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Scripts
versus Special Effects in SF
Jane Palmer asks some tough questions of the SF/F film industry.
Like has plot taken one CGI-generated laser blast through the heart
too many?
With some early special effects
there is an excellence that still appeals today, as with the stop-animation
wizardry of Ray Harryhausen. And then there was that gravel pit
somewhere in Bedfordshire that frequently doubled as the blighted
surface of a planet on the other side of the Galaxy. On many occasions,
what the script could only imply, the imagination was required to
fill in.
Now,
state-of-the-art special effects can bring to life the disconcertingly
exotic to downright impossible. They do it so well in some instances
that there has been a drift away from any reliance on dialogue.
Once dragons can really breathe fire and monsters morph before
your eyes, why should characters need to say anything intelligent?
And all too often they don't. Perhaps there isn't much you can say
to a scarily realistic demon from the dungeons of Hell and, in the
case of ‘Lord Of The Rings’, do you really want to hear it at that
decibel level?
After being astounded by the SFX whizz kids' genius there can
often follow the niggling awareness that something is missing. On
other occasions script and animation marry together to create the
odd masterpiece like ‘Toy Story’, ‘Antz’ and ‘Monsters Inc’.
Other effects can also be astounding, with prosthetic makeup life-like
enough to give adults nightmares and camera work capable of shooting
you into space with such vigour it stuns the optic nerves.
Given the expense and expertise involved, why is it frequently
so difficult to engage with the plot, care too much about what happens
to characters and almost wish that you could whistle over the nearest
black hole and call 'lunch!'?
For a long while, I resisted acquiring a colour television for
many, probably irrational, reasons I won't list here. However, having
an ancient aerial regularly used as a perch by wood pigeons the
size of pullets, eventually reduced the signal to the texture of
coarse grey sandpaper.
Until then I had used the TV as virtual wallpaper while I worked
on other things, occasionally paying attention when a programme
took my interest.
Most apparent through the blizzard of bad reception was the variable
programme quality. ‘Frazier’, (detective) ‘Frost’, ‘Father Ted’
and ‘Edge Of Darkness’ and films as such as ‘Brazil’ (Terry Gilliam),
‘A Matter Of Life And Death’, ‘Forbidden Planet’, etc, all held
the interest despite the dire picture quality. Some recent productions
more dependent on special effects were just tedious.
Recently the BBC re-ran a few episodes of ‘Blake's 7’. When they
were first televised I cannot remember being very impressed. Compared
to more recent SF series, it was a surprising revelation to discover,
despite the cardboard sets and obligatory gravel pit, that ‘Blake's
7’ actually had scripts with continuity, character and - wonder
of wonders - genuine wit.
When I recently acquired a new aerial and colour TV, my perspective
should have been transformed. There was food appetising enough to
convert an anorexic and flowers that were special effects in themselves.
And then there was the new school of animation and SFX.
At last it was possible to see how some productions could get by
on predictable plots and lacklustre dialogue when the special effects
were so stunning. In some cases, as in Babylon 5, the whole was
well thought out and convincing. In others, the script was little
more than a device to link action and special effects.
Taut dialogue, well written, can be electric. There is an art
to inferring plot and meaning without using verbal semaphore. Not
everything has to be a soap competing for an audience by driving
the plot harder and harder until it crashes into the realms of derivative
fantasy.
When the plot does not match the stunning special effects, it
can also be bogged down by the same old 'human' perspectives and
self-interest paraded in alien form. Some SF series have become
nothing but soaps where leaps of the imagination aren't exactly
provided with a springboard. As they progress on their tedious way,
the characters become universes in themselves.
They require the script to boldly investigate every emotional hang-up
and love match (between aliens who couldn't possibly have one gene
in common!) while the wide Cosmos waits like a glorious backdrop.
Of course, this touchy-feelie moralising, uncomfortable for some,
is what attracts many fans.
Perhaps I remember Quatermass too well and am attributing a 50's
practicality to more empathic times - as well as showing my age.
Modern special effects have opened up visual horizons undreamt
of a decade ago. Being early days, the possibilities can still seem
overwhelming. It is easy to see how the script can become subordinated
to astounding morphing monsters, infinity with a much more than
backlit pegboard to represent stars and cosmic vistas capable of
genuinely extending the jaded viewer's comprehension of the Universe.
Many recent, visually exhilarating films have already been relegated
to car boot sales. Some, like ‘The Men In Black’ and ‘Matrix’, will
be in video shops for a long while to come. If you have any doubt
about why some fail and others succeed, just switch off the picture
and listen to the dialogue.
Words are the window to a character's soul and the reason why the
witty thug will always be more interesting than the symmetrical
hero with a politically correct haircut.
We will always be offered high budget films dependent on the lowest
common denominator and TV series that run well past their useful
life to maximise product rights. Too many could make the viewer
jaded enough to ignore quality when it does appear. Familiarity
is the tool of the brainwasher.
The media knows this all too well.
Keep the special effects at all costs, but bring the back the
intelligent script.
Jane Palmer
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