Mmmm.... Power Armor: A highly digressive (and spoiler-free) review.
Because it's so amazingly easy to order books via inter-system loan from a multi-million dollar collection carried across 50+ libraries, it's also easy for our library customers to over-order. How often, at the circulation desk, have staff seen the puzzled look as the book is turned over; the back blurb read; the facing promotional material scanned--? How often heard the plaintive, "Why did I order this?"
And from customers, too: not just me!
So I order a ton of books: books for my kid, books for potential booktalks, books to recommend to regular teen customers, books that have been nominated for the Evergreen Award, and of course, titles for me to read, just because I want to. Very often, the prompt has been nothing more than a suggestion from a friend or acquaintance, or a review read in Locus, or WashRag, or here in LJ.
The which brings me to the scene enacted across the desk today, as I was checking in a batch of Summer Reading book talk orders, new fiction, a picture book, and... I utter the fateful phrase: why did I order this, again?
C., with whom I've been talking book, and who is now helping me scissor out the game from Caroline Cooney's latest reissue, and to package it for circulation, asks, "Shouldn't you know?"
It's a fair cop. But as I point out to her, I order so many books for so many reasons it's easy for little monkeys librarians[1] to forget.
"After all," I say, "Any fool can see why I ordered this:"
Just look at it: Space ships! Big D--n Guns! Power armor![2] (Mmmm.... Power armor.)
Which, to make a long story just a bit longer, brings me to the movie Iron Man[3], the which I got to see at a matinee today. I am not really a fan of the comic book (though I do own and enjoy Barry Windsor Smith's take on the hero[4]) because whiny alcoholics Are Just No Fun[5]; and if you're going to give me a comic book with an amazing powered armor suit, I want with The Fun already.
Happily, the movie delivers it in spades. At the set up Tony Stark effortlessly charms a hummvee full of troopers--showing both what a first class jerk and slick operator he can be--but at the same time a kind of good-humored, warm-heartedness. The next such scene displays man's trivialized genius, his fecklessness with the power he holds; but also hints at a core of stern virtue, almost completely covered by self-indulgence. But only almost.
Of course, trials are endured; adventures ensue; the perpetual adolescent wakes up and smells the coffee: The potential initially displayed is at last realized. The actor, Mr. Robert Downey, manages to embody all of this, so that the audience can perceive that even as Stark builds his Iron Man suit; he's also rebuilding himself.
And all this story-riffic goodness is spread across a backdrop of Pulpishly-keen, super-cool, techno-Fun. With larfs in; because one of of Tony Stark's native virtues is playfulness, and Stark does not lose himself as he becomes a Good Man. He merely loses the things that were preventing all those good things that make him uniquely himself from being expressed in the quotidian choices of his life.
I should add that as John C. Wright pointed out, it seems as if nowadays, there always comes a dreary moment in nearly every otherwise purely pulp-adventure story; a moment where the lesser-demon-o-Hollywood leaps up from the collective bellies of the creators, bringing the story to a screeching halt in order to deliver an Wee (or not so wee) "Amerikka Is Teh Evol" sermonette. This never happens in Iron Man! Never!
Oh I suppose, as the Duchess told Alice: "Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it." It's certainly true that Mr. Tony Stark learns that You Have to Take Responsibility for the Things You're in Charge Of; Great Power can be used by the greedy and short-sighted for wicked ends, and Selling Weopons to Terrorists and Evil Men is Just Wrong. But of course, all of these are built, blood and bone, into the story of the genius weapon's manufacturer who reforms his shallow life and becomes a hero.
With kick-ass power armor, of course.
Mmmmmmm! Power Armor!
Great flick.
*Gosh, I like "Veggie Tales." We're watching The Lord of the Beans these days and the Elvish Impersonator Song just cracks me up: I leave now to do laundry!
[1] Yes. I also love Curious George. You know, once upon a time, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I used to be a children's librarian...
[2] A review; here. Obviously, however, not the one that inspired me to order the book.
[3] Oh, right: If you're curious, the book I couldn't remember ordering was The Keepers: Part One, World War III. For some reason the cover resonates with a "Left Behind" vibe: Never a good thing. Or at least, not for me.
