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Fenya had all 4 of her wisdom teeth removed under general anaesthetic on Friday, which, obviously,I suppose, put a few limitations on our household over the weekend in terms of meals, noise levels and family activities. She handled it like a trooper though, embracing a liquid diet, a gruelling medication schedule and near-constant ice-pack applications with very little in the way of complaint. By Sunday night, her disposition and wakefulness had improved to the point where she was comfortable watching Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I'm always up for rewatching this film (and Last Crusade, too! And the first 15 minutes of Temple of Doom, for that matter.), but a recent flurry of local billboards and bus shelter ads made it even more topical. In October, the Telus World of Science is hosting the travelling exhibit Indiana Jones and the Adventure of Archaeology, so it made sense to refresh ourselves on the source material prior to attending.

We're really looking forward to it, since we are not only fans of the film, but also appreciate the fact that the exhibit is being produced by the same people who made the surprisingly educational Star Wars: Identities tour we attended last year. Even better, Adventure of Archaeology is being presented by the National Geographic Society, and features exhibits from the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, otherwise known as the Penn Museum, so the content promises to be excellent as well.

Raiders is one of my favourite films as it remains one of the best examples of modern adventure, despite cloaking itself in the trappings of a classic matinee serial. Colourful characters, exotic locales, relentless pacing and a lively sense of humour make it a joy to re-watch, despite the very real likelihood that the title character has almost no effect whatsoever on the outcome of the story (as per The Big Bang Theory).

And sure enough, despite having seen it any number of times, I usually manage to notice something new when I see it again. I mean, I know R2-D2 and C-3PO can bee seen adoring the wall of the infamous Well of Souls, but I never noticed how often Harrison Ford (and only him) calls it "the Well of the Souls", which, for whatever reason, just doesn't sound quite as ominous.

I know when he meets the army intelligence men at the beginning of the film, he has a book containing an illustration of the Ark of the Covenant which he pops open to show them, and it is a big enough book that it requires a carrying handle and fasteners, so I don't question the presence of the picture. What I do question though, is what the hell book could that be, that a) is so enormous it can be mistaken for luggage, b) has an illustration of a religious artifact from three millennia ago in it, and c) would have it almost in the middle? Perhaps it is alphabetized by culture, and the Ark appears under H for Hebrew.

Most importantly though, where can I get one? Or at least one that looks like it?

We have the trilogy on DVD, not BluRay, but the resolution was still high enough that we could still see Paul Freeman (Indy's rival, Belloq) being a total professional during the scene where he convinces Dr. Jones that he won't blow up the ark, while completely ignoring a fly that crawls right onto his lip, if not fully into his mouth.

One of my favourite things about the movie though, is the brilliant way it handles the disposition of the eponymous, infamous, potentially world-changing artifact. I remember how disappointed I was the first time I watched Raiders, seeing the Ark locked into an anonymous, stencilled crate and wheeled into a warehouse where, presumably, it is never seen again. Being a lot older and (hopefully) a little wiser, I find this resolution satisfying on both a dramatic and a political level.

Dramatically, it closes the file and ends the story without needing to explain why we never heard of the Ark being used to guide the allies to victory in WWII, and makes the tale just that much more believable. Despite the supernatural and fantastic elements of the climax, the warehouse permits us to keep believing that the story of Raiders might really have happened, maybe. We know it didn't, of course, but a little suspension of disbelief goes a long way with us nerds.

Politically, I had never previously considered the wisdom and potential bravery shown by the two unnamed army intelligence officers. More short-sighted or selfish men would have taken advantage of either the tremendous historical significance of 'their' find (hey, after all, they paid for it!) to advance their careers. Misguided patriotism could have led them to believe that the superweapon presented by the ark could not only keep their country safe from Hitler's predations, but make the then-isolationist U.S. a superpower a decade ahead of schedule.

Surely they had superiors asking what had happened to the subject of a search shared by Hitler; certainly some Senator on an oversight committee somewhere was thinking a university in his constituency deserved to host such a famous relic. Were either of these men Jewish? Or Catholic? Did they struggle over the decision to mothball such an artifact? As war engulfed Europe, did they second-guess themselves? After Poland? After France? Following Pearl Harbor?

