Do Transporters Kill You And Copy You?

Every once in a while, I come across a website that talks about the way Star Trek (and some other misc sci-fi) transporters work. They often conclude that transporters actually work by disintegrating you, then making an exact copy at the destination. Which of course brings up a thousand other questions. If it were so easy to copy a person, why would people have to die at all? Why not just backup all your crew members every day like you do with any other data? Even disease, lost limbs, etc, could be cured through transporter use. Why kill the original crew member? Why not just send down a copy, have him complete the mission, then disintegrate him, without ever disintegrating the original on the ship?

Here's my opinion. Mind you, this explanation is silly and unscientific, but no more so than most Star Trek technology. Basically, in the Star Trek universe, they have discovered how to convert matter into energy and vice versa. The reason they aren't killing you is because it's the same energy particles being converted back into matter. So first the transporter changes you into energy particles, atom by atom. Then those particles are shot to another location (much like a phaser shoots a beam of energy), then those same particles are converted back into matter, atom by atom. If someone simply recorded your transporter pattern and made another you using any old energy, that would be a copy. But since it's the same particles being temporarily transformed from one state to another and back, it's still you.

This is supported a little bit by the fact that you can't beam through shields. You can still send data through shields; enemy ships often communicate with each other. If a transporter pattern were just normal data, you could send it to the other ship just like you send a communication signal. You can't shoot phasers through shields either. So, maybe transporters work more like phasers than communicators, in that they fire energy rather than just data.

In a few episodes, the crew members mention experiences they've had during transport. There was an early TNG episode where they did a "near-warp tranpsort", and a crew member mentioned feeling like they were in a nearby wall for a second. A much later episode had Barclay wrestling with monsters in the transporter stream. While these are some of the sillier examples of the way the writers have abused the technology, they do support the idea that the energy particles themselves are still alive and retain some aspect of the matter converted.

Also, they often beam straight to a remote location (rather than another transporter pad). To me, this means that when they start the conversion process, the conversion back is inevitable. Meaning, your body is turned into energy particles that are only meant to stay energy particles for a few seconds before they turn back. So it is your actual pattern being sent across space, not just data waiting to be reconverted from random energy particles at the destination.

Admittedly, one thing that doesn't fit is Thomas Riker. If they'd established that one was "real" and one was a copy, I'd be fine. But they seem to imply that both are 100% Riker. When they boosted the signal that split his pattern, they were adding non-Riker particles to the Riker particles, which means that either one is made from pure non-Riker energy, or each of them is now only x% Riker. Though perhaps, every time someone is transported, a few atoms are lost and replaced with those from random energy. But since your body replaces cells all the time anyway, it's no big loss. So right after the accident, both Rikers were only 50% Riker (more or less) for a while. But ever since then their bodies have been replacing their own skin cells, so the now each of them is closer to being 100% real.

Again, I admit this is all Insane Troll Logic. But to me it makes more sense than the Federation routinely using a system that involves killing people and copying them.

Give Me A Happy Ending...

We recently slogged through Torchwood: Miracle Day. For those who don't know, Torchwood is a depressingly pessimistic spin-off of Doctor Who.  DW has two spin-offs: The Sarah Jane Adventures is pretty much a children's show, that showcases the whimsical side of the Whoniverse.  Meanwhile, Torchwood is a more adult-oriented program with much darker themes. While Sarah Jane is off fighting rubber-suited space vultures, Torchwood's Jack Harkness generally encounters Baraka-like Weevils and other creatures you usually only see in horror movies.

But it's not the creatures Jack faces, but his decisions on how to deal with them that really make the show. Jack constantly finds himself stuck in "You must torture this puppy to death to save the Earth" type situations. His ability to make these difficult decisions is one of the character's defining characteristics. I really enjoyed the first season of Torchwood, but as the show went on, it just got more and more depressing. I don't want to post any spoilers here, but it seems like whenever they had the choice of either doing a clever plot twist or doing something cruel, and they always choose cruel. Part of me wants to declare that Miracle Day was the last straw, and declare I'm done with Torchwood.  But I really like Jack Harkness, and I'll probably still watch whatever sadistic plotline they put him in next.

