The Ultimate Enemy is still Man: Outland

There have been times I’ve purposefully turned a blind eye to wrong doing. Usually small inconsequential things that were unlikely to cause real harm, others not so much. I’m not proud of it and I’ve nearly always regretted it, but it still happens and I think I can venture to say I’m not alone in my guilt. It’s a regrettably human trait, but when we’re surrounded by others who are willing to ignore a problem there are exceptionally few who will risk rocking the boat.

I was recommended Outland (1981) - not to be mistaken with Outlander (2008) - by Paul Gravett a few months ago as an example of an “intense environment” in space comparable to my own setting of Branch, so finding it at bargain price I gave it a much overdue watch.

The synopsis is a familiar one: set aboard a future mining colony on the Jupiter moon ‘Io’ the arrival of a new police Marshall William O’Neil (Sean Connery) stirs up trouble amongst workers, administration and fellow officers alike as he begins investigating a string of unexplained suicides. It’s an admittedly simple setup which stripped of its sci-fi setting, might just as easily be a traditional cop thriller or western of the ‘law man visiting a corrupt locale’ template. At the same time, just as Paul Gravett’s recommendation indicated, I would argue that the setting is one of the film’s most distinctive features.

Being set in a location so distantly removed from civilisation it’s the perfect scenario for human behaviour to go astray, with boundless greed and corporate corruption lent credibility through the environment. Taking a hard sci-fi approach, visually the movie has aged quite well thanks to the functional design seemingly drawing upon traditional mines and oil rigs. There are some surprisingly considerate details too further enforcing the ‘form follows function’ design approach – if you’ll excuse me being a total nerd – perishable foodstuffs are a rarity onboard, believable safety measures are shown and the only firearms used by the police are shotguns; an obvious precaution against puncturing walls and causing decompression. Just about everything has a grimy, worn in quality which on most occasions proves entirely immersive, essentially feeling like a living breathing work space rather than a glorified stage set.

Of particular note is the impressive claustrophobia nurtured throughout adding to the intensity with very little in the way of open spaces and the few there are being dimly lit, gloomy hovels. Even during sequences in the vacuum the grubby space suits perpetuate the sensation of being cramped, leaving the occupants and viewer no escape from the oppressive atmosphere. I’d also like to draw attention to the recurring motif of a hexagonal tunnel (below), for me a visual which creates a disturbing connotation to bee hives in light of station’s obsession with productivity at any cost.

It’s the latter aspects which I would most likely draw upon in my own work, attempting to replicate the feel of a tangible universe through effective implementation of a used future aesthetic. I’ve already researched local industrial estates as a part of my inspiration so the functional, work ready feel of film is of most obvious use to me. But more than this, I suppose what I really want to capture that Outland does so well is the sense of being trapped, overwhelmed and having no escape.

It couldn’t really be called cyberpunk mind you. ‘Low humanity‘ is on display throughout but the technology is incidental with the thematic focus being the enduring greed of humankind rather than the ramifications of killer robots, genetic engineering, cyborgs or computers. Indeed, the film is quite remarkable in this regard for its sheer restraint and maturity. There is some action along with obligatory moments of gross out horror but for the most part this is a slow burner with atmosphere and story taking precedence of crowd pleasing set pieces.

In line with this, the central cast are somewhat offbeat aswell. Yes, O’Niel is played by Sean Connery but he makes for an atypical protagonist compared to typical macho men of the 80′s, there’s a weariness to the character which meshes perfectly with the environment and offsets the usual ‘lone hero’ clichés. Rather than being the traditional man with nothing to lose™ he’s shown to be a more dimensional human being with a great deal to lose in the form of his travel jaded wife and child.

Additionally, I’d like to highlight the lack of so-called “eye candy” for men. The only major female character Dr. Lazarus (Frances Sternhagen) is thankfully not the plucky young recruit; being bitter, middle-aged and sensibly clothed for the duration. She also serves as a good parallel to O’niel, being similarly disillusioned with the situation on station and having some great snarky dialogue. At any rate, for once its nice to have an older cast who don’t seem preoccupied with being photogenic.

On the downside the film does have its failings. For all the emphasis on realism it still indulges in the erroneous assumption that space suit and airlock decompression causes the body to explode, there’s at least one redundant plot twist and overdubbed child actors should frankly be forbidden from cinema. The real elephant in the room though is simply how heavily indebted to Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979) it is; everything from the opening titles to the gritty used future aesthetic wears the Alien stamp but in spite of its obvious aspiration Outland never really approaches the brilliance of its predecessor – I couldn’t quite shake the feeling there was xenomorph shaped hole in the film…

There are standout moments however, my favourite being where O’Niel – having uncovered and destroyed the administration’s drug supply – discovers he has been marked for death. Realising he can’t even count on the other police officers for protection, he walks into the crowded worker dining hall and quite literally asks them if anyone can help him; a request no one answers. Considering the situation out on the far reaches of human development with the only common motive for work being greed, it’s a scene that’s chilling but also utterly believable. Everyone would much rather turn a blind eye than risk what they have on a trivial instance of justice in the middle of nowhere.

