The Serial Craze: When Writers Sacrifice the Story

Not so many years ago, one could view a television drama or pick up a novel, and expect to be told a story.  A complete story. Beginning, middle, end. Can you imagine?  With the exception of daytime soaps, serial stories were the exception, not the rule. As we have entered an era where, across many entertainment platforms, serials are more common - books, movies, television, games - it has often occurred to me that this practice has hurt the quality of stories.

The first time I remember being bored by the serial thing was with the ABC television serial from the 1980s, Twin Peaks. I watched most of it, but grew increasingly annoyed as my writer's intuition (and experience) told me that there was no ending. We were all waiting week after week for a big fat nothing, because the writers hadn't a clue how the thing was going to play itself out. They were making it up as they went, and their ever bringing it to a conclusion seemed to depend upon how long the network was going to keep renewing its call for new episodes.

Apparently I wasn't alone; early in the first season viewership dropped off dramatically. Largely due to great critical reviews based on its innovation, and likely to some ego on the part of ABC, the show was renewed for a second season that proved to be a mess. The key mystery was solved mid-season (a bone-headed decision if ever there was one) and viewership dropped to negligible numbers, financially speaking. The series died a long drawn-out death. Creators later admitted that they never considered that the series was about plot (the murder of Laura Palmer), but more about the interactions between the show's quirky characters - a confession that likely surprised not a single competent writer in viewer land. 

Other shows were smarter; The X Files incorporated a secondary ongoing storyline regarding the relationship between the leads and with their pasts, but still offered a complete story weekly. This was a formula that kept the show alive far longer than producers of Twin Peaks could have dreamt of - several years. 

By the middle of the 1980s, movies that were "sequels" or "prequels" or whatever inanity-du-jour producers came up with were a bit of a joke. (How about that second Indiana Jones story?  The "prequel". Yeah.. that one.) One could expect the sequel to be a lame attempt at money-making on the part of producers, and rarely anything that lived up to the thrill moviegoers had at the original. 

In recent years, the serial craze has crept into the realm of novels. Interestingly, many of the classic novels that we still revere from the late 18th, 19th and early 20th centuries in American and British writing were originally published in serial form in various newspapers. And yet, even that took a different form than it does now. These novels were complete and promised to be so from the beginning: they would be advertised as for example "a novel in four parts".  The reader was reassured every time they began a new installment, that they were reading a real story with a real, logical plot, and that it would have a real ending.

Nowadays there is a lot of laziness in writing all around. While Amazon, I personally believe, has been a godsend in allowing innovative stories to find a place in the marketplace, I abhor the laziness - from people just wanting to make a quick buck who would not take one week to learn to write a plot in any coherent manner, to people who want to call themselves a writer but don't understand that putting a book out there with grammar and spellings issues and a mess of a structure does not a writer make. Of course, the buyer is as responsible as the writer, if not more, for this state of things in the marketplace - and that is another discussion. The point is, I have come to believe that writing serials is another rather cynical attempt to make money with bad writing.  One need only slap together the beginning of a story, and put of having to take it to a logical end. 

Why does this matter to me?  Because 1) we have so little in the way of novels of quality on the already flooded market, and 2) serials as they are currently being presented cheat the reader. And do that quite intentionally.

The best plots - and in my mind the only way to structure a novel - consider the outcome as they go. The author knows the ending and the conflicts and pitfalls, and leads the reader through a maze of clues (foreshadowing) that all contribute to the satisfaction a reader feels as they reach a great ending. If the writer from the get-go has no idea what the plot is or where the conflict is going, they cannot foreshadow, they cannot tease and lead the reader. To me, there is something really low about spoonfeeding a reader little bits of an incomplete meal of a story, allowing him to anticipate for nothing.

Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that whether you are a novelist or a playwright, a screenwriter or a producer for TV, you owe those to whom you are telling the story a well-structured plot. You owe this above all else, because without a good plot, the story doesn't take shape. I talk to too many writers who will tell me all about the great protagonist they have dreamt up for the upcoming series (usually this protagonist is based upon themselves, interestingly), but are unable to articulate any coherent plan for a plot.  "It's a series," is the excuse, "I can figure it out in Book Two."  Oh.  

