Awards Celebrating the Best in “Canadian” Film…but are they?

So…the Genie Awards were handed out the other night — celebrating “the best in Canadian film”. While a few weeks back there was an announcement that the TV equivalent (the Gemini Awards) were contemplating — or perhaps had made — changes to their categories.

And it just got me thinking about what is meant, and intended, by such awards — and, yeah, I’m re-visiting a topic I wrote about concerning last year’s Genies. But the fact that I can write about it again…kind of demonstrates my point. Or, at least, that it does seem to be turning into a chronic situation.

But when one is celebrating the “best” in “Canadian” film (or TV) — how do we define that concept. Not “best”…but “Canadian“!

Among this year’s nominees were A Dangerous Method, David Cronenberg’s fact inspired drama about Carl Jung (you’re only as “jung” as you feel) and Sigmund Freud (don’t be a-freud…I know what I’m do-ink). A Dangerous Method is apparently an international co-production, and continues Cronenberg’s long march away from his early roots as the bad boy horrormeister of Canuck Cinema. Now, technically, A Dangerous Method is partly Canadian, at least I’m assuming so, in so far as some of the money was put up by Canadian producers. But as a film, as a creative enterprise, how “Canadian” was it? Sure, the director is Canadian…but it was written by an Englishman, the main roles going to Brits and Americans, and was shot in Europe (using, therefore I assume, a largely European crew) about European historical figures. To be fair, perhaps Canadians filled out some of the behind-the-scene roles, of costume designers, or sound editors. But as far as the great unwashed public will perceive sitting down with their popcorn in the darkened theatre…just how “Canadian” is A Dangerous Method? As Canadian as, say…Avatar (actually, Avatar was arguably more Canadian, because at least it was also written by a Canadian!) In other words: not very Canadian.

Yet A Dangerous Method snagged one of only five slots for nominees for Best Canadian Picture.

Viewed by itself, it’s not much of an issue. Except when you realize it was part of a whole Co-production Mafia (to use the cheeky phrase that is applied to cliques these days — as opposed to literally suggesting awards host George  Stroumboulopoulos was waking up next to a horse’s head). Other nominees this year in various categories included The Whistleblower and The Bang Bang Club. All these movies deal with legitimate, important topics — nor am I saying they might not be great, award-worthy movies. I’m just asking: are they Canadian-award worthy movies. (And that’s not even mentioning the film Oliver Sherman — the director happily bragging in interviews about how he made sure it was NOT identifiably set in Canada, as if he was somehow pursuing an artistic vision — and not just a U.S. distribution deal — by fighting off all those bad boy executives who begged him to set it in Canada).

And, again — there’s no reason there can’t be room at the table for one or two such films, not at all. It’s when they start to dominate the table, nudging people with their elbows, and reserving seats for their friends, that it becomes more of a concern.

As well, of the ten Best Actor/Actress nominations this year…six went to non-Canadians. And of the four wins for lead and supporting actor/actress…3 went to non-Canadians (which is better than last year, when all the acting awards went to non-Canadians). And let’s make this clear. By “non-Canadian” I’m talking about people who have no connection to Canada, nor interest in being part of the Canadian film biz. Some of Canada’s greatest artists weren’t born in Canada, but nonetheless are as Canadian as snow (well, snow before this whole Global Warming thing). By non-Canadian I’m talking about people who only were in Canada long enough to shoot their scenes…then flew away again. Actually, given that a number of these films were not even shot in Canada…in many cases, the first time the stars might have set foot on Canadian soil is when they showed up at the Genie Awards! (And even then — many didn’t even show up for that!)

Now, this is the dilemma, ain’t it? Should a non-Canadian actor be denied recognition just ’cause they aren’t Canadian? If they gave a kick ass performance, they surely deserve recognition for it. Nor should a second rate Canadian performance be awarded simply through luck of citizenship.

But it does raise a question of what the Genies are celebrating about “Canadian” film when 60 percent of the best actor nominees aren’t Canadian, and many of the films are only deemed Canadian by virtue of who signed (some of) the pay stubs — and not because the talent is Canadian or the movies are about Canada, or Canadian characters.

So in that sense, perhaps it’s partly in the balance. If an American or British actor stars in a Canadian movie, made by Canadians, and set in Canada it’s less problematic than if it’s a movie where hardly any of the key elements in the film are Canadian.

Though I’m troubled by the preponderance of non-Canadian actors nominated (and winning) in the acting categories…I’m not sure I see an equitable way to curb it. That is, I suspect the imported actors snag a disproportionate number of nominations not because they are delivering inherently superior performances to the Canadian actors, but simply because they are imported stars — the more internationally famous the nominees, the more likely the Genie telecast will get better ratings, the more “legitimate” the awards will seem, and the academy voters and selection committees (or however it’s chosen) are, frankly, starstruck. I mean, one can’t help inferring something in the fact that one of the Genie nominees was American actress Michelle Williams (for the film Take This Waltz) and was featured prominently in the TV commercials for the Genie Awards — and Williams was just recently an American Oscars nominee for the movie My Week With Marilyn, making for a bit of cross-marketing synergy, eh?