In the end, it hardly matters; our sense of wonder will be beaten by our innate cynicism three falls out of four, and knowing how hard it can be for for an entrenched bureaucracy to find something it hasn't actively tried to misplace leaves us fairly confident that this artifact will never be seen again. The Ark is not just lost, now; it's been filed. And this is nothing but good news for the rest of the world. Honestly, who would you trust with such power? The state? The church?

No, we can rest easy in the imaginary world where all of this actually transpired; 1-2 wise gentlemen (or possibly their superiors, but I doubt it) took appropriate action and secured the Ark of the Covenant in a numbered but unnamed box, and what do they get for their troubles and foresight? They get labelled as "bureaucratic fools" by a mercenary academic.

I think they deserved better, don't you?

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Vintage Items of the Picture Butte Elks Hall

We spent this past weekend in Picture Butte, a town of 1700 about 20 minutes drive north of Lethbridge. It wasn't a random choice, as Audrey's family (her mother's side, specifically) have their annual Oldenburger Family Reunion there every Labour Day, and we returned after an eight-year hiatus.

The reunion itself was even more enjoyable than I expected, with much time spent catching up, playing games, and enjoying large breakfasts and larger potlucks in the spacious hall.

Audrey's Uncle Bert is a member of the Benevolent & Protective Order of Elks, Lodge #268, in Picture Butte, and has booked their hall for the foreseeable future. It is a tremendous venue for such an event, as it has not only a large basement hall and kitchen, but also a grassy fenced-in enclosure large enough for a half-dozen fifth-wheel trailers, a camperized van, and a handful of tents.

The local lodge was founded in 1936, and the current hall was built in the 1950s. A couple of items in the lower hall caught my eye, the first being the vintage shuffleboard table.

Given the number of small children about, it was probably just as well the pucks were stowed away, but I was still fascinated by the workings and typefaces of the scoreboard, as well as the coin box, designed to safely stow the dime needed for one game's worth of scoring.

The other neat feature is this old safe, set into the wall by the doors leading out into the compound.

Now, given the various events the Elks can end up being responsible for, it makes a certain amount of sense for them to have something secure for cash or other valuables, but this seemed a bit much, so I asked Bert about it.

It turns out the safe came from the local feed mill when It closed down in the 1950s. The mill owners were going to throw it out, but let the Elks take it for next to nothing. Judging from the Ford Garage monicker, it appears the B.P.O.E. may be the third owners, and likely the last.

"The tumblers are getting so worn down now," said Bert, "that you have to open it by feel."

"Like a safecracker?" I asked.

"Pretty much," he grinned. "There's only two or three guys who can actually open it now. I know the combination, but I can't open the thing."

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Hogshead Brewing: The Joy of Discovery

Last night's family activities included a brief trek into St. Albert to register Glory for this year's Irish dance lessons. Her instructor Lori just opened up her own studio (St. Albert Irish Dance Studio) just down the street in the Riel Industrial Park from where she was previously.

 

The Rayborn Crescent address twigged my memory, so I checked the internet to be sure; a-ha! Hogshead Brewing has their brewery and growler bar on the very same street, right next door as it turned out.

 

I took the opportunity to ride in, and while Audrey and Glory got situated in Scoil Rince Mahony's new digs, I took my growler (a refillable 64 oz. brown glass jug) to the unassuming garage-looking bunker with the boar's-head logo on the awning and stepped inside.

 

They've made the most of a cozy space, with couches, tall tables and a bar. Some friends from church were there having dinner with some flights of beers and informed me the food was excellent, and the menu certainly looked appetizing.

 

The server was only too happy to let me sample 3-4 beers from their lineup, which includes not only Hogshead's IPA centric line, but also Roughneck Beers (which I am not too familiar with) and Amber's Brewing, formerly of Edmonton, and crafters of my beloved Sap Vampire Maple Lager, as well as the Australian Mountain Pepper Berry.

