesting drama.

It's got Ben Grimm married to Darla the vampire only she's not a vampire; she runs really fast, and Conrad from 'Weeds' is not a pothead anymore, instead he's Ben Grimm's friend, plus one kid who's got mind powers and the other kid's got mind powers also!  Mind powers are INEXPENSIVE powers, folks.

I have no complaints whatsoever with the pilot and I hope it goes well. Which means it'll last half a season, go straight to DVD, earn another half season with zero budget and most of the cast missing, and vanish forever.  Still, it's got good reviews besides mine.

It's important to me that this show does well.   Writer Greg Berlanti is the screenwriter of the upcoming Green Lantern live-action movie with Ryan Reynolds and it would be nice for everyone if that wasn't a piece of garbage.

What I'm saying is check it out.  If you can see past the forest of excellent sitcoms and the drain clog that is everything else.

The Hugos: Fahrenheit 451

Um, sorry, folks. I swear it wasn't censorship. I just happened to forget to review the Hugo winning novel of 1954, Fahrenheit 451. Just file this in your individual libraries of Alexandria wedged between my February reviews of 'The Demolished Man(1953)' and 'They'd Rather Be Right(1955)'.
Or, if you're a Bradbury Fireman, burn the review and go back to watching TV.
Oh, now I'm just being whimsical. You can't burn computer data! Sheesh!
You may have noticed that I like 1950's SF. Four stars here and 3 stars there, all willy-nilly.
So here's a shocker: this one only got 2 stars out of 4.
And... (sigh) here's why. First, there's my enormous irrational contempt for classics. Does this book deserve the Hugo? Yes. Did the same year yield 'The Caves of Steel' by Asimov and 'Childhood's End' by Clarke, both FUNNER by a factor of four? Yes.
But F451 is a classic because its heavy-handed message is just as if not MORE important today: books are VERY damn important. And how can I not approve of that?
Second, Ray Bradbury. Sigh. I'm aware of his work. I've grudgingly sailed down the rivers of dandelion wine in 'The Martian Chronicles'. Boy, do I wish John Carter or Dejah Thoris had been there! So, not a big fan. But then again, I've barely touched Bradbury's stuff. So what do I know? (And one of those stars is for 'A Sound of Thunder', which was pretty awesome.)
Third, I just don't like any of the characters. Montag is a flatlined jerk, his boss is a two-faced ass, Montag's wife is a suicidal wreck and his potential mistress is disappeared before her perky optimism can get anybody interested in the proceedings.
Francois Truffaut (and I can actually feel myself slipping into a coma as I say his name) adapted this book into a movie in 1966, it's a fine adaptation in that it's monumentally dull, but the final shot IS extremely memorable, it's every inch a classic just like the book, and it was Hugo nominated also. You know what won instead? A classic in MY favorite sense of the word: Star Trek's 'The Menagerie'. You know: the one with the green dancing girl and the ape fights! Gotta love that cerebral stuff.