Honestly, I just don't like sad endings. To me, this is what a story is, at its core: Someone is presented with a challenge, then overcomes it.  As far as I'm concerned, this is THE formula for writing. This is how the writer knows where to begin the story, where to put the rising action, the climax, the falling action, and so on. Without that, it's not a story, it's just a bunch of stuff that happens.

The writer's job is to come up with a difficult and interesting challenge, one worthy of the audience's time. The writer's next job is to come up with a solution to the challenge. If the writer succeeds on creating a challenge but fails on the solution, then they've only done half the work. It's like a joke without a punchline. If the hero of the story doesn't succeed, then it's like the writer is holding up a sign that says, "I suck at writing. I don't know the first thing about story structure. I managed to get as far as constructing a challenge, but I was too stupid to come up with a solution.  Pity me, criticize me, or instruct me; but under no circumstances bother to watch or read anything I have written. "

Oooh! But dark is edgy! It's new, it's hip, it's a cool twist! Give me a break. We've had tragedies since the dawn of writing.  Every time someone brings up how much they love the modern Battlestar Galactica, I end up having the same conversation. I tried to watch the show. I watched most of the first season, and while it was well-written, it was just too depressing. "But that's the beauty of it," they say. "Finally a show that doesn't stick to the super-happy Hollywood formula, where all problems are solved every episode."

I don't know, twenty years ago I might have agreed with that. When I was in high school, I'll admit I did go through a phase where I was sick of everything always having a happy ending. An entire childhood of nothing but happy endings made me want something different. But then I saw too many tragedies.

Which doesn't mean there was suddenly a rush of sad movies during that time. It's more likely that I expanded my own horizons. I got into horror movies. I started watching more anime instead of US cartoons. I watched Twilight Zone and Outer Limits, which featured often-tragic twist endings.  For a while I really got into the darker side of storytelling.  Heck, I still like these things when they're well-written.  It's when they're depressing for no reason that it really gets my hackles up.

Aliens had a somewhat happy ending. Sure, most of the characters died, but I liked the ones who lived. I remember wishing it would have another sequel, but even if it didn't, I was satisfied with how things had turned out. Then they had to screw it up with Alien 3. The entire movie, things just got more and more depressing for Ripley... until she died.  After Ripley found out she was hosting an alien embryo, we spent half the movie wondering how she was going to get out of it.  After all, no one had had successfully survived an alien pregnancy yet, so how is she going to do it?  That's the essence of drama - knowing the character is doomed.  A good author lets you think this every time, but then throws in a twist that allows the character to escape.  You know what would have been a great twist for Alien 3?  Finding a last-minute way to let Ripley survive.  You know what was a boring cop-out that showed the full extent of the author's lack of writing ability?  The way it really ended.

Or how about Candyman? I like horror movies, but I prefer the ones where the main character survives. It's their reward for all the hardships they go through in the movie. Otherwise, what's the point? Why did you show us this? So in Candyman, bad things just keep happening to the main character, things just keep getting worse and worse for her until the movie's climax - that would be the perfect time for her to turn it around, right? After all, that's what a story is, showing how someone gets over hardships, right? Nope, she dies. That's not entertainment. That's locking someone in a cage and poking them with a stick until you finally get bored and shoot them. Yes, tragedies have existed since the old Greek plays, but that doesn't they're always fun to watch today. Remember, those were the same people who invented the "Hand of God" and other silliness. Writing is supposed to have evolved since then.

And then there's The Mist, but I've already covered that one.  To sum up, a great movie was ruined by a silly punchline, turning the last two hours of your life into a sick joke.  I still love Frank Darabont, but he owes me for that one.

Okay, obviously I'm in the minority on this one, since depressing shows are so popular. Perhaps there's more sociopaths than there used to be, and they just like to watch characters suffer. Or maybe it's easier to count your own blessings when you're watching someone who's worse off than you are.  "It's more realistic," they say.  But I'm not so much into realism. When I watch TV/movies, it's escapism.  If I was into realism, I wouldn't watch movies about dragons and robots, I'd watch movies about applying for a home loan or getting an oil change.

