John Carter of Mars (4/5)
Buried within Edgar Rice Burroughs’s original series of
Barsoom novels hides the DNA of some of the most successful blockbusters of the
past forty years. Films like Star Wars and Avatar wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the fact that Burroughs had
already laid the groundwork in the early decades of the twentieth century. So despite the fact that John Carter’s
Martian adventures are a precursor to modern sci-fi and fantasy films, the
first major movie adaptation of Burroughs’s work can’t help but feel like
somewhat of a rehash. But it is also
difficult to hold this against a film that largely delivers on its promise of uncomplicated
thrills.
John Carter opens
using a framing technique similar to the novel on which it is based, A Princess of Mars. In the tradition of the “found text”
narrative, Burroughs represented his novel as an extended story written down by
his uncle, John Carter. In the film,
Burroughs is informed that his uncle has died, and he is summoned to his
wealthy uncle’s sizable estate. Upon
arriving, Burroughs is told that he has become the executor of his uncle’s
trust and is given a manuscript to pore over.
This manuscript, as you might surmise, is a recounting of Carter’s
adventures on the red planet, or Barsoom, as the Martians call it. Carter, it turns out, was once a prospector
looking to strike it rich near Apache country.
Because of his former role in the Confederate cavalry, a local Indian
fighter, Captain Powell, attempts to re-enlist him in his efforts to put down
Apache resistance.
The sit down between Powell and Carter turns into one of the
film’s best visual gags, and the first indication that the director, Andrew
Stanton, also helmed the Pixar classics Finding
Nemo and Wall-E. Carter eventually escapes from the cavalry
fort and becomes embroiled in a firefight with a band of Apaches. In his escape, Carter finds shelter in a cave
where he encounters a Martian, and, after snatching a metallic piece of Martian
technology, is whisked away out of the Arizona
desert into the deserts of Barsoom. The
framing technique is somewhat convoluted, since we are first introduced to John
Carter through Burroughs and then introduced to Carter proper on the frontier
before he finally finds his way to Mars.
But it was smart for the filmmakers to keep the 19th century
time frame. In most science fiction
films, the audience must suspend disbelief, but in a film based on early works
of fantastical fiction like John Carter,
there is a second layer of suspension of disbelief where the audience not only
must believe in the fantastical, but they must also believe that the kind of
absurdity we see in these stories is the sort of material for which a
contemporary audience would have been willing to suspend disbelief.
And once we get to Mars, there is, like in the novel, some
enjoyably goofy conceits. Because of
Mars’s weak gravity, Carter finds himself capable of leaping across the
landscape, and his denser bone and muscle mass make him an even more formidable
fighter than the vicious Barsoomian natives.
John Carter first encounters the Tharks, a ruthless four armed warrior
race. The leader of the Tharks, Tars
Tarkas, played energetically by Willem Defoe in CGI garb, sees in Carter a
weapon he can turn against the other denizens of Barsoom, and instead of
shooting him on sight decides to tie him up for later use.
In addition to the Tharks, Barsoom houses the Red Martians
who look pretty much like Earthlings who forgot to put on enough SPF during
their Florida
vacation. The Red Martians control
several city-states that are at war with one another. The city of Helium
has been under siege by the city of Zodanga
and cannot hold out for much longer. The leader of Zodanga, Sab Than, has been
able to keep his rivals on the ropes thanks to technology he received from a
mysterious group of secretive people known as the Therns. In a desperate last bid for peace, the ruler
of Helium has agreed to marry off his daughter, the Princess Dejah Thoris, to
Sab Than, but when she learns of her fathers plan, Dejah jets off. The Zodanga airships catch up with her near
the encampment of Tars Tarkas and his tribe where Carter rescues her from
plunging to her death. Dejah, of course,
wishes to recruit Carter to her cause in defending Helium against the onslaught
of Zodanga.
The plot itself is somewhat tortuous, thanks in part to the insertion
of the mysterious Therns, who did not appear in the first book and whose
inclusion adds just one more twisted convolution. And while the politics could have easily been
more of a chore, Stanton,
like all Pixar directors, has such a fantastic sense of pacing that we never
have to suffer through much political posturing. The audience is given as much information as
they need, and then we move on. But not
surprisingly the most engaging parts of the film take place among the
Tharks. The movie is smart enough not to
blunt the violent aspect of Thark society—Thark children are hatched in
communal incubators and those who do not break from their egg in time and
summarily killed—while at the same time the filmmakers shave off some of the
racism of Burroughs’s original story.
(In the novel, the Tharks stand in for the American-Indians Carter is
fighting before being transported across space and time). For a Disney movie John Carter is surprisingly violent, and Carter finds himself
covered in Martian blood on more than one occasion.
The joys of John
Carter are ultimately slight, but this is also the movie’s strength. While other blockbusters have become
increasingly bloated, John Carter
feels invigoratingly light-footed. True,
the movie’s running time exceeds two hours, but it never feels long. Just as Carter himself is a man out of time
and place, John Carter the movie also
feels out of step with its fellow big budgeted adventure films. At its heart, and when it is at its very
best, John Carter feels like an Errol
Flynn or Douglas Fairbanks flick—Captain
Blood with more special effects. Many
people have questioned whether or not sci-fi fantasy film set on Mars at the
end of the 19th century can recoup its substantial cost in
2012. I’m the last person who should try
and predict public tastes, but I can say that John Carter is that rare breed of sci-fi spectacle that, when it
hits its stride, actually thrills.
Attack on Memory relies on two elements
to truly differentiate itself from Cloud Nothings’s first two full lengths: a
full band and Steve Albini’s production.
The centerpiece of the entire album, the nearly nine-minute long “Wasted
Days,” could never have been pulled off as a bedroom recording. The song’s energy depends on multiple guitar dynamics
and clear shifts from one movement to the other. This fuller sound is only enhanced by
Albini’s steel hard production sound.
Albini is famous for his hands off approach to producing, allowing the
sound of his studio to do all the work for him.
Like Bruce Lee, he relies on the “style of no style.” And here much of the album feels as if it
were recording in an ancient cave, the band surrounded by long forgotten
glyphs. And what better environment for
Dylan’s intonation of easy self-disgust.
At times the album recalls Albini’s most famous production work, Nirvana’s
In Utero. And while Dylan doesn’t have Cobain’s gift
for layers of irony and somersaulting wordplay, he takes advantage of Albini’s
skills to evoke elemental feelings of anger and distrust that can be found in
the common 20-year-old American male. 
