When you're writing a blog, and you have no idea what's about to emerge from your fingertips, there can be some twinges of nerves. Perhaps it's not going to work this time? Perhaps you've used up your limited stock of creativity and are now a walking, talking waste of space? Maybe you've done too much mathematics? It's nerve-inducing. In these cases you do, as I am doing now, a little exercise and just type.
'How are you doing today?', 'That's a nice hat.', 'Are you glad to not be in New York?' and 'My head is too wide, please bring one with a bigger hole.' are all perfectly serviceable comments and questions for small talk and even general shopping but are they good content for a blog? What is 'good'? For information on this question, or no information at all, I refer you to the 'Complete Prose' of Woody Allen, one of my all time favourite books. It has also been a major inspiration to parts of my writing and work. Woody Allen is one of the most divisive comedic figures you can possibly imagine. By turns hilarious and incomprehensible it's hard to find material of his which is indisputably funny, and the 'Complete Prose' is definitely one of those. I refer you to 'What if the Impressionists were dentists?' and leave it at that.
Looming out at Aberystwyth from my office window, requiring as it does some dangerous acrobatics and cranking of the neck on the fourth floor, it is beginning to seem real that I'm back and maybe even will be successful in some endeavours. This is alarming. Even now clouds of self-sabotage are amassing on the horizon, vying to bring me back down to Earth. Will this downfall take the form of the dreaded Papanastasiou Regularisation? I hope not. Will the LLB condition finally break all my work down to its elementary constituents and blow it out to the seas? It's a terrible thought. Might a bubble function erupt from the firmament of FreeFEM++ and sweep me away into the gloom of mediocrity? It's possible.
Putting aside all the doubts of madness, mathematics, and giant space faring alien lemons, things are finally working.
<Waits for piano to fall>
<Nothing>
It can't last. The hideous lambasting of Heinz on Film Bin will come back to haunt me. Five kinds of torment will shriek down when organising Internet for the new flat. My mouse mat will turn out to be defective and made of cheese! And 'Night Trials' will never come to an end but continue on as an endless shlock science fiction serial. Images of 50s horror hostess Vampira will haunt me despite her looking kind of silly and not scary at all. Doom!
Oooh, I should write another 'Night Trials'. Good idea. That's the thing to take from this post. Well, that and the fact that it's really not that hard to write a few paragraphs and post it in the modern age. Well done, Internet!
Oliver.
Wednesday, 30 January 2013
Monday, 28 January 2013
The importance of mousemats
Here in my new office all is going very well. It's true that I made the old minus sign error AGAIN but that can hardly be helped. 'Who needs a yield stress anyway?' is the rhetorical question I always deploy so that I can move on to the next problem. Of first priority is the purchase of a new mousemat, something that will make life infinitely more practical. A mousemat is the most important item in any modern computer user's office without doubt. Mine has swirls and will be delivered soon.
'Do you see swirls when I do this?'
The second most important thing about a new office, and the first day of a new job, is to find a good place to walk around and work off those programming and work stresses. Fortunately this is Aberystwyth and I have years of experience in aimless roving already. Who needs pacing on boring flats when you have hills, hills and more hills? Perhaps they'll find me one day, endlessly circling in an ambling path, muttering 'no, not with this plain old mousemat, not like this' and do the inevitable thing.
'Whoooooah... it never did that before!'
--
paean: (ancient Greece) a hymn of praise (especially one sung in ancient Greece to invoke or thank a deity)
'Oh swirly mousemat, you are most lurid,
For which I thank you, oh swirly mouse mat.'
That wasn't quite a paean to my mousemat but it was close, lacking as it did the true heartfelt tone of a paean to the old gods seeking help or giving thanks. The mousemat is by the most important thing to ever occur in this office, and that includes the pagan cake sacrifices that took place in 1994 during the last funding troubles.
O.
PS New commentary up at Film Bin, and it's for the pilot episode of one of my favourite tv shows: Due South! We're planning to do all the episodes. Keep your eyes peeled.
'Do you see swirls when I do this?'
The second most important thing about a new office, and the first day of a new job, is to find a good place to walk around and work off those programming and work stresses. Fortunately this is Aberystwyth and I have years of experience in aimless roving already. Who needs pacing on boring flats when you have hills, hills and more hills? Perhaps they'll find me one day, endlessly circling in an ambling path, muttering 'no, not with this plain old mousemat, not like this' and do the inevitable thing.
'Whoooooah... it never did that before!'