 

I've tried Hogshead's Baby Back Hops and quite liked it, and will eventually get a growler of their far sharper HopSlayer IPA, but I wasn't in the mood for that much bitterness, so I ended up getting their Lemonhead, a reddish beer with fairly intense lemon and tea flavours. Not as smooth as Mill Street's Lemon Tea Beer, with the lemon adding an almost acrid bitterness, but if you like citrus, it is a good find. Next time I may try the HopSlayer, or perhaps their Oatmeal IPA.

 

Best of all though, a growler refill is only $10, giving you 4 x 16 oz. servings for $2.50 apiece!

 

The last couple of times I had tried Sap Vampire, I was a little disappointed; the first time the beer was fairly flat, with barely any carbonation, and the second time the sour overpowered the sweet of the maple to such a degree I couldn't even finish it (shocking, yes?). With some trepidation, I bought a sample size of perhaps 2-3 oz. for $1, and was delighted to find something much closer to the smooth lager with the maple finish I fell in love with originally.

 

If you should find yourself in St. Albert and needing a bite or a brew, I suggest heading into the industrial park and seeking out Hogshead Brewing; I'll certainly be heading back!

 

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Marvel-ous Cosmic Laughs - Rocket Raccoon & Groot Steal the Galaxy, Reviewed

In a an unprecedented but hardly surprising move, Marvel has timed the release of their first in-house prose novel to their immensely successful cinematic space opera, Guardians of the Galaxy. When you consider that they could have featured Captain America, Iron Man or even Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., It's funny to think that when the book was announced back in February, much of the public had not yet heard of either Rocket Raccoon or Groot.

Obviously this is no longer the case.

With a stable of both established and up and coming writers to draw upon for the task, it was gratifying to me that Marvel chose to tap Dan Abnett for this inaugural novel. Abnett, along with co-writer Andy Lanning, coordinated almost all the Marvel Comics space based properties from 2008-2010, and is as responsible as anyone for both the character line-up and tone used in the Guardians of the Galaxy movie.

I've been a big fan of Abnett's since the the mid-nineties, when he began writing a series of short stories and then novels for Games Workshop featuring an Imperial Guard regiment called Gaunt's Ghosts. He is an incredibly prolific writer who has written for everything from the children's Mr. Men books to the Legion of Superheroes comics. Abnett's knack for military science-fiction extends into a lot of his comics work, especially in books like Nova or GotG, but his fantastic visual sense and appreciation for the scope and scale of space based drama make him an excellent candidate for Rocket Raccon & Groot Steal the Galaxy.

The book is set at some point in the comics continuity rather than the Marvel Cinematic Universe, although there are a couple of nods to the latter, such as the keen, star-shaped spacecraft the Nova Corps fly in, as opposed to their being largely self-propelled in the comics. Also, [COMICS SPOILER ca. 2008], the Xandarian homeworld of the Corps still exists, like in the movie, but the Worldmind of Xandar has a role as well, so it is difficult (and probably ill-advised) to determine precisely when and where the story takes place.

The narrative refers to the Guardians team being 'on hiatus', which is why Rocket and Groot find themselves with the keys and papers to a sub-compact jump-freighter and frequenting a seedy bar looking for someone on which to unload "between forty-seven and forty-nine tons of fresh zunks".

As is so often the case in such circumstances (and such drinking establishments), Fate intervenes, putting our heroes in the midst of a battle to secure an android; to be specific, a Rigellian Recorder, a not unfamiliar sight in the Marvel Universe. Impartial observers of an advanced it cautious interstellar society, Recorders are excellent conduits for important exposition that also make excellent straight-men, as shown most deftly in Bob Layton's Hercules stories.

This particular Recorder, however, is carrying special knowledge he cannot access, part of a devious plan for galactic domination, which has two effects: the first is that it makes him incredibly valuable to a number of powerful parties, including, but not limited to: the Kree Stellar Empire; a Badoon War Brotherhood; the Alpha Centauri mega-corporation called Timely Inc. and their covert agent, a disenfranchised Galadoran spaceknight (like Rom!); and the lord of the Negative Zone, Annihilus, and his proxy, Gamora (!). Before too long, the recorder will also be pursued by the Nova Corps and elements of the Shi'Ar Imperial Guard, with Rocket and Groot along to see if any financial gain can be had from their association.