Perhaps worse — it becomes an inherent reward to producers, a wink and nudge encouraging them to hire imported stars, because even if the movie tanks, and gets middling reviews, at least they suspect they’ll probably get some Genie love. I mean, it used to be producers claimed that hired imported actors because it was necessary to score at the box office…now it seems like it also is a good way to insure Genie Awards notice, too.

Indeed, one can’t help suspecting a lot of the academy voters haven’t seen or even heard of many of the movies being nominated, so that the nominees really are chosen simply because, well, voters at least know who they are — even if they haven’t seen the actual film for which the nominees are being nominated!

Yet to forbid such nominees and winners would be unfair to the imported actors themselves who, after all, are guilty of nothing more than acting their hearts out in a production (one assumes) they truly believed in.

Years ago, the Genies (I think back when they were the Etrogs) had separate categories for Canadian and non-Canadian actors. But that, too, was awkward — seeming to send the message that the Canadians couldn’t compete with the “real” actors” from abroad.

I guess, in a sense, it’s more a character thing, whether you believe in the integrity of the academy and the voters. Either you believe the awards and nominations are doled out according to merit, and nothing more…or you believe they are being skewed to favour the glamorous imported “stars”. And like with too many tests of character — it’s hard to legislate it. Banning imported actors from being nominated would be unfair to them. Separating the two into different groups would be insulting to the Canadians.

But if the individual talent should be free to be judged equally, regardless of citizenship…I do question the production itself. That is, A Dangerous Method should be able to be nominated in various categories (acting, editing, music, etc.) but maybe it shouldn’t be able to be nominated in the Best Picture category — maybe that should be reserved for movies more unarguably Canadian. Now I have no doubt the producers (and their PR flak catchers) would throw a conniption fit if such a thing was proposed. But really — why? I mean, surely the point of such an international co-production is that it already has a leg up on the competition — PR and international distribution most Canadian films can’t even dream about. It doesn’t need a Genie win (or nomination) — indeed, I’m not sure how much of a boon a Genie win is, anyway. Oscars and Golden Globes supposedly boost ticket and DVD sales…but after that, I’m not sure. The DVD shelves are full of movies proclaiming various wins and accolades from a multitude of obscure venues (“winner of Best Picture at the 900th annual East Balkan Arts & Crafts festival”). I’m not sure a Genie win really helps sales. It’s more just a source of pride knowing you were supported by your peers (even if only with a nomination). So again…isn’t it supposed to be honouring “Canadian” effort…not movies that can qualify as nominally Canadian because of some funding loophole?

I suppose one could make the analogy to an athlete hopped up on steroids demanding he be able to compete with all the normal athletes.

Now, to be fair — A Dangerous Method didn’t win Best Picture. For all its money and prestige and international cast, it was beaten by the French-language film Monsieur Lazhar (with, um, its own imported leading actor). So doesn’t that prove I’m making a mountain out of mole hill? Maybe…maybe not. Because it still took one of only five spots for nominees. And even if an award win is of dubious marketing value…a nomination can be viewed as almost as good — DVD boxes never shy about proclaiming something was “nominated” for an award. I’m sure there were plenty of Canadian movies that would’ve been happy to get a nomination, a spot on the team, but couldn’t, because A Dangerous Method took the last free spot — veins popping and red eyed with steroids.

Now recently, the Canadian TV awards — the Geminis — were dealing with a similar dilemma, with big international co-productions, some with only nominal Canadian involvement, walking away with the Best Series award (and three of the five nomination slots). Winning maybe on merit — or, equally, winning simply because they were enjoying more write ups in the press, had bigger budgets, and a “prestigious” international cast and creative team. So the Geminis announced they were going to split the best series category into Canadian series and co-productions (leaving the acting categories as a level playing field where the Canadians in Canadian series would have to hold their own against the international stars in their international productions). Granted, I can imagine headaches arising, trying to decide what counts as what. And though the international co-productions might win a disproportionate number of awards — I’m not sure they make up a disproportionate number of shows, so I could well imagine a category that might only have two or three nominees in any give year. Still, perhaps it’s a good compromise. By keeping the acting categories mixed, it says: we believe, talent to talent, Canadians can stand (or fall) next to imported stars. But by separating the actual series, it acknowledges that an international co-production will have an advantage in terms of budget, and publicity (the voters bombarded with a tsunami of articles and interviews that make the PR surrounding most domestic series seem more like a garden hose spray) that can’t help but influence the voters, regardless of artistic or even commercial merit (I believe The Borgias, which won best series last year, actually had smaller ratings than some homegrown productions).