The problem is, there are too many instances where the first book establishes the lead character and a conflict of sorts, and ties up just a few loose ends by the finish but leaves a few bigger loose ends for the second book, enticing readers to buy in order to be fulfilled. Fine, but too many times the author grows bored by the end of the second book, resorts to dragging it on to a third, or simply doesn't publish a book with the ending. (Can you spell "c.h.e.a.t."?) So what starts out as an enthusiastic following results in a lot of frustrated readers, and rightly so. The author struggles to keep plotting alive, the second and subsequent (God forbid) books lack quality, and the series fizzles out. The problem is that the writer didn't take the time and effort - and perhaps lacked the skill in many instances - to lay out a complete plot structure, and then figure out what would happen in each book.  Experienced writers (and most of them stay away from serials) don't make the mistake of making it up as they go - they know that unless you have plot issues resolved from the beginning, they become potholes that grow into craters, and you may end up without an ending that works, and a failed series.

I find that this scenario usually involves an inexperienced writer, eager to make a paycheck, and unschooled on the finer points of successful plotting.  Often, this is a writer who does characterization well; he or she can come up with a great character and stick them into a book. But that character ends up throwing up his hands and complaining to the author, "What do you want me to do?"  when he becomes hopelessly mired in the chaos of a lack of plot.

A few people - a few - who are experienced writers do serials well. But the ones I can think of all do one important thing that is different from inexperienced writers:  they roll a complete well-plotted story into each book. Each book can stand alone as a good read. And a person can read Book Three and pretty much enjoy a full story, never having read the first two at all.

One good example of this is the wonderful historical novelist Bernard Cornwell. He has done a few different series of novels designed around themes. Each book within a series is a separate story; it may involve an ongoing protagonist observer to the historical period. Bestselling thriller writer Tom Clancy uses the Jack Ryan character as a protagonist through many of his novels, yet each novel contains a complete mystery thriller. Another good example is the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. Each story could be read separately and is complete in and of itself.

Unfortunately, the success of Harry Potter spawned a generation of novels that are badly written as series. Either, as mentioned above, an inexperienced writer is just in over their heads - or worse, the success of a first book prompts the writer to come up with an extension to the story that is never going to live up to the first because the writer doesn't understand the sophistication of plot structure required to pull it off (consider the Twilight story by Stephenie Meyer, or the 50 Shades of Gray books by E.L. James - yes there are three of those trainwrecks). 

The genre of erotic novels, along with "urban fantasy", offers up some of the worst nonsense in series reading. There, you often experience both bad characterization and bad plot structure, all rolled up in one. Why any reader continues to finance an author who can't be bothered to offer those two fundamentals to the reader, is beyond me. 

I'll continue to be annoyed by series writing, and dismayed that it seems to indulge a sort of greed amongst some bad writers, as their naive readers snatch up the first few books in a series before becoming disappointed.  I'll continue to tell the inexperienced writers I work with as an editor that series writing is not a good idea unless you are willing to plot out three novels, before writing a word of the first. You have to be willing to put thought into the last chapter of the third book, before you can presume to be able to successfully write the series or understand character development and conflict - those very things that form the true backbone of good writing and a successful series. 

I'll continue to believe that it's a trend whose life will be limited as people become tired of disappointment. When that day comes, there will be a lot of nervous TV writers, novelists and screenwriters, who will finally have to learn to write a structured plot!

Film Review: The Riot Club

I have been looking forward to seeing this film for quite a while. It is based on an award-winning play, POSH, by British playwright Laura Wade. As did the play, the film has garnered some good reviews, and in particular, its ensemble cast of ten of Great Britain's best young male actors have received positive attention for their roles. As some of you know, I became a fan of upcoming actor and former model Max Irons, after seeing his performance as King Edward IV of England in made-for-cable miniseries, The White Queen. His performance has been one of those singled out for praise in The Riot Club. And so I was excited to see him in this film. Because I am a fan of stage plays, and fascinating by the art of writing for theatre, I am always interested to see how a play has been adapted for the big screen.

The Riot Club was released first in the UK, and subsequently across Europe from early fall until present. The cast and producers have put in a lot of time with personal appearances at various premieres, and it has been met with good energy everywhere, including in Canada where it premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in November of 2014. Its U.S. release is set for late March. It was directed by Danish director/producer Lone Scherfig.