(The Imperial Guard are an interesting addition to the tale, since they originated in the pages of the X-Men back in the '70s, and are, for all intents and purposes, a Marvel analogue to DC's Legion of Superheroes. My interest stems from a) Abnett having written quite a few Legion stories back in the grim and gritty '90s, and b) the Marvel Cinematic Universe being unable to use the Shi'Ar since Fox owns all things X-Men,

The second effect is that this knowledge gap has made Recorder 127 behave in a very erratic and eccentric manner, described on the book jacket as 'about as sane as a sandwich with no mustard', and since he also serves as the primary narrator of the tale, this makes for some entertaining insights, such as his initial description of Rocket:

He is very much less than a human meter tall. His coat is glossy and in wonderful condition. His spectacular tail is bouffant. He walks upright in a way that makes the human in you want to exclaim, "Lookit the little man! Lookit! Walking on his back paws! Ooooaww!"

Do not do that. Ever. If you do that, he will shoot you to death as many times as necessary.

...

And then there's the hands. Look, this is the thing. I can't get past it. Rocket's hands...they're so disconcertingly human. It's uncanny (not in the mutant sense, obviously. Mutants are uncanny in an entirely different way). It's amazing, astonishing, astounding, incredible, adjective-less...okay, it's just distressing. Rocket Raccoon's hands are disconcertingly human in the most distressing way.

Let's think about something else for a moment, because the hands thing is creeping me out a little bit.

Narration duties slide between multiple perspectives and from first to third person, but the humour is never lost. Fans of Weird Al's recent business catchphrase anthem "Mission Statement" will no doubt appreciate some of the dialogue that comes out of the diabolical HQ of Timely Inc.:

"As you know, Timely Inc. leads the way in innovationized development to make all of its products optimized for maximum market-agreementabilization. It's our core philosophy. We want to resolutionate the lives of all our purchase benefactors and redactify the problemistic areas of their day-to-day existence experience with synergistic solutionoids."

(The first 21 pages of the book can be read online at Marvel.com, if you are so inclined.)

Obviously, I was predisposed to enjoy the book as a rollicking space adventure, but I was unprepared for exactly how much humor Abnett was able to bring to the fore in this novel; in fact, it is probably going to draw favourable comparisons to the high water mark of sci-fi comedy, Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Sure, there is an overwrought description of Rocket's favourite cocktail (the Timothy) somewhat reminiscent of the pan-galactic gargle blaster, but consider this description of the device Timely Inc. gives the former spaceknight Roamer to find Recorder 127:

"It's essentially a teleport device," replied Gruntgrill, "but it operates off tachyon-state temporal energies. It contains a multi-phase destiny generator, totally experimental, that, once triggered, calibrates the causal nature of reality, recognizes the pathways of the Universe in terms of satisfying dramatic progressions, and deposits the user at..."

"At what?" Asked Hanxchamp.

"Well, sir," said Gruntgrill, "in theory, exactly the right place in time and space to effect the greatest dramatic consequence. It assesses universal life as a story, and places the user in precisely the right moment to influence that story."

As if the concept of machine-driven intentional coincidence is insufficient, Abnett not only uses the Interpolation Inserter to keep the story at a satisfactorily farce-like pace, but also to make incisive insights about its user and his motivations in a surprisingly sensible manner. Certainly a worthy successor to Hitchhiker's Infinite Improbability Drive!

I'll level with you, I've actually fallen out of book reading for a while now, having read only one dead-tree novel in the past year or so. I've done plenty of reading, but it's been largely online articles, short stories, magazines, and scads of comic books on the iPad rather than the backlog of actual factual books accumulating on my nightstand. Picking up Rocket Raccoon & Groot Steal the Galaxy was a means of getting me back in the habit of proper page turning, and I couldn't have made a better choice.

Abnett's tremendous descriptive ability, his innate familiarity with the Cosmic side of the Marvel Universe, his quirky and playful sense of humour, and his enviable command and use of language made this book a real treat to read, and I often found myself reading the more amusing portions aloud to my family (who, of course, now know and love the main characters thanks to the movie). Abnett's knack for crackling dialogue makes it continually surprising to me that he hasn't transitioned to screenwriting, but who knows, maybe they will adapt this novel as an animated feature.