Though I can imagine a lot of arguing over the nuances of what counts as “Canadian” and what as a “co-production” — a series like Flashpoint is, technically, a co-production, but in any artistic/creative sense is all-Canadian. So it would seem to belong in a category with, say, Republic of Doyle rather than The Borgias or Camelot.

If we were to apply such a solution to films — or even simply disqualify the merely nominally Canadian films from being nominated in the top category — the real question would be: how would you make the decision? Where’s the demarcation?

Well, in radio, when Canadian content regulations are applied to music, I believe the elements of a song are broken down into categories — performer, producer, composer, and where it was recorded. (Or something like that) And a song qualifies as “Canadian” if it has at least two (maybe three) of those categories. Maybe the same formula could be applied to films. Instead of some arcane question about who funded what, which the average viewer has no way of following or understanding (and could care less about), maybe a movie could be broken down into various categories: setting/character (ie: is it set in Canada or about a Canadian character); lead actors; director; writer; filming location; producer. Something like that. And a film would need at least three or four of those categories to be counted as “Canadian” — which still allows for a lot of latitude, and even for international co-productions to still count as “Canadian”. And, yes, if a director of a movie like Oliver Sherman is happily bragging to the press about how his movie isn’t explicitly set in Canada…then he has to accept that he’ll be taken at his word and the film will be judged as not being set in Canada (but the film would probably still count as Canadian because even though its top billed star, and its setting, wasn’t Canadian…I think everything else about it was)

Now the irony is, whenever such things are proposed, there is often an immediate backlash — by the people who have enjoyed the benefits of the current system. Immediately they will scream “censorship” or xenophobia. When it’s actually kind of the opposite. For one thing — this doesn’t preclude someone making the movies they want to make, hiring the actors they want to hire, it merely says shouldn’t the “Canadian” film awards be reserved for, y’know, Canadian movies? As well, shouldn’t we define “Canadian” by  something that involves a lot of Canadian aspects (actors, crews, settings) rather than saying Canadian should be defined simply by a single director, or a producer? Isn’t that the creepier attitude? By that reckoning we should count Hollywood movies as Canadian if they happen to be directed by a Canadian, or star a Canadian — and, yeah, believe me, there are people who argue vehemently for that.

Some years back there was a fuss in radio because a Bryan Adams song was judged not Canadian enough to count as “Canadian Content” (based on those various categories I mentioned before — Adams, the performer, was Canadian, but most of the other elements apparently weren’t). Adams and his supporters were furious — Adams himself denouncing the whole Can-Con thing as something that protects and fosters mediocrity! Now, one can see a certain irony — Adams denouncing Can-Con regulations…because he no longer gets to benefit from it. But the irony about Adams’ anger was that in no way, shape, or form would being disqualified from “Canadian Content” prevent or even hinder his song being played on the radio. It merely meant that instead of a radio station counting his song toward the 30 percent (or whatever it is) of airtime devoted to domestic music, he would be played among the 70 percent of songs that aren’t Canadian — in other words, Adams would just have to fight for a slot among all the big international acts, which is where he and his supporters felt he belonged anyway. At this point Adams was an international star, and wasn’t even living in Canada, so he really shouldn’t need the nurturing protection of Can-Con. Likewise, if a producer makes a movie that in most respects isn’t particularly Canadian…why should they be up-set if they don’t qualify for a Canadian nomination?

Again it all gets back to the question of what is the point of the Genies or the Geminis? If they are not celebrating the best in Canadian productions…then what are they? Simply another generic awards show? Sloppy seconds for films that got snubbed at the Oscars?

Of course, part of the problem is that the Genies remain an awards show in desperate search of something to celebrate. By that I mean, while the Oscar movies enjoy a buzz months in advance, often the Genies arrive kind of like an unexpected guest on your doorstep. Whereas the Oscars will be proceeded for weeks by articles talking about the front runners and the dark horses, big city news papers often featuring columnists ranking the nominees, who will win, who should win, who might win — often in Canada one gets the impression even entertainment reporters who make their living covering entertainment news haven’t seen half the films. Heck — in any given year, many of us might not have seen many of the films nominated for the Oscars…but we still might have an opinion, simply because we’ve read so much about them. Whereas in Canada, often one can look at the list of Genie nominees…and see movies you didn’t even know existed! To be fair, there’s usually a buzz around one particular film — this year it was Monsieur Lazhar, last year it was Barney’s Version. Sometimes there’ll be a buzz around a particular performance (I’m thinking of Maury Chaykin years ago for Whale Music, or even Paul Giamatti for Barney’s Version). But even then, it can often feel like the winner is predetermined, and the rest of the nominees are just there to fill the seats. Unlike the Oscars where there’s usually at least a bit of suspense as to who will have their name called. In Canada, the only time there’s suspense, is not because there are a bunch of nominees with buzz…but because none of them have generated much buzz.