The film is well-produced and adequately filmed. Not one performance is lacking, from the least - lasting a few seconds - to those of the ensemble cast of eleven men and two women, each of whom plays a major role. I found the structure of the plot rather odd, and had to settle in a bit to it: this was no doubt a result of the adaptation from stage. I'm not certain whether editing could have remedied the feeling that the build-up was too short and the debauchery scene very long. It seems that the balance achieved was necessary to the success of the plot.

The story follows two freshmen at Oxford University, Miles (Max Irons) and Alistair (Sam Claflin). Both

Sam Claflin (left); Max Irons

are approached almost immediately by a mysterious underground by-invite-only "social club" known as the Riot Club - named after a 17th-century nobleman who engaged in abandonned and continuous debauchery, and was stabbed in the stomach for it by a cuckholded husband. The boys see this history as terribly romantic and exciting and use it as an excuse to engage in a carpe diem lifestyle while at school which includes playing various pranks that are so extreme that they are more disgusting than amusing. But these kids are rich, and it's old money. They simply pay their way out of scrapes with wads of bills from their pockets and the help of Daddy's lawyers.

I know, you're imagining the horror stories we hear coming out of frat house hazings, right?  In most countries, the children of the financial elite sometimes get away with horrible behavior, and pay and/or intimidate their way out of it. But forget all that: the antics of this crowd would make the most hardened frat boys' jaws drop. They are truly out of control. The viewer feels the situation veering out of hand from early in the film, and the thing is that it never really careens until all Hell breaks loose well past the hour-long mark - it just crawls slowly to an increasingly dark inevitability, and it keeps the viewer mesmerized. It is the horror show you can't look away from - even as you know you don't want to see it.

Stories came out of the set during production that the cast itself was often uncomfortable with the subject matter. The male ensemble discussed it together at length, took time to bond so that filming the worst would be easier on them mentally. Actresses Holliday Grainger and Jessica Brown-Findlay have spoken about struggling with the tension of the misogynistic scenes in the film. Max Irons has told the press a few times that when first presented with the script, he felt he would decline the role, feeling that he didn't want to do something "so disgusting". But he thought about it further, considered that clubs such as the one depicted in the film have been the stuff of university legend for years;  a few years back some of the elite in the British government were discovered to have participated in such behavior themselves, and there was quite the scandal at the time. Irons decided that it was "an important story" and "a discussion that needs to happen" in the greater social context, and he agreed to participate.

Much is made in the film, and during interviews with the cast and director, about this social context. Most of Europe is deeply entrenched in the realities of social class differences, to a greater extent than Americans and Canadians experience. It seems to infiltrate so much of the way of looking at life. I say this as one who has lived in Europe, and was married into a European family for near two decades. To understand - as we do in America - that a lot of money brings what is sometimes too much privilege, and to as a Brit understand it as a sort of wall built over hundreds of years that cannot be scaled, is two different sensibilities.  And so perhaps my appreciation of the film from that perspective was a bit limited.

I think that perhaps my experience of the film was also affected by my gender. Why is it that young men, when they assume their ugliest personas, have to be so damned ugly toward women?  It would be funny if it weren't so horrid: the notion that a male somehow raises himself in the eyes of other males by demeaning those most vulnerable to testosterone-out-of-control, is something I have never been able to understand. The scenes which depict this particular behavior are so vile, that Holliday Grainger describes a sort of dream state she entered during filming the worst, when the line between what was the set and what was real seemed to blur. At one point she describes how one of the actors laid a kind hand on her to ask if she were all right, and she shivered, unable to stand him touching her. She rushes to explain that all the male actors involved were kind people and spoke of their own disgust as well, but it didn't make the filming of it any easier.

Of all the heinous behaviors depicted in the film, perhaps this one was the worst: the harassment of
women. Let me describe what I mean: some of the boys are frustrated that a high-priced call girl they hired to perform oral sex on them all under the dinner table has told them where to stick it (er..them) and walked out without the boys getting their fun. Later, Miles' girlfriend - having been tricked into coming to the restaurant - stumbles upon the drunken orgy at hand. The male mob turns on her, openly taunting her with language meant to intimidate and then terrify her into believing she will be raped, as they physically restrain her (and restrain a horrified Miles, who has let it go this far before trying to intervene). The girl finally escapes, but of course, nothing will ever be the same for the two lovers.