--
paean: (ancient Greece) a hymn of praise (especially one sung in ancient Greece to invoke or thank a deity)
'Oh swirly mousemat, you are most lurid,
You fill my office with colours lucid,
And do allow fluffy bunnies to assist
In these mathematics I can not resist,For which I thank you, oh swirly mouse mat.'
That wasn't quite a paean to my mousemat but it was close, lacking as it did the true heartfelt tone of a paean to the old gods seeking help or giving thanks. The mousemat is by the most important thing to ever occur in this office, and that includes the pagan cake sacrifices that took place in 1994 during the last funding troubles.
O.
PS New commentary up at Film Bin, and it's for the pilot episode of one of my favourite tv shows: Due South! We're planning to do all the episodes. Keep your eyes peeled.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
The incredible value of being silly
Throw a stick, any stick. Did it come back? Ah, then it wasn't a boomerang.
Such esoteric thoughts as those expressed above really epitomise the intended nature of this blog. Huzzah, it is truly wonderful that we can do things like this now, proclaiming to the whole wide world whatever we wish without fear but with hope of maybe reaching someone who thinks in some of the same ways that we do.
priggish: exaggeratedly proper
worldliness: the quality or character of being intellectually sophisticated through cultivation or experience or disillusionment
canto: a major division of a long poem
This capacity, this privilege, is unprecedented throughout history. For centuries, people in privileged countries have had the ability to write but not distribute freely, but we have both now and we can not only distribute but broadcast. It is awesome. We don't have the ability to make people read what we write except through good fortune and exceptional talent but the opportunity is there. It's really overlooked and taken for granted though, against the background of ubiquitous frivolity such as Facebook and Google+. Think about we can do for a moment. There, isn't that great? Isn't that awesome?
Now, it is awesome that we can speak to the world and of course that has a flipside, the dark side of the coin. That flip side is the rapid evolution in worldliness that comes from the world wide web. We open ourselves up and inevitably get the negative effects and rejections that cause cynicism to set in. We lose the ability to be wilfully innocent in many ways as we're exposed to junk, scams, smut and advertisements. Now, I don't say 'innocence' but 'willful innocence', where both can be reasonably used. That is simply because we don't know to even emulate innocence any more. We could even be thought of as priggish, exaggerated toward the loss of innocence and incursion of worldliness. It's sad.
How can we reconcile the incredible liberty to communicate with the world with the accelerated worldliness that is its consequence? Well, it's hard. There are no obvious answers. The easiest thing would be to exercise good judgement to begin with but most of the damage is done in childhood and it always has been. This is not new. Long before the Internet it kids in the school yard, then radio, film, and finally television. The current canto in the long lyrical development of the global social community is the Internet. The world hasn't ended; it has merely become more cynical if not worldly. There's a little less fun.
Even if there's a little less fun, we can still throw a stick and watch it not come back. We can be silly if we want, and our main goal is to encourage silliness. It may seem impossible to lighten the mood of the world to make hard things seem easier, but... 'What if we could?'.
Go out and be silly. It's fun.
O.
Such esoteric thoughts as those expressed above really epitomise the intended nature of this blog. Huzzah, it is truly wonderful that we can do things like this now, proclaiming to the whole wide world whatever we wish without fear but with hope of maybe reaching someone who thinks in some of the same ways that we do.
priggish: exaggeratedly proper
worldliness: the quality or character of being intellectually sophisticated through cultivation or experience or disillusionment
canto: a major division of a long poem
This capacity, this privilege, is unprecedented throughout history. For centuries, people in privileged countries have had the ability to write but not distribute freely, but we have both now and we can not only distribute but broadcast. It is awesome. We don't have the ability to make people read what we write except through good fortune and exceptional talent but the opportunity is there. It's really overlooked and taken for granted though, against the background of ubiquitous frivolity such as Facebook and Google+. Think about we can do for a moment. There, isn't that great? Isn't that awesome?
Now, it is awesome that we can speak to the world and of course that has a flipside, the dark side of the coin. That flip side is the rapid evolution in worldliness that comes from the world wide web. We open ourselves up and inevitably get the negative effects and rejections that cause cynicism to set in. We lose the ability to be wilfully innocent in many ways as we're exposed to junk, scams, smut and advertisements. Now, I don't say 'innocence' but 'willful innocence', where both can be reasonably used. That is simply because we don't know to even emulate innocence any more. We could even be thought of as priggish, exaggerated toward the loss of innocence and incursion of worldliness. It's sad.