Sometimes that’s because there aren’t any particular stand outs in a category — everyone nominated having done good, professional work, but nothing breathtaking. Sometimes, though, it’s because there is no momentum — the movies having opened and closed months ago, and even if the critics at the time complimented the actors…everyone has long since forgotten by the time the awards role around…even the co-productions which, as often as not, have long since been lost in the log jam of new movie releases.

For that matter, how often do you read a review of a Canadian film where the critic comments that the actor should be remembered come Awards time? They say that about American films all the time. And how much is that a problem with the films, or the actors — and how much with the critic’s mentality? I often see Canadian movies and TV shows where a performance will strike me between the eyes — but I sometimes think with a lot of reviewers, they aren’t looking for that. When a critic watches George Clooney in a movie, they are instinctively asking themselves “how good is Clooney in this role?” but when a lesser known Canadian actor gives a tour de force, do critics just kind of shrug, recognizing it was a good performance…but not taking the next step of highlighting it in their review, or suggesting it warrants “buzz”? Which I think maybe relates to my earlier point about being starstruck.

To be honest, I’m not really sure I’m recommending any changes to the Genies — and despite my frustration at seeing Canadians shut out of the acting categories, as mentioned, I can’t really see it as any fairer to deny Vanessa Paradis or Viggo Mortensen their right to a statue if their performance deserves it. But sometimes it’s worth just, y’know, clearing the air — to say what needs to be said, and to get people thinking about where things have been, where they are, and where they might be headed.

So I guess all one can do is write essays like this one — saying to the academy, you know what you’re doing, I know what you’re doing. I can’t stop you from doing it…but let’s just agree you aren’t fooling anyone.

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Are There Re-Makes a-Waiting in Canadian Film & TV?

Looking to Hollywood, re-makes are a veritable sub-industry. Nor is it quite the modern phenomenon some think. Silent movies got re-made as sound movies, black & white re-made as colour, radio shows became movie serials, movie serials became movies, movies became TV series…and back again.

Re-makes can, of course, engender cynicism. “What?” we ask, “can’t they be original?” And we can also feel a bit offended. If they do a re-make of an old classic, and botch it, we think they ruined it. If they do a remake, and do it well…we can feel miffed, as the new generation now embraces the re-make as the “definitive” version.

But maybe there is a cultural and creative value to re-makes — keeping an old story alive, even if in a slightly adulterated form. Is it better to treat a classic film as sacrosanct, knowing that young folks will leave it unwatched simply because it’s old? Or is it better to have it re-made for a modern generation…possibly even bringing the original back into vogue in the process? (How often has a re-make hit the big screens…and suddenly the near forgotten original is cropping up on late night movie shows again?) Some classics become classics…precisely because they are constantly re-imagined. Where would James Bond be if they had stopped when Sean Connery quit the role? Probably another Harry Palmer and hardly the international icon he is today.

There’s even something to be said for remaking bad movies! Movies that had good ideas, but were mucked up in the execution. The late Hollywood director John Huston once made a comment along those lines, that he didn’t see why people re-made good movies…when there were not-so-good movies he’d like to take another try at.

All this got me to thinking about Canadian film & TV. An industry always struggling for success, rarely quite grasping that brass ring. Are there old Canadian movies and TV shows that might warrant a re-make, a re-imagining? Either things that were successful at the time and, possibly, lightning could strike twice…or things that weren’t that successful in their day, but the core idea, the basic plot and characters, held out the tantalizing promise that with a little more finesse, they could’ve worked? And does it maybe lend some credibility to a film if you can say it’s a re-make? Basically suggesting to the audience that the concept has already been taken for a test drive, and was found to be sound…or at least that the bugs have now been worked out?

(And I should mention I’m thinking, as usual, about the English-Canada industry — French-Canada has a history of re-making beloved old classics — such as Les Plouffes and others.)

Curiously, I sat down to write this at a propitious time — because the CBC has recently aired the TV movie Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town which, in addition to being based on a century old book, the material was previously utilized for one of the network’s earliest TV series (back in the 1950s) as well as a radio adaptation (also I believe in the ’50s).

There have been occasional examples of re-makes — or, at least, movies drawing upon the same source material. There have been two bio-pics about Norman Bethune (both starring Donald Sutherland!) and two flicks chronicling Terry Fox’s iconic Marathon of Hope. Though even those examples are few.