Which brings me to the point of the film. The behavior of the boys escalates over much of the film - each time the viewer hopes that we have seen the worst - and many times it seems that it is in fact enough to get the point - it keeps getting worse. It is ratcheted up yet another notch. Is destroying a working family's place of business enough?  Destroying a treasured collection of artwork? Vomiting under tables? Breaking literally everything in a room?  Is humiliating an escort enough?  Or a young woman who means no harm, and comes into the room expecting no harm to herself? Is terrifying her in an intimately, primal sexual way for one's amusement enough? How about beating a man senseless, as a gang, because you can?

As I write, it's been one day since the world was horrified by the act of a terrorist gang of thugs in Syria burning a young man alive in a cage. This gang has, over a year, gotten more and more brazen in terms of how it tortures and kills. From hangings to beheadings. From stonings to throwing people off buildings. And now we are back in the Middle Ages, burning people alive. As one news pundit said today - we have to understand that these are young men who are enjoying what they are doing. They are enjoying the victim's suffering and they are enjoying the horror we feel at seeing what they have done.  I thought a lot about this as I watched The Riot Club.

I thought about the nature of power - whether political or monetary, by virtue of terror or by inherited wealth.  I thought about human nature too.  I thought about what Miles' girlfriend says to him, tears streaming and body shaking, as she throws cold water on his effort to seek her forgiveness, "You were THERE. You had a choice, Miles, and you chose to do NOTHING."

The ugliest behavior humans can engage in are wrapped up in the under two hours of this film. When intimidation and power is used to destroy another - whether by the horrible psychological torture suggested in this film, or by setting fire to a person - I have to believe that the gods weep for us all: both for those who do it, and those who stand by and do nothing.

In the end, what is really the difference between the minds of young men engaged in a gang rape or beating a man blind in the back room of a pub, and the minds of a Middle Eastern thug?  What are we going to do about these acts, in our own societies, behind the doors of our governments, and within our universities? How much is too much for us as a species to bear, before we stop turning our faces away and excusing it? Before we stop refusing to be emotionally present, before we stop doing nothing?

These are questions this haunting film leaves us. I didn't enjoy it. I never want to see it again. But I'm glad I did see it once, and that it made me think about things that perhaps we all should be giving thought to from time to time.  As Mr. Irons observed, the story is important on many levels, depending on one's perspective, and it certainly is a place to start a much needed discussion. The most relevant films are those that make us look in the mirror, and for that, The Riot Club deserves accolades.

Film Review: Getting Go: the Go Doc Project

Those of us who scour the film world for a decent gay-themed film are often frustrated. Many factors contribute to this. Most often, American-made films are a particular crap-shoot. If they have attained decent financial backing, their filmmakers end up bowing to the preferences of fat-cat producers who turn it into a replica of what they know sells and makes back the money with a profit: this usually means a cheesy goof-ball comedy. I think that competent filmmakers who want to make a great gay-themed film walk a fine line too often - at least in America - no doubt struggling to put together something with some quality and still appease the moolah gods.

Going the indie route can result in a little more creative freedom, but also comes with the challenge of raising funding; even if you can afford in the end to make the film the way you want to, and get everyone paid for their work, the real cost afterward of marketing it means that many a decent film never makes it in front of most people's eyes. Film-making is a tough world, but in the gay genre, it's near-impossible.

One has to admire Cory Krueckeberg, director/writer of Getting Go: the Go Doc Project, a film that hit Netflix just recently. I watched it a few nights ago. It was an interesting experience. Apparently, according to an interview Krueckeberg gave to Andrew Darley for Polari Magazine online, Krueckeberg set out to make a film that "didn't look cheap" with a budget of a mere $10,000. A scary prospect to be sure, but Krueckeberg thought outside the box: he figured that he could make a film about a guy making a documentary, shoot the whole thing with hand-held cameras, and depend upon a few good performances and a good story to sell it. I'd say he pretty much succeeded.