How can we reconcile the incredible liberty to communicate with the world with the accelerated worldliness that is its consequence? Well, it's hard. There are no obvious answers. The easiest thing would be to exercise good judgement to begin with but most of the damage is done in childhood and it always has been. This is not new. Long before the Internet it kids in the school yard, then radio, film, and finally television. The current canto in the long lyrical development of the global social community is the Internet. The world hasn't ended; it has merely become more cynical if not worldly. There's a little less fun.
Even if there's a little less fun, we can still throw a stick and watch it not come back. We can be silly if we want, and our main goal is to encourage silliness. It may seem impossible to lighten the mood of the world to make hard things seem easier, but... 'What if we could?'.
Go out and be silly. It's fun.
O.
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Movie: 'Quigley Down Under' (1990)
This is interesting. And incredibly simple. It seems like some of the most satisfying things in the arts are both interesting and simple. 'Quigley Down Under' is a western set in Australia. Starring Tom Selleck as Matthew Quigley, the story splits very neatly into two strands of his visit to Australia as a new employee of rancher Marston, as played by Alan Rickman. Actually the neatness of the two strands is what really makes this film interesting, as either one by itself would be unfulfilling. So let's break it down.
Ace marksman Matthew Quigley answers an ad and goes to Australia to investigate a job opportunity with Marston. On the way to the ranch with Marston's hands and some new pleasure women, he is adopted by one of those women, Crazy Cora. Taking her under his wing as protection from the ranchers, he discovers Marston's real reason to recruit him and his experimental long range rifle: Extermination of the aboriginal people. Revolting and attacking Marston and his henchmen, he gets battered and dragged out to die in the desert with the deranged Cora, where the movie takes off. From then on the two stories are Quigley's relationship with Cora as played by a lovely Laura San Giacomo and his quest to bring Marston down.
The relationship between Quigley and Cora is actually very touching as their ordeal together and witnessing of the persecution of the aboriginals slowly brings her back to sanity and helps her to come to terms with her own personal trauma. The quest to bring down Marston is less interesting but is a necessary contrast to the more personal Cora strand. Rickman does his usual serviceable job as the villain but is really wasted by the script. If you have Rickman as the villain you really need to use him more! Selleck does a good job but you can never buy him as implacable. He plays angry well, and maybe determinedly angry, but not ruthlessly implacable. It's really hard for Tom Selleck to overcome his innate screen niceness. Giacomo is excellent as Cora and it's a shame that her unconventional looks didn't win her a movie career. In many ways the combination of Quigley and Cora is one of the better pairings in movies that I've seen. She has the cutest teeth.
I'm making a habit of positive reviews... Blast!
In many ways this movie is an old-fashioned Western, a throwback to a simpler time, and it works well. As a marksman, Quigley's action scenes are pretty tame as he's most effective at a distance from his enemies, but it's believable. The aboriginal scenes are touching and the persecutions are torturous, and it all leads naturally and organically to the preordained showdown. There are some really nice touches that make this is a solid movie, most notably the shooting physics. I like that we see a delay in the bullet reaching its target, that's awesome, and the understated performances, and the fact that Marston is not such a horrible man that he's a cartoon. It's all well balanced. The music is incredible, if a bit too repetitive, and Basil Poledouris should have earned plaudits aplenty. Let's hope he did.
In summary, 'Quigley Down Under' is a very solid Western movie, not excellent but solid. In these days solid is the new excellent, and I like this film. The acting is well done, the direction is excellent, the music is good, and the Cora story and character arc is touching and almost ends in the rare non-resolution. It's a good movie. I like it.
O.
Ace marksman Matthew Quigley answers an ad and goes to Australia to investigate a job opportunity with Marston. On the way to the ranch with Marston's hands and some new pleasure women, he is adopted by one of those women, Crazy Cora. Taking her under his wing as protection from the ranchers, he discovers Marston's real reason to recruit him and his experimental long range rifle: Extermination of the aboriginal people. Revolting and attacking Marston and his henchmen, he gets battered and dragged out to die in the desert with the deranged Cora, where the movie takes off. From then on the two stories are Quigley's relationship with Cora as played by a lovely Laura San Giacomo and his quest to bring Marston down.