Canada perhaps has a legitimate reason to look to remakes — because of the country’s bilingual status. The Two Solitudes, as it’s been called. Might there not be great movies in one language that could find a new audience if re-made into the other tongue? Yet, to my knowledge, there has only been one example of such a translated film — the thriller Liste noire which was re-made as The List. Unfortunately…I didn’t much care for either version (and the English language re-make was set in the U.S. with an American cast to headline; hardly a “Canadian” version of the story). But what about movies with a solid “concept” premise that would probably speak just as well to Anglophone sensibilities as Francophone? What about an English-language La Grande seduction? Or Jesus de Montreal? CBC TV briefly experimented with turning a couple of popular French-language sitcoms into English — Sophie and Rumours. Neither was successful. But maybe there wasn’t enough of a “concept” to them…or maybe that concept didn’t translate well. Personally, I’d think a better candidate for an English remake might be Fortier, a crime-drama about a civilian lady psychologist who aids the police. Or maybe the Twin Peaks-esque Grande ourse. Or the political satire Si la tendance se maintient.

As for old English language movies that might be worth re-visiting? The Changeling was one of a small handful of movies made during the notorious Hollywood North tax shelter era that was actually regarded as pretty good…yet still ended up bombing (not unlike the well-regarded Murder by Decree and one or two others). Everyone who has seen that particular ghost story seems to remember it well…maybe it’d be worth a re-visitation. I’ve always fondly recalled an obscure low-budget thriller called Sudden Fury…yet most people have never heard of it. Maybe it deserves a second audience with a re-make. Or I’ve sometimes thought the alien invasion movie, Starship Invasions, could’ve been a fun little pop corn movie with a little more money and polish. Or private eye Benny Cooperman was featured in a couple of TV movies starring Saul Rubinek — made it’s time to call him out for another case! Maybe Aaron Abrams could tackle the role.

Scanners pretty much put David Cronenberg on the cinematic map, a sci-fi horror movie about telepaths notorious for its gory exploding head scenes. It’s a rare thing in English-Canada to have a Canadian-conceived movie spawn sequels…but Scanners did. A couple of low-budget Canadian ones, with even Americans moving in on the franchise with the “Scanner Cop” movies. Admittedly…I’m not sure what legs the concept has (the sequels all fared poorly). As mentioned, its main claim to fame was the “shock” effect of the violence. Still — it has a “name” recognition factor that might fuel a new movie — or even a TV series (with toned down violence). Hopefully ones with some money and better than the previous, low-budget sequels which were pretty missable. The original Scanners was set in Canada…but the sequels all went the route of being set in the U.S. So maybe it’s time someone returned the franchise to its Canadian roots.

What about Wojeck — English-Canada’s first and seminal TV hit, about a socially crusading coroner? It worked once, it might work again. Granted, it’s a hard formula to get right — DaVinci’s Inquest was a similar idea…but I’d argue wasn’t really anything like Wojeck. Still, worth a thought. So who could play Steve Wojeck today, a role personified by John Vernon as a steely-eyed force of nature? When re-casting signature roles, you don’t want an actor so different that you lose the character…yet it’s probably a futile quest to seek an actor who could just impersonate the original performer. The key is to figure out what is the essence of the character, the characteristics that define him, rather than worrying about whether the new guy looks like the old guy. In that sense, I could almost picture Brian Markinson as a good choice for the takes no guff crusader. For some reason, Currie Graham also comes to mind — maybe ’cause he can look suitably disapproving and he’s got the height more evocative of Vernon.

And what about Strange Paradise? In the 1960s, American TV landed a surprise cult hit with the supernatural soap opera Dark Shadows. And Canadians followed with the similarly themed Strange Paradise — which enjoys a (minor) cult fame even 40 years later! But a re-make of Strange Paradise would only partly be banking on name recognition…and more on simply being, y’know, a wild story about curses and ghosts! Maybe it could be brought back, not as a TV series, but as a mini-series, or a one-shot movie. So who could play the aristocratic and cursed Jean Paul Desmond (played by Colin Fox originally)? I dunno. Maybe Christopher Heyerdahl. Or Colm Feore. Or Eric McCormack.

Adderly was a comic-adventure series (think Republic of Doyle, only about spies) about a secret agent who could give James Bond a run for his money…who had been relegated to a lowly office after an injury left him with a crippled hand. But his small cases usually kept turning into big ones, anyway. I mean, what’s not to like about a series about a suave secret agent with a signature black glove on one hand who, even with a clipped wing, was still the smartest, toughest guy in the room? Just as a series’ premise, Adderly could probably endure a resurrection. But, with that said, a lot of its appeal relied on Winston Rekert’s irrepressible charm and devil-may-care grin — as well as Dixie Seatle as his admiring Girl Friday. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of an obvious replacement…but then, prior to Adderly, I might not have pegged Rekert as so ideal for the role, either. Though part of me could see calling in Vincent Walsh for a line reading.