It is amusing to see how many of the customer reviews on Netflix call the film a "documentary". Obviously there are a lot of people who don't know the definition of a documentary, or maybe they really are that ignorant of film-making. Hard to tell. At any rate, the reviews are all over the board, although the overall average earns the film a four stars so far. One must, as always, look hard at these reviews and read between the lines; some will watch it too critically because they are gay and perhaps too familiar with the NYC night life, some will watch it too critically because they aren't gay and don't get it, some will be jolted by the R+ sex scene (which is beautifully done).

Make no mistake, this is not a documentary film; it's a feature film. The story involves Doc, a desperately lonely college student, not so conflicted about his sexuality as he is about figuring out how to go about finding a relationship. Because he lacks the social skills and maturity, not to mention the balls, to go out and find one, he depends upon an anonymous internet following, for whom he occasionally jacks off online and with whom he shares his most intimate thoughts.  As a joke, he emails his favorite idol obsession, a go-go boy who works the NYC gay clubs, about doing a documentary. To Doc's surprise and horror, the boy responds, and the momentum begins: Doc can neither walk away nor muster the nerve to confess his ruse.  It gets more complicated when the go-go boy expresses a romantic interest in Doc.

Matthew Camp.  Photo copyright Daniel Jack Lyons, 2014

Every moment of the film is shot through Doc's documentary eyes. It is occasionally grainy, frequently badly-lit, providing just enough of an amateurish feel to keep the viewer inside Doc's head and experience. The script is passable; I think that the filmmaker was trying to strike a balance, perhaps, between scripted lines and natural spontaneous conversation between the actors. It's an interesting approach but it makes for some terribly bland dialog in places. Added to this is the filmmaker's obsession with Warhol's realism phase - three minutes of someone eating is three minutes of pure torture. When Warhol did it, it was new and innovative. In 2014 it is damned annoying, breaks the pacing of the plot, and sticks out like a sore thumb. Some serious cutting in the editing room would have improved the film overall.

However, aside from these issues, Getting Go is a moving piece of work.  Much of this is due to the story itself and the performances of the two leads (the only speaking actors in the film). Doc is played by young, but veteran, actor Tanner Cohen, and quite competently.  The challenge of a film like this is that the entire film rides on the lead being engaging and likable immediately, and Cohen is easily that. Moreover, he knows acting and it shows. In this role, in which Doc starts out jacking off and then deceiving an innocent person into being filmed in private moments of life, a less talented and trained actor could have created an odious character and destroyed the film. But the viewer can't help but like Doc - with all his faults, his vulnerability is near-heartbreaking, throughout the film.  Newcomer to the screen but not to the go-go scene is former go-go dancer,more recently artist and perfumer, Matthew Camp. He was already a well-known heartthrob in the NYC gay world, and his performance in the film is spot on - a combination of scripted lines and his musings on his own life. While a few exchanges feel a bit awkward, he does create a character, and it is a believable one. His charm and looks make up for any misstep.

Tanner Cohen 

The story leads the viewer intimately into a unique relationship between a pair of characters who are ultimately lonely in their own ways - Doc in his inexperience and under-confidence, and Go in his isolation in the limited world of gay nightlife, one with which he isn't all that comfortable, it turns out. I have to be honest, I struggled to stay with this film in the first half-hour - the pacing was so messy, the dialog so dry, that I prayed it would have a point in the end.  And it did, in spades. I have to mention also, that having come to know many of the young men that work in exotic dancing / burlesque / gay porn, the character of Go and his view on life, attitude, and experiences, felt very true to me. Their often becoming involved with someone outside the sex industry, being lonely in their own unique ways even as they are adored by fans, being very free-spirited, sensual, and creative people, is exactly what I would expect.

I would greatly encourage everyone to read the interview with the filmmaker at Polari, after watching the film. Various interviews with the two leads can also be found online.  I am not one to be comfortable with star ratings for films - a viewing experience is intensely personal - but if I focus on technical aspects I would give it a 4/5, because its innovation and heart - not to mention the performances (particularly that of Cohen) - far outweigh any problems.

Interview with Krueckeberg for Polaris (Andrew Darley) :
http://www.polarimagazine.com/interviews/getting-go-interview-cory-krueckeberg/

Tanner Cohen (Doc) is on Twitter at @tarzancohen

Matthew Camp (Go) is on Twitter at @MatthewCampNYC

Need a Good Movie Tonight? Try This One!