The relationship between Quigley and Cora is actually very touching as their ordeal together and witnessing of the persecution of the aboriginals slowly brings her back to sanity and helps her to come to terms with her own personal trauma. The quest to bring down Marston is less interesting but is a necessary contrast to the more personal Cora strand. Rickman does his usual serviceable job as the villain but is really wasted by the script. If you have Rickman as the villain you really need to use him more! Selleck does a good job but you can never buy him as implacable. He plays angry well, and maybe determinedly angry, but not ruthlessly implacable. It's really hard for Tom Selleck to overcome his innate screen niceness. Giacomo is excellent as Cora and it's a shame that her unconventional looks didn't win her a movie career. In many ways the combination of Quigley and Cora is one of the better pairings in movies that I've seen. She has the cutest teeth.
I'm making a habit of positive reviews... Blast!
In many ways this movie is an old-fashioned Western, a throwback to a simpler time, and it works well. As a marksman, Quigley's action scenes are pretty tame as he's most effective at a distance from his enemies, but it's believable. The aboriginal scenes are touching and the persecutions are torturous, and it all leads naturally and organically to the preordained showdown. There are some really nice touches that make this is a solid movie, most notably the shooting physics. I like that we see a delay in the bullet reaching its target, that's awesome, and the understated performances, and the fact that Marston is not such a horrible man that he's a cartoon. It's all well balanced. The music is incredible, if a bit too repetitive, and Basil Poledouris should have earned plaudits aplenty. Let's hope he did.
In summary, 'Quigley Down Under' is a very solid Western movie, not excellent but solid. In these days solid is the new excellent, and I like this film. The acting is well done, the direction is excellent, the music is good, and the Cora story and character arc is touching and almost ends in the rare non-resolution. It's a good movie. I like it.
O.
Wednesday, 23 January 2013
Tiny flakes of frozen water
It's snowing for a second time here in Pontyates, which is surely a sign of some kind of oncoming apocalypse. At the slightest hint of snow here in Britain a laughably extreme reaction seems to break out in the citizens. There's a certain manic look that pops onto the faces of people, which I equate to that of a frantic heron, as they detect that first snowflake and sprint to their cars in search of bread and milk before anyone else can buy it all in a massive binge. Yes, they are in immediate danger of being buried under a massive snowdrift falling from the sky as one bulk mass, and they must get home, they must. Schools have special detectors that can see snowflakes from up to two miles away and immediately send everyone home just in case a child gets hit with a dirty snowball. Oooh, topical! (And unfair to schools.)
As my bus is turned back, and the prospect of meeting my appointment in Llanelli recedes like a dream in a whirly stream of colour, I sit here doodling and wondering how we are so bad at dealing with snow. We are laughed at by the whole continent and it's easy to see why. Five years ago we could maybe make a case for being surprised and unprepared but it now snows heavily every year at about the same time. There is no excuse anymore, and it is actually kind of annoying. I would hate to get overly political but maybe investing - not cutting - some money in snow equipment would help the economy and allow efficiency and activity instead of shutting down whole regions of the country. That is all.
I feel certain this is all connected to December 21st ending the world, and the fact that I'm still getting hordes of junk e-mail for Madeline Reeves. That is still inexplicable to me. I'd rather get my own junk e-mail, thank you very much, and now I'm being buried under junk astrology spam as well as cosmetic advertisements and all other kinds of pap!
<pauses for a moment>
As I abort my rant, which is now in abeyance until a more suitable time such as meeting the mythical Ms Reeves, the snow continues to fall harder and harder and the prospect of egress from this little village becomes more and more remote. We may all be trapped here until the end of time, or until a desperate rugby fan digs a trench out to the nearest train station to make an international in Cardiff.
And now I close, wishing you all a wonderful time playing in, looking at, or cursing the snow. Isn't it lovely?
O.
<Throws hands up in disgust and walks away>
As my bus is turned back, and the prospect of meeting my appointment in Llanelli recedes like a dream in a whirly stream of colour, I sit here doodling and wondering how we are so bad at dealing with snow. We are laughed at by the whole continent and it's easy to see why. Five years ago we could maybe make a case for being surprised and unprepared but it now snows heavily every year at about the same time. There is no excuse anymore, and it is actually kind of annoying. I would hate to get overly political but maybe investing - not cutting - some money in snow equipment would help the economy and allow efficiency and activity instead of shutting down whole regions of the country. That is all.
I feel certain this is all connected to December 21st ending the world, and the fact that I'm still getting hordes of junk e-mail for Madeline Reeves. That is still inexplicable to me. I'd rather get my own junk e-mail, thank you very much, and now I'm being buried under junk astrology spam as well as cosmetic advertisements and all other kinds of pap!