I still consider Twilight Zone and Outer Limits to be top-notch fiction, because those tragedies at least show some clever writing.  A good writer can get away with a downer ending. There are times when that's the only way a story really can end. Sometimes that's the entire point of the story, and it would lose impact for it to end any other way. In general, only really good writers can get away with it. So unless your last name is Serling or Orwell, you're really just being pretentious. In my opinion, writing a sad ending is like wearing a T-shirt that says "I'm Awesome"... if you were truly awesome, you wouldn't need the T-shirt. And if you were actually a good writer, you wouldn't feel the need to stoop to "edgy".  Pessimistic authors are the whiny emo gothboys of the writing world.

So yeah, I'm a pretty weird human. I like sequels and remakes, I don't mind hype, I actually like the Star Wars prequels, and I now I reveal I don't like tragedies.  Perhaps I'm not anybody's target audience, but I have to believe I'm not the only one who feels this way.  The bottom line is, a sad ending is okay if the story demands it, but too many writers are writing sad endings for the wrong reasons.

Sequels

Consider this a sequel to my blog defending remakes. The hype blog fits too; it all goes under a larger veil of "If you don't want to see a movie, then save your money, but stop complaining that it was made in the first place. Don't ruin it for the people still want to see it." That in itself is a subset of the larger category, "Quit whining, you whiny whiner." Actually, I think a lot of my blogs could pretty much be summed up as, "Don't make me come over there."

I agree that 90% of sequels are crap. But I'll have to direct you to Sturgeon's Law: 90% of everything is crap. Think movies were better in the old days? Come on, have you watched MST3K? There's a simple reason it seems like classic movies were better: only the 10% that were good are still remembered.  Sequels are the same way; they pretty much have a 1 in 10 chance of being worth watching.  Therefore, the logical solution isn't to make fewer sequels, it's to make many many more sequels, to increase the odds that some of them are good.  You don't win the lottery by buying fewer tickets.

Most sequels suck for a reason. Original movies are often the result of a writer having an epiphany. Just like any other artist, he gets a grand vision that he needs to share with the world, then puts his blood and sweat into making it a reality. Meanwhile, sequels are often pushed by the marketing department, to cash in on a moneymaker. The plots are often contrived, because of the finality of the original movie's ending. Sometimes they cruelly unravel the "happily ever after" ending of the first movie. Large chunks of the plot might be the result of which actors were available. These are not the acts of a creative writer, these are the acts of someone trying desperately to squeeze out more story when there just isn't one to tell.

Even so, I like sequels. When a story is good, I just don't want it to end. Even if a sequel isn't very good, I like seeing my favorite characters again; it's like revisiting an old friend.  In the super hero genre, the second movie is often the best one of the series, since they don't spend half the movie telling the hero's origin. Without sequels, we wouldn't have The Empire Strikes Back, Evil Dead 2, Aliens, Spider-Man 2, Terminator 2, and The Dark Knight.

But even if I hated every sequel ever filmed, I'd still respect their right to get made. This attitude of, "I don't want to see it, so it shouldn't exist" is what really drives me crazy.  I like to think there's something for everyone.  Therefore, if you were to somehow block a sequel from getting released, you could be eliminating what might have become someone else's favorite movie.  All because you couldn't just ignore the film's existence.  Hey, I'm not particularly fond of your favorite movie either, shall I shove it through my existence-cancelling wormhole?  Let's see how you like it!

But I digress.  My point is... um... quit whining, you whiny whiner!  Now, bring on Titanic 2!

The "New" 52... I Was Promised A Reboot

I used to be an avid reader of DC comics. I read a few random issues of Superman as a kid, but I didn't really start reading until the Superman reboot in the 80s. It was a great time to get into the series. I got to see everyone's first appearance, both new villains and reinvented oldies. They also took the opportunity to tighten up Superman's abilities and explain them a bit better. The writing was better than it had ever been; the characters felt deeper. Sure, Superman was still the world's oldest boy scout, but he no longer felt so two-dimensional. More interaction with his parents made it clear why he was such a goody-goody.