King of Kensington was a rarity in the 1970s — a successful English-Canadian TV sitcom. Could the trials and tribs of a big hearted corner store owner in a pluralistic downtown neighbourhood stand a dusting off and a re-invention? Perhaps of all the properties here, it’s the one that still retains a certain “name” recognition. I could see Gary Basaraba basically transplanting his performance in Mixed Blessings over to the Kensington Market and taking on the mantle of the King.

And what about the misadventures of…Flavius Maximus, Private Roman “I”? A trademark of the seminal Canadian comedy duo, Wayne & Shuster, was their complex, long form sketches. One of their most famous was their Julius Caesar spoof, “Rinse the Blood Off My Toga” — told as a private eye story about a Roman gumshoe named Flavius Maximus played by Wayne. And the duo reprised Flavius at least once (in a sketch called “The Burning of Rome Caper” or something) only with Flavius now a police officer. I’ve always wondered if there was legs to that concept — either as a movie, or a weekly series — a comedy about a private eye in ancient Rome (that could be billed as “based on the comedy of Wayne & Shuster” — now how’s that for Canada honouring its artistic roots?)

And what about…The Starlost? Even today this early 1970s science fiction series retains a certain recognition factor. Unfortunately, it tends to be a negative recognition factor (as in “Oh, I remember that terrible show”). But, y’know, maybe any recognition is better than no recognition (or as Captain Jack Sparrow said, when told he’s the worst pirate someone’s ever heard of: “Ah…but at least you’ve heard of me!”) Besides — the fact that Starlost is remembered is, I think, because it did have something…a mystique…a feeling that if done right, it could’ve been something special. But though Canadians tend to view it as a Canadian series…I get the impression Americans view it as an American series that just happened to be filmed in Canada. Off and on I’ve heard rumours of re-makes being considered…usually from American corners.

Or how about a big budget, live action version of…Rocket Robin Hood! Yeah, that cartoon of the cheesy animation but the irresistible premise of setting the Robin Hood legend in outer space. Granted, I’m not thinking of hewing too closely to the original in terms of characterization or camp quality…but the basic concept is a great hook. Honestly, if you saw it as a kid, no doubt you remember it to this day! Maybe it could be Canada’s first ever stab at a true summer blockbuster! Seriously…if we don’t do it, it’s only a matter of time before Steven Spielberg or Peter Jackson does, and they probably wouldn’t even credit its Canadian origin (since I’m not sure you can really copyright the basic idea). For some reason I can picture Alan Van Sprang as Robin (maybe because of his Tudors days as the roguish Sir Francis Bryan) with, I dunno, Mayko Nguyen as Marion and Alan C. Peterson or Graham Greene as Tuck and Tyler Mane as Little John.

Or what about The Mighty Hercules? Couldn’t you just picture a live version with Steve Bacic as the title hero, with that wicked cool ring that used to get struck by lightning (or whatever) to give him super powers? And Michael Eklund could play his wacky centaur pal, Newt. Or am I just getting desperate now?

Strangely, some things don’t quite strike me as candidates for re-makes. The 1980s CBC mystery-comedy series, Seeing Things, had a lot to recommend it: funny, yet with clever mysteries, and wrapped around a “high concept” hook of a bumbling reporter with psychic flashes that helped him solve the cases. But as much as I think it’s a classic of Canadian TV, I worry it’d be too hard to recapture its spirit again. Maybe it’s just hard to picture anyone but Louis Del Grande as the star! Still, who knows. Maybe a big screen version with Ryan Reynolds. Likewise, I remember liking the old cop drama Night Heat — but other than the “cops on the graveyard shift” gimmick, I’m not sure there’s anything about it that couldn’t be done in any old big city police drama.

Of course, in Hollywood, where decisions are made by studio suits, old properties are optioned and repackaged with new casts and crews as part of the assembly line mentality of Hollywood. In Canada, where it’s much more artist driven, there’s probably less enthusiasm. Filmmakers want to make their own stories…not re-make someone else’s. But in an industry so woefully lacking in hits…or even moderate successes…maybe a certain mercenary pragmatism is not a bad thing.

Maybe picking through the junk yard of old Canadian movies and TV shows in search of that inspiration, that lost classic that can be polished and re-presented for a new audience, might have its value.

Heck, even just looking through the past simply for inspiration, archetypes, rather than literal, direct re-makes is not a bad idea — pop culture sometimes strengthened by a sense of recurring trends and motifs. Though not a re-make, were the makers of the current Victorian detective TV series, The Murdoch Mysteries, entirely ignorant of the earlier The Great Detective — both set in Victorian Ontario, about a police detective (with a coroner confidant), the stories often revolving around historical minutia and “cutting edge” technology? (Funnily, I’d also wonder if The Great Detective might have inspired the BBC Radio series, McLevy). And one can suspect the biological horror of the movie, Splice, was inspired by the early films of David Cronenberg. The TV series Being Erica has been compared by some to the U.S. TV series, Quantum Leap, but I’d argue the Canadian indie film, Fetching Cody, was just as likely an inspiration.