Complications get resolved in often violent but occasionally creative ways, such as when Recorder 127 uses his knowledge of legal process to circumvent an arrest by Nova Corps Centurions, lamenting afterwards that he has no briefcase to close when departing. Or that he doesn't look more like Matthew McConaughey. The large and species-diverse cast of characters behave in a manner consistent with their goals and allegiances, except when they don't, with the exceptions being entertaining and insightful. Most of all, the entire novel positively revels in the insanity of its circumstances, and delights the reader as it does so.

It's a light read, to be sure, but I can give Rocket Raccoon and Groot Steal the Galaxy my unequivocal (but disconcertingly human) thumbs up.

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Spirit v. Letter: The Eternal Struggle

Of all the ways in which people show flaws in their character, one of the most telling is the way in which they interpret rules and standards, both on the tabletop and in the wider world.

 

This is most obvious in gaming, of course. I still remember playing Battletech with a couple of friends in university and someone I hadn't met before. We introduced ourselves, decided on tonnages and set about choosing our 'mechs.

 

Battletech was a game we played a lot in the late 80s and early 90s, not just because it had a great science-fiction setting that made giant robots fighting each other seem entirely sensible, but because it was tremendously well balanced; the weight or tonnage of the 'mechs worked like currency, so as long as each side weighed the same, the forces could be considered even.

 

The four of us picked our vehicles, set up on the edges of the map board, rolled dice for initiative and got into it straight away. I can't recall what I was driving, something in the 50-60 ton range I think (perhaps a Griffon, as I had a decently painted miniature for that one), so I strode after the new guy's mech, a 30 ton Panther. It was more nimble than I, and packed a 2-shot short range missile launcher in addition to an arm-mounted particle cannon, but was very lightly armoured. It was worth over-extending myself in order to draw first blood, and if I didn't incapacitate him, I could probably survive long enough to disengage.

A turn later, I used my Griffon's jump jets to get the drop on him and unloaded my auto cannon and long range missiles. My accuracy was typically average, and although I damaged the Panther, it was all superficial, and after I was done rolling my dice, he returned fire.

 

I was prepared for the PPC, which stripped ten points of armor off my mech's torso, but as my new opponent prepared to roll the dice for his SRM-2, he casually announced that he was launching inferno missiles instead of regular munitions.

 

"Wait, inferno missiles?" I asked, confused.

 

"Yeah, they're like napalm and increase your heat-"

 

"I know what they are," I interrupted, "but they are an infantry weapon. There are no rules for using them in a 'mech."

 

"Sure," he rebutted, "but the infantry SRM-2 has the exact same stats."

 

My head spun. "Okay, but in the text where they introduced the infernos, they specifically mention how they are too dangerous and unstable to be packed around in a battlemech, and how it would almost never happen."

 

"Almost never..." he replied.

 

Clearly, this application of logic and sportsmanship was futile in the eyes of someone who would play for any advantage not explicitly prohibited in the rules. Rather than delay the game any further, we conceded the point, and the combination of my weapons fire, jump jets, and incendiary missiles pushed my Griffon's heat to a point where it impeded both my movement and aim. I don't actually recall which side actually won the game, but I do know it was the last time I ever played that particular individual.

 

Working for Games Workshop and adjudicating games of Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000 at tournaments and game nights exposed me to still more people like this, immediately recognizable by their rallying cry of, "Well, the rules don't say I can't do it!"

 

In the long term though, at least in gaming, the problem tends to sort itself out, as the win-at-all-costs crew unerringly gravitate towards each other and commence alpha-nerding the living hell out of each other's armies while those of us who Iike to win but don't need to win have substantially more fun.

 

It's disappointing to see similar themes play out in arenas like politics, whether you are talking about attack ads running well before an election has even been called, or the recent issue with an Alberta PC leadership candidate buying party memberships on behalf of those who intend to vote for him.

 

Jim Prentice's campaign initially denied that this was happening, and then he himself later clarified that, yes, his campaign was in fact paying the $5 fee for party memberships for his supporters, and furthermore, there was nothing wrong with this.