Outland isn’t a great film, but it is a surprisingly good one. Alien may have taught us that in space no one can hear you scream, but Outland tells us that even if someone does hear you the chances are they won’t give a damn.

Practice in Context: Finished!

Having handed in the requisite essay today along with my research and planning folders, this essentially marks a conclusion to the MA’s Practice in Context module – finished!

Ahem. Anyway; I’m feeling pretty positive about what I submitted, but I won’t brag or complain just yet lest it comes back to haunt me in the feedback… What I will say is that this leaves me freed up to start drawing pages again and update my blog more regularly. According the course handbook the next module will be Design Strategies and Practice so it’s about time I made a real push with the latter. More soon :)

Cat Women of the Moon: Science/sexist Fiction?

When I visited the British Library’s Out of this World exhibition last month, I happened to overhear a school teacher leading a class of young children around. Stopping in front of a poster not unlike the one above, she quizzed the pupils:

“What do you notice about the lady in this poster?”

“She’s being chased by an alien.”

“And what else about her? What about what she’s wearing?”

“She’s not wearing very much…”

While I doubt the inquisitive child grasped the implications of this point, the innocent observation sparked a line of thought for me which was seemingly answered in the form of BBC radio programme ‘Cat Women of the Moon’.

I may not have addressed gender directly in my research and writing and it’s not the focus of my comic, however I do believe the topic has indirect relevance all the same. Taking its title from the 1953 B-movie of the same name, Cat Women of the Moon considers gender, sex and the portrayal of women in science fiction, inviting an array of genre writers and theorists to consider what the kind of all female society featured in the film might signify about the real world and the motives of author and reader alike.

Ideally science fiction entertains with its escapist elements while addressing real world issues via their subtext; at the start of the programme prolific author Ian M Banks makes an optimistic statement of the genre’s advantages, stating that ‘In science fiction you can change human nature… you can question things like gender in a certain way and sexual roles and so-on.’  Specifically contemplating this topic Nicola Griffith – another respected contemporary SF author – also supports this point, saying:

‘There’s nothing science fiction writers and readers like better than to turn over the stones of cultural institutions and look at the assumptions wriggling underneath. So science fiction gets to ask of gender: what if our understanding of gender is wrong? What if it doesn’t have to be this way? What if we can change it? Science fiction basically can turn gender from a war or a life sentence or a prison, to a game or a fashion statement or even a rollercoaster ride.’

This freedom and opportunity to challenge established trends is undeniable, but taking an objective look at the genre’s history gender roles are as commonly affirmed or exaggerated as they are shaken up.      

The motive behind the original ‘Cat Women’ was more likely fear of rising feminism and the challenging of male dominance than the championing of female empowerment; the titular characters presenting an exotic nemesis rather than sympathisable protagonists. The programmes presenter Sarah Hall – another renowned sci-fi author – points out that even established literary classics such as George Orwell’s 1984 and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World  suffer remarkably stunted views regarding women given their revolutionary tone. As she puts it:

‘In these books both the female leads Julia and Lenina seem trapped by conventional notions of the standard, slightly lesser female – even while the authors pushed valiantly against ideas of sexual conformity (…) are they failures on the part of the authors to blue sky think where female characters and female roles are concerned?’  

Just as society itself has progressed in its gender views though, so has much of the genre’s writing.  Nicola Griffith’s 1994 novel Ammonite might be seen as a more balanced modern equivalent of the ‘Cat Women’ scenario, something contrasted with the more regrettable tropes she attempt to transcend:

‘Women were either evil man haters, or they were rather dim or they were six-feet tall wise, kind vegetarian amazons which is what you got with the utopian feminist books of the 70’s and 80’s – or they were poor pathetic frightened creatures. I wanted to write a world with different cultures; it wouldn’t be a monoculture it would be different cultures where women would play all the roles. They would be smart and stupid, they would be traders and protectionists, they would be angry and relaxed. They would play everything, they would simply be people.’     

Another author on the programme – Farah Mendlesohn – supports this point latching onto a similar issue in the genre’s portrayal of women:  

‘women need to stop being women and start being people, when people think people they think MEN… Women are still the add on extra; in all children’ cartoons or in an awful lot of Hollywood movies they’ll be five men with lots of distinguishing characteristics and the woman; and the woman’s distinguishing characteristic is to be a woman (…) women are people and they have to start thinking of themselves as people.’  