Of course, comics are a gateway drug. At first I only read Superman, but then he would crossover with another hero, and I'd pick up a few issues of their comic to learn more about them. After a while I was buying more than a dozen titles, and I built up a large collection pretty quickly. But then I grew up.  Which is not to say I think comics are childish, it's just that I had less disposable income as an adult, and I couldn't always fit comics into the budget. My buying habits dwindled for a while, and eventually I stopped altogether. When I finally started making more money, I considered picking it up again, but too much time had passed. There were so many new characters and plotlines, I didn't want to have to sort it all out. There just wasn't a good entry point. The final nail in the coffin was when I sold my collection.

When I first heard about the 2011 DC reboot, I was somewhat excited. From what I'd read, they were rebooting the entire universe from scratch. New costumes! New characters! No more continuity snarls! I can finally pick up an issue of Batman without worrying about when such-and-such a character was introduced or keeping track of which heroes know Batman's secret identity. Then I saw this picture:

...and loved it.Superman's costume looks so much better without the red briefs. I'm not so sure about the collar, but it's a small thing. From what I've read, he's wearing some sort of Kryptonian battle armor.  It seems kind of weird that Superman would wear armor, when one of his most well-known powers is invulnerability.  But the suit looks so good, I don't really care.  It's not as pretty in some contexts, though.  I hate the way it looks on the cover of Superman #1, where he almost looks like a robot.  But it looks much better in the issue itself:

Left: Cover of Superman #1      Right: Inside the same issue

My only serious complaint is that several of the costumes look like they were designed by the same person. Aquaman, GL, and Supes all have the high collars.  Supes and Bats have similar segment joints in their body armor. Since all these people got their costumes from different places, it's weird that they look so much alike.   I'm very pleased with Wonder Woman.  I've always hated her costume, it was too patriotic. Why did she always look like Miss USA when she came from Themyscira? But her new one is great, especially the pants. I know their target audience is teen boys, but I still don't think every single female hero has to be about showing as much skin as possible.  Unfortunately, in her actual first issue she isn't wearing that costume; maybe she'll get it later.

I'm not really digging Clark Kent's new look... he kind of reminds me of Harry Potter.  They seem to be emphasizing his meekness, and making him more of a social outcast.  But it helps his secret identity, in my opinion, by making him look more like someone you would ignore.

Left: Younger Clark from Action Comics #1; Right: Adult Clark from Superman #1

What I would have done:
They didn't ask me (why does nobody ever ask me?), but I had my own ideas of what they should do with the reboot. I would have it split into two universes. Universe 1 would be the "Icons" or "Legends" line. Each series would start with the character's origin, bring them up to their iconic age, and then freeze them in time. Each hero would wear their most well-known costume. This universe would have plenty of crossovers, but not to the point where you'd have to read another hero's comic to understand what's going on. Most stories would be wrapped up in within the issue, and overall the Universe 1 would be more shallow than Universe 2. Very little would change over the years. U1 would also be more "all-ages" than U2, with simpler plots and more action than romance. In other words, when Timmy's grandmother stops by the store to pick him up an Aquaman comic, this is the comics line it should come from.

Universe 2 would be more interesting. U2 would be presented with the understanding that they'll probably reboot again in 30 years, and the stories would be presented in real time to some extent. So naturally they would start each hero as young as possible, so they wouldn't be geriatric by the time the next reboot came around. The first few issues of Superman would still show him as a child, but once the origin arc was over, he'd probably be about 18. Now, comic book time is a bit weird, and you can't really make each issue take place a month apart when a 3-issue story arc seems to all happen in the same day. However, they would still age relative to the year. So in 2011, Superman would be 18. In 2012, he would be 19, and so on. When they reboot again in 2041, Superman would be 48, though he might not look it thanks to his Kryptonian physiology. Unlike U1, the U2 comics would have all sorts of costume changes, cosmic events that change history, romances, weddings, pregnancies, deaths, rebirths, and all the other soap opera-esque elements we've come to tolerate.


What they really did:
Anyway, I'm rebooting the last two paragraphs because nothing like it came to pass. For starters, not everything was rebooted. Sure, DC relaunched with 52 titles that all say #1 on the cover, but most of them still rely on previous continuity. Worse yet, they're not even clear on how much of the previous continuity still happened. Also, not all the issues are happening at the same time.  For example, Action Comics is telling the new Superman's origin, while Superman is covering his current exploits.  I'm okay with that, since they might want to go back a few years to tell someone's origin story. But they're not really even doing that with most of them.