 

Both of his opponents, Thomas Lukaszuk and Ric McIver took exception to this and got a couple of good sound bites out of it:

"If the price is simply incidental, and you can give them out for free, I might as well have a sale next week — Tuesday madness, PC memberships two for one. But that’s not the intention, that’s not what is supposed to be going on," he said.

"Let him do what he believes he can get away with. I will continue to do it the way I believe it was intended to be." - MLA and PC Leadership candidate Thomas Lukaszuk

 

In the end though, party officials shrugged their shoulders and admitted that there was nothing in the rules prohibiting such actions, although they are frowned upon, and historically have not been pursued because of this. It is likely that the next convention will introduce some new rule or bylaw to prohibit this in the future, but since it is not currently against the rules, Mr. Prentice will continue to extend his lead by purchasing his leadership votes for $5 a pop. It's a pretty good deal, when you stop to think about it, especIally when the winner of this particular game will be the next Premier of Alberta, even if he doesn't have a seat in the legislature to start out with!

 

Now, I should say here that I do not have a dog in this fight; I am not a member of any political party and don't have any particularly feelings, fair or foul, towards any of the three candidates. After all, it's not like there has been a televised debate, or public comparison of their various platforms and policies or anything like that to help me form an opinion.

 

I will say, though, that it makes a very poor impression on me to have the leading candidate's first real opportunity to display his character be the unfurling of a familiar banner that reads, "THE RULES DON'T SAY I CAN'T".

 

Could such a brazen assertion impede Mr. Prentice's slide into home plate and his anticipated coronation? Tough to say, but a bunch of political pundits and bloggers are speculating that way, and The Globe & Mail seems to think so too.

 

We will know in three weeks when the votes, free-range and paid for alike, get counted up. In the meantime, be choosy about who you play with, and you will be happier in the long run, I promise.

 

 

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Korustura - Cantilon Chamber Choir Tour 2014

There are a lot of ways to measure the success of a youth choir's international tour:

• Did all the choristers make it back?
• Were they largely intact?
• Did all the chaperones survive?
• Are there any outstanding warrants we need to be aware of?
• Did anyone get any new tattoos this time?
• Is everyone still talking to one another?
• How did they do in competition?

 

When we met Fenya at the airport last Wednesday, we expected some tears and red eyes from her and the other members of the Cantilon Chamber Choir, but we didn't realize that almost everyone on tour had gotten sick with a cold or similar illness at one point. Fenya herself was suffering from a nasty sinus cold that 4 days later is only now beginning to slacken its grip. Other singers suffered various afflictions ranging from 'tour tummy' to at least one case of conjunctivitis, but nothing so serious it couldn't be dealt with by the nurse and pharmacist among the chaperones,

 

Despite the number of historic learning opportunities and chances to perform in amazing venues, the tour was largely focused on the contest at the end: The Bela Bartok International Choir Competition in Debrecen, Hungary. Over a dozen highly talented young choirs from all over the world went head to head with their best material, hoping to impress the judges with their tone, inflection and mastery of choral music from a variety of cultures and periods.

 

Reading the tour blog entries posted by the choir director and her tour director husband, I knew the competition would be impressive, but I had no idea just how much:

Two of the choirs in our class are from Hungarian music schools. These are specialized schools whose students are generally selected as young as 5 or 6 for exceptional musical ability. They are taught one or two instruments, they sing every day, they are instructed in music theory and history and ear training with a curriculum unlike anything North America knows. And our little group of amazing young singers went toe-to-toe with them. I feel so very proud of each and every one of them! - Heather Johnson, Cantilon's Artistic Director

 

But it was good to see that our young people could keep their spirits up under trying conditions and hold their own against such august contenders:

Now please allow me a to sidetrack a little here. Something that perhaps not many of you know about me is that it takes a lot to impress me. And I mean a lot. Part of this is simply in my nature, and I attribute some of this to growing up in a perfectly normal family, complete with playing sports, tons of activities and traveling (hence my fondness of adventure). And both my parents just happen to be blind. But most everything in my life is perfectly normal otherwise, but I have to admit, my parents have set a VERY high bar for feats that I find impressive. The way these choristers behave on tour, some tired more than they have ever experienced, or arriving at an almost empty venue and STILL putting on their "game faces" and performing admirably, impresses me. You have heard it before from Heather I’m sure, but this is one remarkable group of teens and young adults. From the way they behave, to their interactions and care for one another is, simply put, impressive. I’ve mentioned a few times to Heather that her choristers are not typical teens, but rather great human beings (I can say this as I have taught and interacted with my fair share of young adults in various settings). - Steven Turgeon, Tour Director (and Heather's husband)

