Month / June 2008

by Edward Champion

Keith Gessen

What to do about Keith Gessen? I have, aside from a few satirical posts referencing ancillary parties, remained silent about the man. There were a few desperate propositions from others to interview him for The Bat Segundo Show: one from an n+1 intern and one from a publicist. Lots of flattery directed my way. But I politely declined. I felt that interviewing Gessen, who seems to prize himself above all else, would position me within that undistinguished maw of gossip, and I have tried to avoid these atavistic incisors whenever possible.

This afternoon, I stumbled onto a post at Young Manhattanite and left a comment, suggesting that Keith Gessen, however loathsome his actions, was not a guy to get in a tizzy over. That he was someone who would eventually go away. Then I left the apartment, walked around, and got lost for several hours in a very interesting book about fish. All this was before I was aware of this Gawker post or Keith Gessen’s troubling Tumblr blog, which I first thought was satirical, but now realize is a staggering cry for help. And I now know that my instincts were sound all along.

Keith Gessen is a very troubled man going through a very public breakup. But he’s also a man who desperately wants to matter. And in wanting to matter, he now occupies a Donnean islet, obsessing over what others write about him on the Internet, reproducing the emails, basking in them like a masochist. Whatever your feelings about Gessen, this is a sad and terrible and unhealthy impulse. And I want to urge Gessen to leave his apartment, walk around, and get lost for several hours in a very interesting book about fish. Or at the very least not give a shit. I can’t imagine what Paul Slovak’s thinking right now. That is, if Slovak’s thinking about one of his authors past the six-week publicity window.

I’m Gessen’s age. And there was a time in my mid-twenties when I felt similar to the way Gessen now feels. Many young men go through this. It’s not unusual.

But there comes a time in a man’s life, roughly around the age of thirty, in which he must make an important decision about how he accepts himself, remaining as humble as possible so that he can embrace others and enjoy the wonders and follies of life. If he does not, his next few years will be very difficult for him.

I suspect Gessen has not had that moment. And it is for this reason that I urge all parties to not comment upon or regard the man. This is something that Keith Gessen has to do on his own. Blogging won’t help you and it won’t help him.

by Edward Champion

Bad Publicity Ideas, #425

Publishers Weekly: “As entrées were being enjoyed, a McCain supporter and an Obama supporter, having exhausted their verbal arguments, lunged at each other with fists flying. Eventually the kitchen staff came to the rescue and separated the two men, but not before some blood was shed and the well-heeled guests were shaken up. After a cooling down period, the rambunctious guests returned to the table (with revised seat assignments) and ate dessert.”

That a publicist actually thought that such a dumb could be carried off with a modicum of civility is truly hilarious. Then again, here I am mentioning this. So perhaps there’s a more interesting question: Will the bourgeoisie of Litchfield, Connecticut embarrass themselves and allow themselves to be used as marketing guinea pigs again? (via Jacket Copy)

by Edward Champion

Why George Lucas Should Be Punched in the Face

Get it while you can before Lucasfilm shuts the site down: Frank Darabont’s 2003 draft (PDF) of Indiana Jones and the City of the Gods. I’ve read the first 50 pages (when I should be doing other things) and it appears that David Koepp and George Lucas dumbed Darabont’s draft down big time, diluting many of Darabont’s ideas for the final cinematic product. Henry Jones is in the draft. Marion has dialogue that matches her Raiders incarnation, complete with many Casablanca homages, and she’s married! Indy gets drunk and sings. Indy mutters “Damn kids” when he sees the hot rodders and kicks ass in a car chase.

Yeah, there’s still the bullshit about the four waterfalls and the lead fridge. But if we had to deal with Lucas’s contrived story, Darabont’s version is the Indy 4 film that should have been made. Spielberg and Ford both loved it. It was Lucas who got his talentless knickers in a bunch over the idea of presenting “his” hero as even remotely flawed. (via Vulture)

by Edward Champion

Mark Ames Shuts Down eXile

Russia has become a deadly place for journalists of all stripes. In 2006, journalist Anna Politkovskaya was mysteriously killed after criticizing the war in Chechnya. Thankfully, Mark Ames remains alive. But his fortunes have taken a turn for the worse because of these conditions. After writing about Russian government officials conducting an unplanned audit of his iconoclastic expatriate newspaper, Mark Ames has been forced to shut down The eXile.

by Edward Champion

The Real Enemy Mine vs. The Reel Enemy Mine

My review of The Reel Stuff, an anthology of horror and speculative tales turned into Hollywood films edited by Brian Thomsen and Martin H. Greenberg, appears in today’s Los Angeles Times. In addition to the reading (in most cases, rereading) I had to do for the review, I watched many films: hence, the crazed kudos for Candyman posted at some ungodly hour not long ago.

Johnny Mnemonic had the consolation of some unintentionally hilarious moments and Screamers was a hoot, complete with a distinguished Canadian actor licking a knife and scowling, “It’s never sharp enough.”

But the worst film of the bunch was Enemy Mine. I hadn’t seen the film in almost two decades, but time had not been kind. Its failure, however, had less to do with its sweeping production value (even with the visible matte lines) and more to do with its almost total bastardization of Barry Longyear’s Hugo and Award-winning novella. Aside from changing the book’s ending to include a literal mine (did they really think the audiences were that dumb?), screenwriter Edward Khmara and director Wolfgang Petersen placed less emphasis on Davidge’s unexpected role as surrogate father, introduced over-the-top meteor showers, and otherwise muted the novella’s themes of war and camaraderie. There is even a terrible moment in which Pepsi product placement gets Dennis Quaid excited.

Longyear’s novella was collected in a handsome book put out by White Wolf called The Enemy Papers, which also featured two other stories, “The Last Enemy” and “The Tomorrow Testament,” set in the same universe. But this went out of print. Thankfully, the book is also available through Back in Print. Longyear also has a website and an interesting history.