<pauses for a moment>
As I abort my rant, which is now in abeyance until a more suitable time such as meeting the mythical Ms Reeves, the snow continues to fall harder and harder and the prospect of egress from this little village becomes more and more remote. We may all be trapped here until the end of time, or until a desperate rugby fan digs a trench out to the nearest train station to make an international in Cardiff.
And now I close, wishing you all a wonderful time playing in, looking at, or cursing the snow. Isn't it lovely?
O.
<Throws hands up in disgust and walks away>
Monday, 21 January 2013
Never trust a stocky Texan in a near future gladiatorial robot movie
With great trepidation and courage I have settled down to watch 'Robot Jox' and am being surprised by it beating my admittably rock bottom expectations. Of course it is incredibly easy to surpass expectations that only barely manage to register on an electron microscope.
This week is a busy one as I managed to successfully navigate my way through an interview last week and am now faced with the incredible opportunity of... working. That's right, it is time to return to the stone face of mathematics! A prerequisite of doing that is finding accommodation, and I do so hate moving house. It's ironic for an academic to be intolerant of travel, but here I am and it is surely true. Still, at least I'm moving to Aberystwyth, a wonderful place by the sea, with rocks and squalls and swimming pools and space for cycling. There shall be much cycling.
In other news, Barack Obama was sworn in for his second term as President of the United States today. Well done, Mr President, you may not be perfect but I rate you over the opposition. I have a hunch Obama II will be a far different thing to Obama I, with a few more things attempted. We shall see.
Oh no, 'Robot Jox' has degenerated into two men in silly suits clubbing each other. Silly. I think we'll have fun talking about this one, if only because Gary Graham was rather dopey. "We can live!" Oh just kill him already. Good grief, has the bad guy relented? Yes? Yes? He has! Chalk up ultimate redemption for 'Robot Jox'! That was an unexpected little movie, but please don't watch it, you people out there, it's not that good!
With that I leave you now, dear imaginary readers. I fully believe you are all robots really, but nonetheless you deserve content. I shall continue to foist these silly offerings on you all as punishment for your devotion.
<retrieves keyboard from the blasted Clomp>
Good night.
This week is a busy one as I managed to successfully navigate my way through an interview last week and am now faced with the incredible opportunity of... working. That's right, it is time to return to the stone face of mathematics! A prerequisite of doing that is finding accommodation, and I do so hate moving house. It's ironic for an academic to be intolerant of travel, but here I am and it is surely true. Still, at least I'm moving to Aberystwyth, a wonderful place by the sea, with rocks and squalls and swimming pools and space for cycling. There shall be much cycling.
In other news, Barack Obama was sworn in for his second term as President of the United States today. Well done, Mr President, you may not be perfect but I rate you over the opposition. I have a hunch Obama II will be a far different thing to Obama I, with a few more things attempted. We shall see.
Oh no, 'Robot Jox' has degenerated into two men in silly suits clubbing each other. Silly. I think we'll have fun talking about this one, if only because Gary Graham was rather dopey. "We can live!" Oh just kill him already. Good grief, has the bad guy relented? Yes? Yes? He has! Chalk up ultimate redemption for 'Robot Jox'! That was an unexpected little movie, but please don't watch it, you people out there, it's not that good!
With that I leave you now, dear imaginary readers. I fully believe you are all robots really, but nonetheless you deserve content. I shall continue to foist these silly offerings on you all as punishment for your devotion.
<retrieves keyboard from the blasted Clomp>
Good night.
Saturday, 19 January 2013
Movie: 'Outland' (1981)
The movie 'Outland' was styled as 'High Noon in space' by many people and the similarities are easily seen. It's deliberately designed to replicate the shear difficulty and time involved in travel and defence in the Old West. It also has lots of guns and metal swinging bar doors like in the old saloons and a cranky doctor with a funny name. Directed by Peter Hyams, it has a lot of the high quality touches he brought to a lot of dodgy movies such as 'Sudden Death' and '2010'. Fortunately no one fights a penguin mascot in this movie as they did in that latter example!
Now, to the plot, which takes place almost entirely on a remote mining station on one of Jupiter's moons. The station is 70 hours by shuttle from the nearest supply station, and the journey home to the Earth takes an average of a year in suspended animation. In short, those miners are a long way away from civilization. The new Marshall O'Niel is rapidly drawn into conflict with the local company boss, and slowly uncovers a drugs ring being run by the company to improve productivity, whose corruptions extend even into the local police. Finally, after a large body count rises up, his wife has left him to go back to Earth with their dopey son, and he finally pricks the local doctor's conscience into action (she's called Dr Lazarus), it comes down to a prolonged battle sequence between O'Niel (well played by Sean Connery) and the boss Shepherd's (Peter Boyle) imported goons. Those goons come in with the full 70 hour warning of the shuttle ride, allowing some tension to rise.