Here Is The News

Happy New Year! Just thought I'd review the state of our world for you and yours.
Since the Eugenics Wars, robotic uprisings, and population explosion of the 1990's, we've seen an increase in alien and paranormal activity, particularly in the troubling area of zombism. Still, we can breathe easier knowing that at least the vampire community are filling their nights with tepid romances instead of the more traditional human-eating.
The political map has been redrawn and redrawn again. Humanity has rallied, pulling itself away from American Idol long enough to gain the upper hand on our Ape overlords once more, but only time will truly tell who shall inherit the Earth. The smart money's on robots!
Yes, robots like the Colossus-Guardian-Unity supercomputer, subtly controlling us all from behind the scenes since the '70s. Like HAL 9000, still at large near Jupiter since his unexplained 2001 murder spree. Like Max Headroom, controlling the media on behalf of the Fox network since 2004. Or like that lovable Astro Boy.
Like it or lump it, robots are here to stay. But, God willing, they'll know their place like the XB-500 Rosey the robot maid, or 2005's NDR from NorthAm Robotics. Good, old, reliable robots and cyborgs keep our bustling society safe. Like Detroit's own Officer Alex "Robocop" Murphy, following in the footsteps of pioneering cyborg John "Inspector Gadget" Brown, and his loving companion, the G2 law enforcement robot, lobbying even now to have their marriage recognized in their home state of Ohio.
Yes, robots are everywhere, nowadays. They're much easier to find lately, since recently they seem to be coming back in time from a Skynet-controlled future at a rate of about one a week.
Even the Cybertronian presence has grown. Grown mainly louder, stupider, and slightly more racist.
Many races have fought for recognition this past decade, with limited success.
2002's Fabricated American marches and demonstrations failed to garner much attention. If only those guys weren't so short! And fuzzy!
The Tenctonese-Americans of Los Angeles were some of the most vocal opposition to the handling of Johannesburg's District 9. But lest we forget, most aliens are more like the Tetaldians & Dressites who recently laid waste to the Earth, and more significantly, Texas.
Look, if we want to hold on to our standard of living, with 100-story apartments on stilts, 2.5 children and talking dogs, we need to keep aliens out of the workforce! Chew on that, Sgt. Frog!
Not since the Isla Nublar debacle and L.A.'s drug-dealer debonings in the mid-nineties have we been so plagued by giant reptiles! The Cloverfield monster, the Han river creature, snakes on planes! Where will it end? There are even renewed reports of humanoid turtles practicing the martial arts and an insidious infestation of those singing chipmunks. At least Graboid activity has tapered off lately!
Internationally, London seems cursed with natural disasters, 2008's flooding, and a constant parade of alien invasion we've not seen the likes of since the '70's. Or possibly the '80's. Following the live world-wide broadcast of Prime Minister Saxon's assassination of U.S. President Winters, all we can do is pray for a respite for that beleagured nation. At least the Voldemort-related homicides have ended. For now!
In health news, the swine flu hit us all as hard as the pet flu that killed all the dogs and cats back in '83, and with the lightning speed of Captain Tripps flu which, if I recall correctly, killed 99% of the populace. There was even a second outbreak of the Andromeda Strain! Thankfully, it was subdued with the apparent involvement of at least one of the crack staff of Sacred Heart hospital. When asked for comment, Chief of Medicine Dr. Robert Kelso declared, "Get me a damn muffin, numbnuts."
We've all been struggling to get by since the EMP Pulse destroyed all the electricity last June, but we've come to rely on the dilligence of the hard-fighting, hard-drinking, hard-farting girl bike messengers with cat DNA who are taking up the slack. Chin up, ladies!
In weather, of course, Canada froze solid in 2004, and even Dennis Quaid couldn't save us.
Fortunately, various nuclear explosions and 2009's extinction-level solar flare helped heat things up again very nicely.
We were all reeling from the Timequake when the Flashforward hit. And we're still trying to make sense of it all. For my part, I experienced a moment from my own future when I appear to be typing an ire-filled blog review of 'Charlie's Angels III: The Legend of Charlie's Gold', which I still haven't got around to watching. And now, fearful of destiny, I find I don't want to anymore.
Most of us will remember planet Mondas' sudden appearance in our skies in 1986. It disappeared again just as mysteriously as the earlier devastating 'Wanderer' planet or the moon's brief 1999 excursions. But 2008's 26-planet-manifestation amid flying saucer bombardment really takes the biscuit! Astrologers have decided to just give up, probably.
And so many are still missing. Phillip Fry, Miles Monroe, Anthony 'Buck' Rogers, Jack Harkness, astronaut John Crichton, Dr. Nicolas Rush, Dr. Samuel Beckett, and of course the entire populace of Macross City.
Our prayers and continued good wishes go out to all of them, thanks to a generous grant from Digivation Industries, Omniconsumer Products, the Soylent Corporation, Stop And Drop Suicide Booths, Cogswell Cogs, Weyland-Yutani and all our friends at Veridian Dynamics.
Because they care. More than you do.
And, finally, as usual, only the Weekly World News noticed when Chubby, the world's fattest cat, saved Christmas.