If you don't know me well, you might be surprised at what I would recommend amongst my top ten movie picks.

More than a decade ago, I discovered something that amazed me.  I stumbled into a fantastic and highly unusual book by an unlikely author. Michael Crichton is known to film fans, the television industry, and the publishing world as the author of science fiction thrillers, often dealing in medical themes. If you have seen the series ER, films The Andromeda Strain, Jurassic Park, or Disclosure, or read the novels Sphere, Congo, or State of Fear - amongst many, many other works - you have tasted his special brand of genius.  Crichton was the all-around entertainer and entertainment industry mogul. His films have made millions, and his books are estimated to have sold over 200 million copies, many made into movies. This was a man anyone interested in entertainment can admire.

But that isn't all he was, turns out. He also was terribly knowledgeable in an area in which I share his interest: literature of the early medieval period, or what is rather erroneously known as the Dark Ages. Only those who know me well know that I am fully capable of waxing eloquent for hours about the history of early medieval Britain and Ireland, explaining the finer points of Beowulf and lesser Anglo-Saxon poems, and discussing unique features of the culture.  I'm sure my eyes light up, my cheeks flush, and I know my heart beats harder - nothing gets me more excited. Heaven help the person who has to listen to me.

So you can imagine that it was with great interest that I stumbled upon a film those years ago called The Thirteenth Warrior.  Not only did it seem to be set in the early medieval period, but well... two hours of Antonio Banderas is never a painful thing. I am a little unusual for a woman I suppose: you see, I love medieval epics. Bloody, no problem (in fact, I get a little offended if people are being slain on the battlefield and no one is bleeding. War was not pretty when all combat was face-to-face, hand-to-hand, sword-to-shield, eye-to-eye - nothing was anonymous, as it is now). Now don't get me wrong - over-the-top gratuitous isn't-this-fun violence is also offensive. But some realism is called for if a film is to earn my respect. The thing is, there are a lot of bad medieval-themed films out there (I'm talking to you, Ridley Scott!).  So I am conditioned perhaps to expect the inane when I sit down to view one. I am also a bit of a snob; years of university and my own study for the twenty-five-odd years since, have filled my head with too many historical details. I don't expect perfection, but I do like to see some real effort on the part of researchers, and when I see a film where they really seem to have gone out of their way to get it right, and cared about getting it right - I get all excited.

And it isn't just about historical accuracy in details of the period; it's about understanding the medieval mind. A film about the Middle Ages that is tinged with the political and cultural sensibilities of the 21st century (I'm talking to you, Ridley Scott!) is a failure. I like to see that a producer and director gets it: understands what the values of a culture were, and can convey them to the modern viewer with respect.

So it was with a little trepidation and a lot of hopefulness, that I sat down to view The Thirteenth Warrior, for what was to be the first of many times. The film is fantastically accurate in period details in terms of what we know about 10th century Norse culture (Vikings), and the bits that are missing from our puzzle are so deftly created by the filmmakers that there was, to my eyes, no lapse in logic.  I loved the film, and I still do.

Only one original copy of the
Beowulf manuscript exists.

But here is the surprise:  The Thirteenth Warrior is based upon a novel by Crichton (who quietly co-produced the film) originally called Eaters of the Dead (title later change to coincide with the film release). Actually, the full title is Eaters of the Dead: The Manuscript of Ibn Fadlan Relating His Experiences with the Northmen in A.D. 922. Evidently, Crichton was a very educated man. He earned his undergraduate degree at Harvard, and later a medical degree at the same institution. When a professor friend gave a lecture about the "Great Bores of Literature" and included the magnificent medieval saga Beowulf, Crichton was incensed (as I would have been). Only someone who hasn't the historical understanding of the background of Beowulf could believe such a thing.  The epic-length poem - which was written down sometime between the late 7th and early 10th centuries, and existed in oral form from about the 6th - is in fact not only important to literature, but our best glimpse into Anglo-Saxon society of the era. It is filled with historical detail about the daily lives of warriors and kings, and better, it allows us to see into their minds, and understand what made them tick. This is our heritage, these people. This is the foundation upon which the British built a civilization. The poem is written in the earliest form of the English language for which we have a record (if you have never heard Old English/Anglo-Saxon go HERE. You may be surprised - you'll understand perhaps every twentieth word, if you are concentrating hard!)  Anyway, Crichton disagreed that it was "boring", a  protracted argument ensued, and eventually Crichton declared that he would prove that Beowulf can be very interesting if presented properly. And he did just that, by putting the best of his genius into his most little-known novel.