Now, 'Outland' is actually a rather impressive movie, although a little gory and graphic for my tastes. The visuals may be a little gratuitous at times but Connery grounds it with his usual gravitas. Did anyone ever have more gravitas than Sean Connery? He just forms a gravity well on screen that pulls your eyes to him no matter what's happening. It's a solid supporting cast, where no time is wasted on theatrics. I reserve special mention for Frances Sternhagen as Dr Lazarus, who was actually awesome in some bizarre way I can't define. It may be just her breaking out of the mold of her 'Cheers' character Esther Clavin in my head. Oh, how I like Frances Sternhagen. Ahem, Sternhagen worship aside, the cast is solid although Peter Boyle is a bit unconvincing. Maybe it was the wig being stamped on his head under that baseball cap that was inhibiting him.
In a science fiction movie, and this is on the 'hard' side of science fiction, visual effects are key and those shown here in this movie were great for 1981. The only way you might consider them bad is if you compare them to the near-contemporary 'The Empire Strikes Back' which was unparallelled in its efforts and made EVERYTHING look bad. The music is an excellent Jerry Goldsmith score, defying my view of him being someone who is usually overrated. The ending is a good, if somewhat standard, on-the-run battle between O'Niel and the assassins which can be considered a technical and thrilling suspense without being particularly memorable.
On the whole, I like 'Outland'. It's a curiosity and an example of Connery in the odd part of his career, that portion where leading men should really disappear and skip 'graying' for the eventual white haired distinguished look. Here he does it better than he would in other examples. It's a strong effort, and I think that most people would appreciate it, although if you're prone to boredom you might want to stay away. Oh, and if you're sensitive then be ready to avert the eyes from time to time.
O.
Now, to the plot, which takes place almost entirely on a remote mining station on one of Jupiter's moons. The station is 70 hours by shuttle from the nearest supply station, and the journey home to the Earth takes an average of a year in suspended animation. In short, those miners are a long way away from civilization. The new Marshall O'Niel is rapidly drawn into conflict with the local company boss, and slowly uncovers a drugs ring being run by the company to improve productivity, whose corruptions extend even into the local police. Finally, after a large body count rises up, his wife has left him to go back to Earth with their dopey son, and he finally pricks the local doctor's conscience into action (she's called Dr Lazarus), it comes down to a prolonged battle sequence between O'Niel (well played by Sean Connery) and the boss Shepherd's (Peter Boyle) imported goons. Those goons come in with the full 70 hour warning of the shuttle ride, allowing some tension to rise.
Now, 'Outland' is actually a rather impressive movie, although a little gory and graphic for my tastes. The visuals may be a little gratuitous at times but Connery grounds it with his usual gravitas. Did anyone ever have more gravitas than Sean Connery? He just forms a gravity well on screen that pulls your eyes to him no matter what's happening. It's a solid supporting cast, where no time is wasted on theatrics. I reserve special mention for Frances Sternhagen as Dr Lazarus, who was actually awesome in some bizarre way I can't define. It may be just her breaking out of the mold of her 'Cheers' character Esther Clavin in my head. Oh, how I like Frances Sternhagen. Ahem, Sternhagen worship aside, the cast is solid although Peter Boyle is a bit unconvincing. Maybe it was the wig being stamped on his head under that baseball cap that was inhibiting him.
In a science fiction movie, and this is on the 'hard' side of science fiction, visual effects are key and those shown here in this movie were great for 1981. The only way you might consider them bad is if you compare them to the near-contemporary 'The Empire Strikes Back' which was unparallelled in its efforts and made EVERYTHING look bad. The music is an excellent Jerry Goldsmith score, defying my view of him being someone who is usually overrated. The ending is a good, if somewhat standard, on-the-run battle between O'Niel and the assassins which can be considered a technical and thrilling suspense without being particularly memorable.
On the whole, I like 'Outland'. It's a curiosity and an example of Connery in the odd part of his career, that portion where leading men should really disappear and skip 'graying' for the eventual white haired distinguished look. Here he does it better than he would in other examples. It's a strong effort, and I think that most people would appreciate it, although if you're prone to boredom you might want to stay away. Oh, and if you're sensitive then be ready to avert the eyes from time to time.
O.
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