Mining old stories might prove successful for today…and show respect for the past.

And that’s what culture is all about.

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Another Science Fiction Story…

Yup…shameless self-promotion time:

A science fiction story of mine is posted at the webzine Daily Science Fiction — it’s essentially what you’d call “flash fiction”. That is, it’s a short-short story that can be read in less than 5 minutes. Titled “The Prisoners”, it can be read here. (hint hint)

It’s a bit expositional (a necessity of the short word count) but I like it. Given that a recurring theme in many of my blog posts (since many relate to Canadian film, TV, and cultural identity) I wonder if the story could be seen as reflecting a Canadian perspective. That wasn’t deliberate, as the story makes no explicit allusion to earth, but looking at it after the fact, I wonder if some of the themes it touches on are different than you might expect from an American writer. Maybe yes? Maybe no? Who knows?

Daily SF also posted an earlier flash fiction story of mine, called “Hypotheticals”…that one can still be read here.

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The Artistic Frontier: Hollywood…or Canada?

There are a few ideas about Canadian film & TV — where it is, where it’s headed, and so on — I’ve been meaning to opine on…partly just because, well, when I decided to take on the idea of a blog, I promised myself I’d try and post something every few days (as opposed to every few weeks/months as was true with my previous essays posted here). Anyway, some ideas wrap around and overlap with each other, but to avoid a rambling posting, I’m going to try and tackle them in various more focused essays. So today, I just wanted to play a bit of Devil’s Advocate and consider a certain unconditionally accepted trusim of Canadian film & TV — and global entertainment in general — and its relationship to Hollywood.

There is sometimes an undercurrent, when people criticize Canadian film and TV, of implying that those who stay home in Canada just couldn’t hack it in Hollywood…they are either talentless, or cowards.

But you know, I’ve often thought the opposite view could be taken.

Once upon a time, yes, Hollywood was the creative frontier, if you will. Artists, dreamers and mogels trekked out into the dessert (some, in fact, Canadian-born like Mack Sennett, Mary Pickford, and Louis B. Mayer) and, almost as though a biblical fable, literally built an industry out of the sand, using nothing but talent, hard work, and moxy (and, um, yeah, in some cases borderline criminal monopolies and underhanded practices that eventually had to be curtailed by U.S. government intervention). But out of that was built a well-oiled machine that has come to dominate global culture.

But that’s kind of the point — Hollywood, and American industry in general, has become a well-oiled machine. It’s like a perpetual motion device that chugs along almost on its own volition, its true inventors long since turned to dust. It’s an industry that’s greater than any one product, studios that are more than the sum of their executives and stars — all of whom come and go faster than witches in Oz.

One could make the argument that Canadian actors and film makers who head to Hollywood are, in fact, the ones taking the easy route. There may be hundreds, thousands of people competing to get in the doors, but once you get in those doors, the water is running, the pantry is stocked, the beds are turned down, all ready for you. The journey may be hard and fraught with peril…but at the end is a shining metropolis.

To use my initial analogy about Hollywood having once been a creative frontier, one could argue that it is the Canadian film & TV biz that still remains a dilapidated frontier town — the successes are few and far between. The well is frequently contaminated, food scarce, and the bedding has lice and fleas — and everytime you ask for help or improvements, you are accused of demanding hand outs. Even when a movie or TV show is successful, the apparatus to build upon that is creaky, if non-existent. Far from taking the easy route, or not being brave enough to test themselves against the cream of Hollywood, one could equally argue those who stay in Canada are the gutsy ones, the ones still trying to build an industry, still trying to make fertile farmland out of an at times inhospitable wilderness.

It’s the talent that heads south that, in a sense, has thrown in the towel, has given up trying to win a seeming Quixotic fight. They head south where the perpetual motion machine was built decades ago by dead men, and the current generation are not much more than Morlocks keeping it oiled.

I mean, how many times have we read interviews with Canadian actors, writers, directors who have announced they are fed up with their lack of recognition, their lack of success, in Canada (or they’ve had success…but are having trouble following up on it) — and so are heading south where, they assure any and all who’ll listen, they’ll be treated right. Granted, often such declarations are made by people who are never heard from again…or slink back to Canada a few years later. But still — isn’t the subtext that they figure it’ll be a little easier in Hollywood?

Nor do I blame them, really.

