hen I was growing up in Wisconsin, this time of summer was known as the dog days, their arrival marked by the appearance, on any open body of water, of a scummy green film—
No, I'm not talking about Hulk.
But July and August are traditionally the dog days of sci-fi viewing. The big blockbuster movies have already opened, surprising pundits by failing (have I mentioned Hulk?) or underperforming (Terminator 3) or making far more money than expected (Finding Nemo).
Television is a bit more promising, since several networks or services choose to launch programs in summer, rather than see them lost in the noise of CBS, NBC, Fox and even ABC (which hardly seems like a major net these days) fall rollouts, not to mention series-killing events like the World Series (which hardly seems like a major sports event these days).
For example, on USA, you have new episodes of Monk (which isn't sci-fi, but merely fun) and The Dead Zone, including "The Mountain," by yours truly. (This really doesn't qualify as a shameless plug, since it has already aired.)
There is the promising new Showtime series, Dead Like Me. SCI FI offers new episodes of Tremors and Stargate SG-1. Summer is also good for catching up on missed episodes of Smallville and Enterprise.
But what have I seen? T3, which struck me as an intelligent and well-made sequel. Had I never seen the first two Terminators, I'd have liked it a lot more.
Finding Nemo was utterly charming, a successful fantasy film by any standard, and probably my favorite movie of the summer. To judge by the box office, many of you agree.
Then we have League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Pirates of the Caribbean, two fantasy films from non-standard sources—LXG from a graphic novel by Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill, Pirates from, of all damned things, a ride at Disneyland.
I have opinions about both films, opinions I am reluctant to share. Why?
Because both films were made by friends of mine.
Business
and pleasure barely mix
Long before I started working in television, I had heard the old jokes about the prevalence of and need for friendships in show business. What was Hollywood's version of Ernest Hemingway's first big novel? The Son-in-Law Also Rises.
(I said these were old jokes.)
You had to know somebody, you had to be related to somebody, you had to have the right kind of connections to get anywhere in the entertainment business. "Merit" had nothing to do with it. So said the stories.
And a certain amount of that turned out to be true. It's easier to get hired as a production assistant on a television series if your uncle is the executive producer. Your access to a good agent is greatly improved if she happens to be an old friend from college.
On the other hand, I managed to get a job at a network, and to sell scripts, all without any pre-existing connections. So did my contemporaries—in fact, it wasn't until about 1992 that I actually worked with a colleague who had grown up in the business. (His grandfather had been head of a major studio 50 years earlier.)
At every step of the way, at a network, on various assignments, on various series staffs, I made friends, people who would hire me later—people I would hire later.
(The corollary to having friends is making enemies. Now, it is undeniably true that any writer with a strong point of view is going to anger someone, sooner or later. A studio or network executive, a director, an actor or another writer.)
(The trick is to pick an enemy who won't wind up heading a network five years later, blackballing you far and wide.)
(If you can do that bit of sci-fi extrapolation or speculation, please contact me with the your stock market tips. ...)
In any case, I've made friends and I've made enemies. I have played the Hollywood game, without guilt.
Here's why: When I was 16, searching around my small Midwestern hometown, I realized that all the good summer jobs had been snapped up. The window company? Great job, great pay, but children of current employees had priority. The best jobs were working for the city—road repair. (Wisconsin has two seasons ... winter and roadwork.) Those jobs, too, went to relatives and friends first.
I wound up working part-time at a gas station, and only because a friend told me about the opening.
Yeah, showbiz jobs depend on personal connections and friendships.
Just like every other job in the world.
Faulty films could fracture friendships
The benefits of a beautiful friendship, to quote Rick Blaine from Casablanca, are obvious. But friendship has its price, too.
How do you criticize a friend's work?
I found League of Extraordinary Gentlemen incredibly disappointing. The original concept—a group of Victorian-era superheroes team up to fight a supervillain—was charming and filled with possibilities.
But the resulting film was as badly directed as anything I've ever seen. When this giant Nautilus submarine—a vessel clearly about seven stories tall—pulls up to a dock on the Thames River (maximum depth a fraction of that), I knew I was looking at a film that treated time and space as irrelevancies. The production design was dark and confusing. I could not explain the plot to you if you put a gun to my head and threatened to shoot.
"Shooting" is the one thing there's a lot of in LXG: The movie rivals T3 in the expenditure of ammunition per screen minute. (Fortunately for the members of the League, the bad guys can't actually hit anything but bookcases and other furnishings.)
The casting was, to put it mildly, bizarre. Sean Connery is always a promising lead, though ultimately he was wasted in his role. Who on earth was the actor playing Captain Nemo? And why? Pirates works better, on every level, without ever becoming a great movie. The casting is superb, the locations faultless. There are moments of genuine fun, especially in the swordplay, in Geoffrey Rush's performance, and in Keira Knightley's presence.
But the movie is at least 20 minutes longer than it needs to be—a criticism that could be leveled at a number of other recent movies—and its use of its fantasy element a bit inconsistent. I'm happy I saw it; I would not pay money to see it again.
Now, let's see how long my friends remain friends.
Michael Cassutt has 70 produced television and film credits, most recently for USA's The Dead Zone. He has also published numerous short stories, articles and books, including the forthcoming novel, Tango Midnight (Forge, November).
