There is, throughout Terry Pratchett’s “Sourcery
,” a somewhat sorrowful tone being struck amidst the high spirited comedy and dramatic saving the world (again) sorts of action.
Because, at the heart of this story of how a most magical being, one whose very existence could unravel the fabric of the universe, is a scared and cruelly tormented little boy. That Pratchett keeps this in mind, and indeed, makes his salvation just as important as saving the world, is a credit to his skills as a writer and heart as a person.
The eighth son of an eighth son is a wizard. And the eighth son of a normally celibate wizard is a sourcerer, a living font of magical energies. But it’s slightly more complicated than that: a father with a grudge against the magical establishment, a magical establishment (the cast of Unseen University, alternately pathetic and for once frightening) that’s hungry for power, and a chain of events that quickly gets out of control all hurtle this story towards disaster.
Along the way, we get introduced to the daughter of the greatest hero in Discworld’s history, who just desperately wants to be a hairdresser but finds that some things are just in her blood. We also pick up a very unlikely barbarian hero and a literary minded monarch and his fabulous pleasuredome. And, of course, the magic-less wizard Rincewind and his animate Luggage make a triumphant (well, as triumphant as Rincewind gets) return.
“Sourcery” is Pratchett’s most heartfelt novel to date, and he puts the characters ahead of plot or jokes — although there are plenty, especially concerning Conina and Unseen University — and it makes for one of the best Discworld novels to date.
Strongly recommended.
My favorite Sheryl Crow record, without question, is her eponymous title of a few years ago, wherein she indulged in Liz Phair-style whimsy like “Maybe Angels.”
That sort of spirit — as well as Phair herself — shows up at times on this new album, but for the most part, “C’mon, C’mon” feels like a somewhat downbeat party to which Crow has invited her all-star friends. For the most part, they blend in invisibly with Crow and her back-up performers, and don’t bring much to the party. It’s nice to know Stevie Nicks is staying out of trouble, but she doesn’t add much to the album, for instance.
When Sheryl Crow one day assembles a greatest hits album, “Soak Up The Sun” and “Steve McQueen” will make it onto that album, but the rest of this work won’t get a second look.
This is a good album for ardent Crow fans, but those new to her music would be better advised to pick up her debut album or her aforementioned self-titled work.
I was expecting “Dracula 2000” to be a giant disaster of a film, but was pleasantly surprised by it. This film doesn’t have the ambition of, say, “Bram Stoker’s Dracula,” but it still takes the genre seriously and does right by it.
In many ways, the movie is extremely faithful to the original book, just presupposing that Dracula wasn’t able to be killed at the end of Stoker’s story, and was just sealed away instead, waiting for some idiot to free him from his imprisonment …
I don’t want to say more, but vampire fans will find a lot to like in this. There’s some nastiness with leeches that is even cooler when explained, nice dream sequences, excellent stuff with Dracula’s three new “brides,” solid acting by all involved (although no one in the cast is going to be up for an Oscar, they act to the best of their ability, and Vitamin C is surprisingly good — those interested in seeing the film for her might want to know that she’s the star of the film’s brief nude scene) and some good stunts and action sequences. There’s also a nifty Biblical origin given for vampires that I quite liked.
There’s one or two goofy bits — are we expected to believe streets in New Orleans’ French Quarter are EVER totally empty during Mardi Gras, any time of the day or night? — but overall, it was a nice lightweight vampire flick. Nothing brilliant, but not maddening in its stupidity like “John Carpenter’s Vampires.”
I’d rate it better than “John Carpenter’s Vampires,” but below just below “Fright Night” and a littler further below “Lost Boys” and “From Dusk Til Dawn” in terms of lightweight vampire flicks. A solid rental choice.
If you’re a kid who grew up in the 1970s — and still like rock and roll — Saturday Morning Cartoons’ Greatest Hits is a must-buy album. Many of the artists on the album weren’t well-known when this first hit the streets, although pretty much all of them deserve to be.
“Saturday Morning Cartoons’ Greatest Hits” benefits by having artists of the right generation (mostly) playing the covers. Everything from the amazing Liz Phair’s cover of the “Banana Splits” theme song to Matthew Sweet’s “Scooby Doo, Where Are You” to Sumblime’s “Hong Kong Phooey” to the Ramones’ “Spider-Man” are incredibly fun tunes that both evoke the classic cartoons and are representative of the musicians’ work.
I picked this album up the first day it was in stores, having heard choice cuts from it on Washington, DC’s WHFS all week prior, and it remains one of my favorite albums to this day, years later.
I only picked Higher Learning up during the Liz Phair drought waiting (seemingly forever!) for her “whitechocolatespaceegg” album. Her Grammy-nominated song, “Don’t Have Time,” really isn’t one of her better tunes, but it is a standout on this soundtrack … which should say something about the overall quality here.
This isn’t a bad album, per se, but it’s ultimately very ordinary.
|
|