It would be nice to say that this sort of thing has died out in contemporary fiction, it’s definitely diminished in recent decades at least but I think it’s safe to say there’s still a fair amount of it drifting about in popular culture.

Take a film I saw recently for example; Zack Snyder’s Sucker Punch. 

From a directorial or visual standpoint the film was highly accomplished and I felt there were interesting ideas involved, but as I heard one reviewer aptly put it there was a sense of dishonesty to the whole thing which I could never quite shake. It’s not the sort of barefaced misogyny we might of seen in the past, but the alleged intention to empower its female cast doesn’t withstand scrutiny.

With most of the story taking place in their minds, the question begs how credible the fantasy really is: Why the fetishised outfits? The predominant setting of a bordelo? The erotic dance routines? I left the cinema with an uncomfortable feeling the fantasy was more likely intended for a male demographic in search of action and sex appeal. Not exactly an outrageous intention by today’s standards but perhaps the fact it’s so readily accepted in mainstream cinema is the more disturbing point.

In my own work I think I made subconscious choices about characters’ gender and how they are portrayed, but I’ve neglected to give it any serious thought until now which seems like an oversight. ‘Scratch’ – a ‘tough’ cyborg detective figure and my main protagonist – ended up being a woman mostly as a way of ducking under unfortunate macho clichés so frequently bestowed on men, but also because I felt a female detective would be more interesting.

I find my self questioning this motive now: Why exactly should a female detective be more interesting? Because it’s a stereotypically male role? Because it’s abnormal? While on the surface I do want her to be an empowered character of distinct personality, part of me worries this could be inadvertent indulgence in a ‘tough woman‘ novelty – something I wish to avoid at all costs. The choice of gender and generally masculine appearance does have some grounding in the themes and setting at least. The use of the term ‘procedure’ in my script I felt likens the operation for cyborg enhancement to a sex change, in this sense supporting the idea of her gender identity being warped by the alterations.

There’s interesting territory to explore in this regard, but I need to be careful it’s to complement my subject matter rather than for flimsy personal reasons. As the quotes highlight, science fiction presents a nearly unparalleled freedom for reinvention of societal norms and altogether disregarding the matter of gender in my scenario would be a wasted opportunity.

At the very least, I promise there won’t be skimpy sailor uniforms any time soon…

Page 9

Ack, feel like I’m sneaking into class late here…

It goes without saying that this is another embarrassingly late post as for one reason or another I just couldn’t get the page done until now. I suppose this is especially disappointing given that I’d intended to work for weekly updates now I’m posting elsewhere but it ultimately came down to either rushing out something severely dissatisfactory or delivering a more accomplished page at a later date. I could rave on about how I’m justified by the quality over quantity argument, but I’ll stick with a summary: I suck, I’ll try harder.

Unfortunately things will almost certainly be stalled again in the immediate future as my impending Practice in Context deadline means I’ll have to prioritize my essay till the deadline on the 26th. It’s another area that’s been a little neglected lately and a timely reminder not to lose focus on the goals of the MA, I’ll attempt to squeeze in drawing but I think the next page is liable to appear around the end of the month rather than next week. Sorry but consistent releases will have to wait :(

The page itself is a bit of a mixed bag. I’m getting to some of the more interesting story material now as Curt runs into cyborgs for the first time and begins to develop a phobia which plays a prominent role in the ensuing narrative.

I tried to make his growing discomfort with what he’s seeing apparent in the artwork by emphasising the attendant and guard’s grotesque enhancements; the second and third panels reflect composition and posture between Curt and the man on desk drawing attention to their similarities (both being in fairly low-level jobs) while also stressing the startling difference. The last panel meanwhile marks the rising tension with hard lines around the implants, aggravating their unsettling presence and bringing the guard who was formerly in the background to the centre of the reader’s attention.

While these parts turned out as I’d hoped the effect is unfortunately marred by the weaker first and fourth panels  which suffer from unrealistic anatomy and perspective issues – they’re acceptable perhaps but someway off from my best. The colour too could have been much stronger; I’m aiming for a washed out, overexposed sort of look in this setting but the tones feel a little off balance to me. I’ve likely said it before but colouring is something I’m still adjusting to, with the necessary experimentation naturally leaving some casualties along the way – this page is one of them.

Outside of scrutiny on single panels/aspects though there is a stronger sense of flow than earlier pages, with more continuity and less of the disjointed progression formerly criticised by Paul Gravett. It’s a small thing but progression in anything is good news to me, the sense of imbalance is still pervasive but I’m starting to get a foothold on the problems.

Anyhow, I’ll try to get another page out as soon as I can but for now it’s time to hit the books and get writing.