 

In the end, though, there can only be one winner, and this was not Cantilon's year; despite their illnesses (one lad actually had to be told to sit onstage during a performance, and still managed to stand and join in the final number) and other challenges, they ended up earning second place to a Hungarian choir.

(FYI, a first place finish requires a minimum of 85 points, which you can see they missed my only 0.3!)

 

An impressive result, but even more impressive was the fact that they immediately came to their feet in a standing ovation for the victorious choir when they were announced; I would like to believe I had that sort of composure and sportsmanship at that age, but I sincerely doubt it.

 

In the end, I am just as proud (albeit a little sad!) at this group's ability to contend with courage and accept second place with dignity and grace as I would have been with a gold medal finish. Fenya returned safe and sound, disappointed with the results but pleased with their efforts, and enriched by the experience; a tremendous success by any reasonable measure.

Cantilon has their own YouTube channel, but I am including two selections here: their Musical Sacra component and their performance from the finals. Between the two, I think they showcase not only the determination of these talented and dedicated young people, but also the tremendous quality of singing that results from it, duly amplified by the acoustics of an ancient European church.

 

 

 

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Faithful Irreverence - Guardians of the Galaxy Reviewed

Many people were incredulous when Marvel Studios announced their tenth comic book adaptation. Titles like Doctor Strange, Ant-Man, Black Panther and Captain Marvel had been bandied about, Kevin Feige and company opted for a far more unconventional choice: a 'cosmic' (i.e. space-based) third-tier team book rebooted in 2008 called Guardians of the Galaxy. Led by Peter 'Star Lord' Quill, a character who has himself been rebooted on two separate occasions, the team featured a number of lesser known creations, including Drax The Destroyer (also rebooted), Gamora, the daughter of Thanos, Rocket Raccoon (who actually had his own mini-series back in the 80s), and Groot, a sentient, mobile tree-being with an extremely limited vocabulary.

Many thought Marvel had lost the plot with this choice, especially with so many conventional superheroes yet to be brought to the silver screen. Myself, having read and greatly enjoyed the entirety of Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning's Cosmic run from about 2008-2011,which includes 24 issues of Guardians of the Galaxy, thought I saw what the studio was shooting for: shatter everyone's expectations by moving away from terrestrial 'tights and fights' to the limitless canvas of the stars, and in so doing, prove that Marvel Studios is capable of making whatever film they want. With a new Star Wars film still a couple of years away, the movie-going public could respond very favourably to a fun, colourful space adventure, if it was done properly.

Which, for my money, it most certainly does; Guardians of the Galaxy is probably the most fun I have had at a space opera since I was nine years old and saw Star Wars for the first time.

The story is remarkably straightforward, centering around a looted Macguffin found by Earth-born but space-raised Quill at the start of the movie, and after having to defend himself against an assassin trying to recover it, two bounty hunters and the Xandarian Nova Corps (sadly, just space cops in this film, none of the gravimetric super powers from the comics!), even he admits this Orb has a 'Maltese Falcon/Ark of the Covenant sort of vibe about it.'

The Orb is coveted by Marvel uber-villain Thanos, and ends up tying itself fairly neatly into the storyline from the preceding Marvel movies, and leaving a loose thread that could potentially run through most of the Marvel 'Phase 2' movies and be woven into the third Avengers movie. Despite this though, the story still has more than enough internal consistency even if you don't give a hang about any of the larger continuity.

Meanwhile, Quill's estranged adoptive alien dad Yondu and his gang of Ravagers also wants the Orb. Played with casual, humorous and red-neck tinged menace by the ever-reliable Michael Rooker, he also brings an amoral, piratical charm to the proceedings as a colourful wild card.