[4] It's all about the art.
[5] No kidding, carbonelle, snaps anyone who's lived with one: Which is, after all, The Point.
And from customers, too: not just me!
So I order a ton of books: books for my kid, books for potential booktalks, books to recommend to regular teen customers, books that have been nominated for the Evergreen Award, and of course, titles for me to read, just because I want to. Very often, the prompt has been nothing more than a suggestion from a friend or acquaintance, or a review read in Locus, or WashRag, or here in LJ.
The which brings me to the scene enacted across the desk today, as I was checking in a batch of Summer Reading book talk orders, new fiction, a picture book, and... I utter the fateful phrase: why did I order this, again?
C., with whom I've been talking book, and who is now helping me scissor out the game from Caroline Cooney's latest reissue, and to package it for circulation, asks, "Shouldn't you know?"
It's a fair cop. But as I point out to her, I order so many books for so many reasons it's easy for little monkeys librarians[1] to forget.
"After all," I say, "Any fool can see why I ordered this:"
Just look at it: Space ships! Big D--n Guns! Power armor![2] (Mmmm.... Power armor.)
Which, to make a long story just a bit longer, brings me to the movie Iron Man[3], the which I got to see at a matinee today. I am not really a fan of the comic book (though I do own and enjoy Barry Windsor Smith's take on the hero[4]) because whiny alcoholics Are Just No Fun[5]; and if you're going to give me a comic book with an amazing powered armor suit, I want with The Fun already.
Happily, the movie delivers it in spades. At the set up Tony Stark effortlessly charms a hummvee full of troopers--showing both what a first class jerk and slick operator he can be--but at the same time a kind of good-humored, warm-heartedness. The next such scene displays man's trivialized genius, his fecklessness with the power he holds; but also hints at a core of stern virtue, almost completely covered by self-indulgence. But only almost.
Of course, trials are endured; adventures ensue; the perpetual adolescent wakes up and smells the coffee: The potential initially displayed is at last realized. The actor, Mr. Robert Downey, manages to embody all of this, so that the audience can perceive that even as Stark builds his Iron Man suit; he's also rebuilding himself.
And all this story-riffic goodness is spread across a backdrop of Pulpishly-keen, super-cool, techno-Fun. With larfs in; because one of of Tony Stark's native virtues is playfulness, and Stark does not lose himself as he becomes a Good Man. He merely loses the things that were preventing all those good things that make him uniquely himself from being expressed in the quotidian choices of his life.
I should add that as John C. Wright pointed out, it seems as if nowadays, there always comes a dreary moment in nearly every otherwise purely pulp-adventure story; a moment where the lesser-demon-o-Hollywood leaps up from the collective bellies of the creators, bringing the story to a screeching halt in order to deliver an Wee (or not so wee) "Amerikka Is Teh Evol" sermonette. This never happens in Iron Man! Never!
Oh I suppose, as the Duchess told Alice: "Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it." It's certainly true that Mr. Tony Stark learns that You Have to Take Responsibility for the Things You're in Charge Of; Great Power can be used by the greedy and short-sighted for wicked ends, and Selling Weopons to Terrorists and Evil Men is Just Wrong. But of course, all of these are built, blood and bone, into the story of the genius weapon's manufacturer who reforms his shallow life and becomes a hero.
With kick-ass power armor, of course.
Mmmmmmm! Power Armor!
Great flick.
*Gosh, I like "Veggie Tales." We're watching The Lord of the Beans these days and the Elvish Impersonator Song just cracks me up: I leave now to do laundry!
[1] Yes. I also love Curious George. You know, once upon a time, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I used to be a children's librarian...
[2] A review; here. Obviously, however, not the one that inspired me to order the book.
[3] Oh, right: If you're curious, the book I couldn't remember ordering was The Keepers: Part One, World War III. For some reason the cover resonates with a "Left Behind" vibe: Never a good thing. Or at least, not for me.
[4] It's all about the art.
[5] No kidding, carbonelle, snaps anyone who's lived with one: Which is, after all, The Point.