A Secret Life.

       There's a strange feeling of elation and bitterness that comes with the revelation that a story idea that's been circling your head for a decade is about to be turned into a movie. Elation from, of course, seeing your thoughts and fantasies come to life, bitterness from the crushing realization that you had nothing to do with it and, inevitably, someone else had your idea first.

       I say "inevitably" because the concept that there are no original stories to tell is ever-present on the mind of a writer. The hope is to tell a story in as original a way as possible, adding your own experience and perspective to perhaps improve the old tale. Shakespeare's "Romeo & Juliet" is a favorite example, based on Ovid's "Pyramus & Thisbe". We modernize and adapt, hoping that something in it will pass for originality.

       The story that I was hoping to tell was about a librarian with a rather monotonous existence who entertains himself and satiates his need for something resembling a life through fantasy. It was inspired largely by experience (ha) and a favorite quote from Harry Potter: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." While my story takes it a bit further, little did I know that something extremely similar had been written back in 1939 by James Thurber, now being turned into the Ben Stiller film "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," which I desperately want to see.

       It's eternally frustrating because good ideas come so rarely to me, and it's kind of obvious that this was a very good idea. Mine might be different enough to avoid calling it dead on arrival, but obviously it's already being mourned, as my ideas often are. And it's not helping this developing feeling of being stuck.  So, for now, back to staring in The Mirror.

The Thurber Carnival (Perennial Classics)

By James Thurber

Cumberbitchin.

         After far too long a wait for this trekkie, with blame going equally to laziness, busy-ness, and speeding bus-drivers that zoom by my stop about 5 minutes too early when I'm only about 100 feet away, I was finally able to go see Into Darkness yesterday. It was the first movie I've been able to see in a theater since The Hobbit back in January, so it was kind of a special treat, and it didn't disappoint.

       Especially for an action/adventure flick, I thought the pacing was well-balanced, which I couldn't say for its immediate predecessor. Films like these often get too carried away in their break-neck speed then have boring little interludes mixed in as an attempt to even things out. It doesn't often work, but my attention was never diverted here by thoughts of "oh-my-god-this-is-too-much", nor did I want for a fast-forward button. It was kept tight, but not too tight.

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       My only real complaints about the film included the gratuitously alien planet in the beginning that was far too stylized to be believable and the reliance on "Spock Prime" near the climax. The former can be forgiven, but the latter is starting to get old. I love Nimoy, of course, and his appearance in the first film was thrilling and it worked. Here, though, I think it drew a bit too much attention to the fact that this was a rework of the original sequel, The Wrath of Khan. 2009's Trek, with its diversion into an alternate timeline, was a great way to both reboot and continue the series, but it's not much of a continuation if you start retelling the same stories over again. With all of the remakes flooding the film industry I, for one, am starved for original material, and while I did prefer this rework to the original Khan, it also left me hoping that they'll come up with something new for the next installment. Given the significant switch at the end of Darkness that upends the story arc that would otherwise have been the next two films, I'm optimistic.

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       Now to the point: I do have to admit that I squealed a little (just a little) when I heard that the formerly titular character would be played by my übercrush from BBC's Sherlock, Benedict Cumberbatch. The man is just so gorgeously British that he would melt any Anglophile. And I'm copying directly from the Into Darkness Wikipedia page here to drive that point home, but "Jonathan Romney of The Independent specifically noted Cumberbatch's voice saying it was 'So sepulchrally resonant that it could have been synthesised from the combined timbres of Ian McKellen, Patrick Stewart and Alan Rickman holding an elocution contest down a well'." Considering he just named three of my favorite British men, you might begin to understand my excitement. But the man just ran away with the show. We already know he can play the genius, but he was such an awesome villain that I found myself wanting him to win. I love a good villain, especially those you can sympathize with: those whose actions are understood to a point where you're forced to reflect on whether you would chose the same if in their position. Their motivation isn't some evil madness or blind revenge, but some very applicable situation. This shift from the original Khan was a stroke of genius, and Benedict's portrayal left me even more hopelessly than before his Cumberbitch.

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