Having a decent plot to hang the movie on is good, but great characters are even better. As a gorgeous, lethal assassin, Zoe Saldana has the hardest time differentiating Gamora from the femmes fatale that have preceded her, but does so in some of the quieter moments with Chris Pratt's Star Lord. Pratt himself has a reputation for great comedic chops and fantastic timing, but wears the role of roguish hero with a tragic past surprisingly well. The biggest surprise for me was how much I enjoyed the performance of former cage fighter Dave Bautista as Drax, an extra-strong, super tough creature bent solely on revenge. Big, green, muscular and enraged, it would have been all too easy to set him up as a compact Hulk, but giving him some wonderful straight lines as an alien literalist makes for some amusing exchanges:

Rocket: Metaphors go right over his head.
Drax: NOTHING goes over my head! My reflexes are much too fast. I would catch it.

Let's be clear, here: Bautista is no Olivier, but he does extremely well with what he is given to work with.

Meanwhile, two of my favourite characters from the ensemble are actually computer generated (ah, how far we've come from Jar-Jar!), but backed up by very capable voice acting. Vin Diesel essentially reprises his voice as The Iron Giant as tree-man Groot, but has to work almost exclusively within the constraints of a single line: "I am Groot." Bradley Cooper (recently seen earning an Oscar nomination in American Hustle) plays Rocket Raccoon with a quite a bit bigger chip on his shoulder than you see in the comics, but suits the overall theme of damaged people (er, and animals and plants) slowly coming together to help one another. The CGI is of phenomenal quality, with an extreme close up of Rocket not only showing his individual hairs and whiskers, but also tears welling up in his eyes.

Yes, you read that correctly; this $170M, special effects laden, virtually unknown comic book flick has a tremendous amount of heart, and handles emotional themes like Drax's single-mindedness, and Quill's parental issues, and Rocket's feelings of inadequacy with surprising deftness and sincerity. Director James Gunn has fulfilled the Marvel Studios remit that viewers must care about how much their heroes can hurt before seeing how hard they can hit.

Best of all though, Gunn has made space adventure fun again. Sure, there is an evil villain bent on destroying a world of innocents (Lee Pace as Ronan the Accuser), and there are some darker elements like the mining colony built in a Celestial's giant head and the dangers of prison life, but there are also nimble spaceships and colourful aliens and the planet Xandar which finally brings a bright, Technicolor palette back to sci-fi pictures. But most importantly, there's a reluctant hero and a gorgeous killer and a maniac with a lesson to learn and a dangerous raccoon and a compassionate tree-man, all showing different kinds of courage and heroism, and making us laugh uproariously a bunch of times while doing it.

The dialogue is crisp, smart and fast-flowing, the visual gags are well done, and the film basks in its inherent silliness, but never resorts to spoofing itself. The action is clearly filmed and imaginative, and like all the Marvel films to date, is tremendously well paced,so there is not a lot of time for a bathroom visit if you drank a large soda while waiting to get in. There is not too much in terms of gore or terribly frightening scenes for younger viewers, but the language is a bit saltier than most of the other Marvel features, although It is fairly mild, extremely funny and I don't think I heard any f-bombs.

Rocket: That's the first thing you've said that isn't batshit crazy!

Viewers of a certain age will also find this film flush with nostalgia, from the 70s tracks on Quill's Sony Walkman, (used to great effect more than once in the movie) to other period references:

Gamora: I'm a warrior, an assassin. I don't dance.
Peter Quill: Really? Well, on my planet, we have a legend about people like you. It's called Footloose. And in it, a great hero, named Kevin Bacon, teaches an entire city full of people with sticks up their butts that, dancing, well, is the greatest thing there is.

With a 93% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, and a $94 million dollar opening weekend in North America, Guardians of the Galaxy is not only going to be a tremendously successful film for Marvel, but is likely to take a number of unknown and lesser known characters and turn them into cultural touchstones.

That's the Marvel fan (studios and comics) talking. As a movie fan, I encourage everyone looking for an out of this world adventure to go and see something with more heart, more scale and more enjoyment than the last three Star Wars movies combined, and the start of a franchise that may give that other galaxy (i.e. the far, far away one) a real run for its money!

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