Superman's new origin doesn't start with Krypton exploding or baby Kal-El crashing to Earth; it starts with him as a young adult, when he first starts to make appearances as a super hero. Meanwhile, Batman starts out with sidekick Robin already being played by his son Damien Wayne. Batgirl has Barbara Gordon once again playing the title role, but events of The Killing Joke still happened (it says it happened 3 years ago, despite TKJ being released in 1988, but that's comic book time for you.). So Babs was still shot, but she got better, and her comic doesn't even tell you how she was healed. Supergirl is brand new again, making this the 437th version of the character.

It looked like a good time to start reading comics again, but after reading a few issues I was more confused than ever. I finally had to resort to Wikipedia to clear things up. As it turns out, this all follows the events of Flashpoint, the last universe-wide story arc of the pre-reboot continuity. In that story, several alternate realities merge, so that only certain parts of the DC universe are replaced with new versions of old characters, giving us the New 52. Kind of like the 2009 Star Trek movie, it's a rewriting of history that's still based on the previous canon.

So certain things just didn't happen... but it's not just that, other things must have happened instead. Okay, so nothing happened to Batman - he's so badass, even reboots can't touch him - but he has interacted with Superman in the previous continuity, which means now those interactions were either with the new version of Superman or didn't happen at all.  Hasn't Superman saved Batman's life before?  Would the new version of Superman have still been in the same place at the same time?  I feel like they're skipping a big chunk of rewritten content I'd like to see.

In some ways this is more cruel than if they had just rebooted. For example, Clark Kent's human parents are dead in the new continuity. Now, if it had been a full reboot, then I could imagine that the Kents are still alive in that alternate universe of pre-reboot continuity. But this isn't an alternate universe, it's the same universe, but where certain events have been overwritten. The Kents didn't just die, the final years of their lives were actually erased. Every death provkes sad thoughts of "what might have been", but in the Kents' case, it's a matter of "what actually happened, then later unhappened."

I am enjoying some of what I'm reading, but I feel like I need a master guide to see how it all fits together. After all this hype about DC starting fresh, even people ranting about them throwing out 20+ years of continuity, it turns out to be just another timeline-affecting event like Crisis or Zero Hour. I'm not mad or anything, I'm just disappointed that I'm not getting the reboot I was expecting.

Step on clutch, shift to second...
One thing that's starting to bother me is the sexism. I'm pretty middle-of-the-road on most subjects; on any particular issue I waffle just enough to offend people on both sides. My traditionalist friends would probably call me a feminist, but my feminist friends probably think I'm sexist. Anyway, not to get too preachy, but you should really read this article on the sexism in the DC reboot. I think it's spot-on, and I would love it every member of the DC staff were required to read it. If you can't be bothered to read the whole thing, this Shortpacked comic strip will give you the gist.

It is now the 21st century, and more women are into geekdom than ever before. Hobbies that were considered exclusively male when I was a kid (video games, D&D, sci-fi) now have a much higher percentage of female enthusiasts. This would be the perfect time to show a little enlightenment, and increase their readership. Sure, they might lose a few guys who were only buying the comics to look at cleavage (assuming anyone's actually done this since the invention of the internet), but they stand to gain a lot of female readers. Instead, it's like the writers are intentionally trying to keep girls from picking up comics. The comics are starting to remind me of those car magazines where every picture includes a bikini-clad model posing on the car.

I'm not offended by near-nudity (or even full nudity). I enjoy eye candy as much as the next guy. Heck, I'd be perfectly happy if DC would do a spin-off universe that was completely adults-only.  But this isn't about nixing eye-pleasing heroes, or removing sexuality from comics.  You can have all that stuff and still make a comic worth reading.  They just don't seem to be giving women any respect at all. I really don't understand why DC wants to ostracize a gender that comprises more than half the world's population.  Of course, Marvel's not any better; they have their own controversies (usually surrounding Mary Jane).