But there is more:  Crichton, for his novel, combined Beowulf and its legend with an ancient Moorish manuscript written by a Muslim traveler who left a record of his encounters and travels with Vikings. The novel is imaginatively narrated by a voice that combines the two sources to weave an amazing tale. The film, years after (the novel was published in 1976) brought Crichton's vision to life.  But think about Crichton's creativity as a writer. He took two ancient manuscripts, which he had no doubt studied at university, and wove them together into one story. He also used an interesting device: the narrator approaches the subject by describing and discussing the Moorish manuscript itself, as if he were a scholar. If you think it makes for a boring book, you'd be wrong.

Even the dog in the film (an Irish Wolfhound
 mix type lurcher) is authentic to the period!

I can't begin to list the richness of the details that pepper the film, from the speculation on the clash/mix of cultures, to the struggles to understand a foreign language, to the way in which intelligent people having no advanced scientific reasoning came to believe in the supernatural and to live every day by those beliefs. Here is just one example:  in the film, a dragon comes when the mist falls in the valley. The people call it the "FireWorm", for as it winds its way down the mountainside through the mist, the observer sees only a fiery serpentine trail of orange light. But when the heroes get close enough, they see that it is a cavalry of horsemen, carrying lit torches high, and from the distance and through the mist they look to be a dragon.

Especially interesting is a scene depicting the Moorish man's beginning to understand the Old Norse of his companions, or the scene in which - tired of the Vikings making fun of his little Arabian horse by barking at it like a dog - he charges at and jumps his horse over a line of war horses to prove a point. Our protagonists are thinking, reasoning, and - in terms of their own era - highly intelligent people, who use their wits to win the respect of fellow warriors, and to survive disaster.

(I want to take this opportunity to mention the background for the primitive tribe in the film. Many anthropologists believe that "relic Neanderthals", a race that was a throwback to early alternative human development, existed up into the early medieval period, in remote pockets. Even this, which at first glance would seem to be fanciful on the part of the filmmakers, is based upon legitimate theory.)

The film is full of great sets and costuming, intelligent thought, stellar performances (Banderas is great, and Dennis Storhoi as Herger is excellent), stimulating dialogue. And well, Antonio and some other sexy men in leather breeches, and sweaty after the occasional sword fight. The greatest beauty is its themes: tolerance of others' ways in a chaotic world, uniting in order to prevail for a hopeless cause, and foremost - the definition of manhood in a time when you had to face your enemy eye-to-eye and hope you could survive by your wits if not your physical strength.  These warriors are not without fear, but they are men who know that muscle is often not the greatest tool in battle.

I would encourage anyone who wants to watch a thought-provoking, moving film that offers a lot of suspense and a rollicking good story, to see The Thirteenth Warrior. And if you do, think about the ways in which we rather stupidly look down upon the people of the past, and what they might be able to teach us about ourselves and about real courage.

Both the book and the film, incidentally, received mixed reviews. I believe that a little background is necessary to fully enjoy either one, and I wanted to offer it here for what that is worth. There was no argument that they were both well-designed, but some reviewers seemed to find the subject matter baffling. Of course. The film grossed around $50 million less than it needed to break even, however in subsequent years and decades made it up in DVD sales. It has become a bit of a cult classic. The novel Eaters of the Dead can easily be had from Amazon and other sources - it is interesting reading and for writers a fascinating exercise in innovation. It is a novella actually - a quick read, despite the presentation.

Sadly, Michael Crichton passed away in late 2008. I would have liked to have seen what more he would have come up with and added to the world of film and literature.

WARNING:  The film The Thirteenth Warrior contains non-gratuitous scenes of extreme violence. Don't let that deter you from a great film, but it isn't suitable for pre-teens.

For a great documentary on Beowulf go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1C0sFXU0SLo

This is a great reading in modern translation of Beowulf:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaB0trCztM0