All that aside, I've always been angry at the lack of respect given to my favorite female heroes. It doesn't help that my faves are Batgirl and Supergirl, both gender-swapped spin-offs of more popular characters. But I can't help it, I've always loved them. So it seriously hurts me the way they've been killed, crippled, rebooted, and reinvented so many times over the years.  Superman and Batman have had the same secret identities (minus a few short vacations) for more than 70 years.  Why can't their distaff counterparts keep stable identities?  I could go off on a whole side-rant about the Women in Refrigerators trope, but it's been covered by plenty of bloggers better than I.

...and back into neutral...
Anyway, despite my own misconceptions about the reboot, and the off-putting sexism, I do like a lot of what I've read from the new reboot.  The Aquaman comic seemed particularly self-aware, with all sorts of jokes about him being the last superhero you would call for most emergencies, and people making fun of his fish communication powers.  I've never cared for Green Lantern, but the New Guardians (a team made up of one of each color lantern) looks interesting.  Teen Titans and Superboy (which tie in together very closely) both had me wanting the next issue to arrive sooner.  Detective Comics has a creepy cliffhanger involving the Joker, and you can guarantee I'll be checking out the conclusion.  Supergirl was decent, if a little too similar to her last "first appearance" in 2004.

So basically, I'm not sure if I'm going to keep reading, or just leave it alone.  I don't need the hassle of storing a large collection of comic books again, so I'm probably going to wait until some of the better storylines are collected and released as trade paperbacks.  It's sad that they couldn't have handled things just a little bit better.  They almost got me to start buying comics again.

Hate the Hype, Not The Hyped

Maybe it's because I don't watch a lot of TV these days, but I've been very fortunate about hype. I saw the trailer for Inception maybe twice before we saw the actual movie. I managed to watch the film and form my own opinion about it well before the hype train crashed through my living room.
The early reviews I read of Inception were great. Everyone called it creative, mind-blowing, intelligent, and so on. But as the days went on, I started seeing more and more reviews that called it over-hyped and not worthy of all the attention it was getting. In other words, these people listened to the hype and built the movie up to be the greatest film ever created, which of course it wasn't. I hate that kind of review, because it really doesn't review the movie itself; it only measures whether the movie lived up to the anticipation. These reviews also make the flawed assumption that everyone is going to experience the same amount of hype. That's obviously not going to be true, since different people watch different amounts of TV, and visit different web sites.

Back in 1994, a couple of friends of mine refused to see Forrest Gump because of the hype. They figured that since most people are idiots, anything that popular must suck. I agree with them about the idiots part, but even so, some things are popular simply because they deserve to be. Knowing these friends, they would have loved Forrest Gump if they could have seen it sans hype.  But they never gave it a chance.  That's how deep Hype Aversion runs for some people.

Heck, just a few weeks ago, a friend of mine complained about how much hype Titanic got when it came out. That was 14 years ago, are you not over it yet? Those wounds must run really deep. Were you bitten by a movie trailer when you were a child?

But when a movie is over-hyped, exactly who are you blaming? Are you sure it's the people who deserve it? In most cases, production and marketing are two different departments. You shouldn't blame the makers of Forrest Gump just because it was over-marketed. I doubt Robert Zemeckis himself was the one buying up ad time. Besides that, no matter how good a movie is, it's always the job of marketing to give a movie as much advertising as they think they can afford. So really you're just mad because the movie had a large advertising budget, which has nothing to do with how good the movie is.

Plus, a lot of the hype comes from the fans, not the studio. This is the information age. If a movie is good, people will talk about it. If you spend any time at all on the internet, you're going to hear about this movie 1000 times a day. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. It's one thing to "punish" an overly-advertised movie by not buying a ticket, but I've actually heard people complain about hype that came from non-funded sources, such as news articles, blogs, and online forums. Seriously? You're complaining because a movie was talked about? Should they only make movies that aren't worth talking about?

Don't get me wrong, I don't actually enjoy seeing the same commercials over and over. I don't like seeing the best scenes of the movie 100 times before I actually get to watch the whole thing. I don't want to sift through 50 posts on the same subject just to find a new topic on a message board. But none of these are reasons to judge the film itself. I try not to pay much attention to commercials, and I already disregard 90% of what I read on the internet. If a movie looks good, I'll see it. While I'm sitting in the theater, I don't give a moment's thought to what the internet thought of it. My advice - if you truly can't enjoy a movie for its own merits, and have to compare everything to the buzz around it, then sell your TV, stay off the internet, and see movies either on opening weekend or 10 years later.

Green Lantern

Green Lantern is not a particularly good movie. That said, I do think the critics are being a little hard on it. Everywhere I look, people are tearing it apart. One friend of a friend actually walked out. I'm sorry, but I just don't see where it was that bad. It's not brilliant, but what do you really want from a comic book movie? And this is a superhero who has powers from outer space, who uses a magic ring to conjure giant hands to punch people.  Most people knew this going in.  And yet, for some reason audiences were apparently expecting the gritty realism of The Dark Knight.

GL has never been one of my favorite super heroes. I don't like the "wish it and it will happen" nature of his powers. It's too much of a Deus Ex Machina - when you have a character that powerful, writers just don't have to work as hard. Heck, I don't even like the color green. So admittedly my expectations of the movie were low, and therefore easily met.  So for what it's worth, I thought the movie was a lot of fun.

There's a few minor spoilers ahead, so watch out.

Some of the reviewers complained about the special effects, but I thought they were beautiful. There were a couple of examples of Special Effect Failure - one of the Guardians of Oa looked like he was rendered on a Playstation 2, and Hal's head seemed to change size now and then compared to his costume - but overall I loved the look of the film. I recognized a lot of the other Lanterns from the comics and cartoons, and I was very impressed at how realistically they were able to render characters that looked impossibly silly in the other media. I loved GL's outfit. I know it was the subject of a lot of internet backlash when it was first revealed, but I think the end product was great. I loved how it seemed so alive, with little light pulses constantly running through the lines of the outfit, almost reminiscent of Tron.

Ryan Reynolds was perfectly cast. Some people don't like how he played the same immature jerk he always plays, but I personally believe that's how Hal Jordan is meant to be played. In the Golden Age of comics, a "man without fear" meant some square-jawed boy scout with a one-dimensional personality. But in the more realistic modern age, fearlessness means you're too cocky and smug to be afraid when you should be.

I was particularly impressed with Sinestro. Everything about him, down to the most subtle facial expression, was spot-on with how I always pictured him. I am a little disappointed, however, that they still called him "Sinestro".  Guardians, seriously, y'all are supposed to be some of the wisest creatures in the universe, but... his name is "Sinestro", you didn't see it coming? I was kind of hoping they would call him something else at first, and he would rename himself Sinestro once he got the yellow ring. Or at the very least, maybe they would give him a bit of backstory explaining how his name came to be.

With a power based on will, I was very afraid that the final confrontation would be some boring "Beam-O-War". You know what I mean, like in Harry Potter 4, when Harry and Voldemort have their wands locked. I was all set to see Hal shooting out a green ray, against an opponent's yellow ray, while both characters grunt a lot with the strain of their willpower, until Hal's finally wins out. I hate that kind of thing, as it's too easy to write, and not very satisfying on-screen. And then I heard that one of the villains was a cloud-like entity, and I was even more afraid. Having seen similar battles in Fantastic Four 2 and the first Hulk movie, I wasn't looking forward to such a vague battle. But the fights are actually pretty satisfying, with Hal using his powers in a lot of clever ways.

One of my favorite things in the movie was the lampshading of his so-called secret identity. Whenever Hal showed up with his little green mask on, I said to myself, "Oh, come on! There's know way they don't recognize him!" And I was right. Two people in the movie recognized him right off, not because he intentionally revealed his secret identity to them, but simply because they're not idiots.

I say this a lot, but I don't usually care whether a movie is bad or good, as long as it's not boring. Green Lantern did not bore me. But modern audiences must have higher standards than I do (and yet these are the same people keeping reality shows on the air). I think this goes back to my earlier blog about "All-Or-Nothing People": Since Green Lantern wasn't mind-blowingly excellent, then it sucked. People have lost the ability to rate a movie as "just okay". Unfortunately, "just okay" movies are some of my favorites.

Btw, I apologize for all the TVTropes links, but it's one of my favorite sites, and GL is a very tropey movie.