So where does that take us? Even if we accept that the successes of modern Hollywood are thanks to pioneers long dead who created an industry and an infrastructure that the modern generation benefits from, and equally, modern Canadian film and TV suffers because its founders made the wrong choices, backed the wrong horses, decades ago — does that point to a solution?

Well…yes, and no.

It’s worth considering, to realize that for all those who gloat over the failures of Canadian film and TV, the modern Canadian film makers aren’t operating on a level playing field with their American cousins. It should lead to a certain rueful sympathy for the toilers in the field if nothing else.

But it maybe suggests that Hollywood’s success, ironic for a country that prides itself on its rebel past and rugged individualism, is partly a result of a certain collectivism — an industry mentality, where even the artists are merely cogs in a vast mechanism. Heck, the very fact that the American movie industry is consolidated in one area is telling.

The Canadian entertainment undustry, in contrast, is still very much about the individual — the artist, the autre — more than the industry. And where even physically it isn’t particularly localized, with a number of centres vying for the title of “Hollywood North” — Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal, Halifax, even Calgary and Winnipeg all make varying claims to being production centres. Unlike America, in Canada you can often recognize where a movie or TV show is shot based on the supporting actors in it, because there are actors who are based in particular regions and don’t need to stray outside of that area to keep themselves employed.

Whereas in Hollywood a distinction is made between a “mainstream studio” movie and an “independent” film…in Canada, all movies are essentially indie films.

And that’s partly good — in a country as physically vast and culturally diverse as Canada, it’s probably in some respects healthier than the U.S. model. But the negative side to that is does that help keep the industry from coalescing into, well, an industry? Rather than building something up, we’re constantly carving it off into little fiefdoms. There are too many wanna-be captains and not enough navigators. And whereas Hollywood is steeped in tradition and paying homage to its past, one gets the impression that a lot of Canadian film makers take pride in dismissing and denigrating the past — they want to be the “special one”, they want to be the guy or gal who stands above the crowd, and they can’t be that if they acknowledge people did good work who came before them.

Now again, it’s not black & white. After all, given the problematic history of Canadian film & TV, you wouldn’t necessarily want to slavishly revere productions that weren’t very good to begin with. You wouldn’t want the modern generation of TV makers declaring their goal was to live up to the glory of, say, The Littlest Hobo, would you? And would a visionary producer who fancies himself a Hollywood-style mogel be a kind of Moses, leading his filmmaking followers to the Promised Land…or would he a delusional egomaniac, more akin to the Pied Piper…or a chief lemming shouting “Follow me — I know a short cut over this cliff!”? And the problem with putting too much faith in consolidation, in a few companies or visionary producers to build that machine…is that means it’s even easier to knock down, like a house of cards. Maybe having a bunch of production centres, and a bunch of little companies, makes the industry more resilient, more able to whether ups and downs.

A few years back, Canada seemed to be developing its own studio giants like Hollywood, with production companies like Alliance and Atlantis having their fingers in half the film and TV productions in Canada. Then they merged into an even bigger, super production house, and they even bought up a few rising companies. They were shaping up to be Optimus Prime ready to do battle with the Decepticons of Hollywood (or, y’know, Godzilla ready to go toe to toe with Mecha-Godzilla). And then…and then…and then this super company that was almost the galactic core of Canadian film and TV…decided to pretty much shut down its production arm and concentrate on the low cost/high profit field of film distribution. Which is why you’ll still see the Alliance-Atlantis logo today…but generally preceding films (often American films) rather than in the actual production credits. A lot of industry folk were left rather stunned and shattered by that move, like frontier settlers who wake up one morning to find that the fast taking entrepreneur who was promising to put the town on the map and bring the railroad through has skipped town in the night.

And, honestly, that’s kind of the history of Canadian film and TV — dreamers who don’t play well with each other, businessmen who are more interested in short term profits than in industry building. But like plucky pioneers of old, the toilers in Canadian film & TV keep struggling away, through dust bowl and blizzard, still hoping they can build a city where sod huts now stand. But maybe there needs to be more of a sense that they are working toward a goal, toward building an industry — a machine — greater than themselves.

And I do sometimes wonder if the problem in Canadian film and TV is that while Hollywood renovates its existing house, adding new support beams where needed and attaching new wings over the decades, Canadians are too quick to just knock their house down, and try to build from scratch…and then a new generation comes along, and they just bring in more bulldozers to knock it down, determined to start again. And the result is a frontier town that has yet to become a city of dreams.

But that’s just me being Devil’s Advocate.

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The Art and Craft…of the Title Sequence

Part of my blathering, both here and in my accompanying websites (such as The Great Canadian Guide to the Movies & TV), is to consider and opine on the storytelling process.

As a kind of minor example example of that — a microcosm, if you will — I was thinking about the credit/title sequences in TV series. Now such sequences are becoming rarer, as it’s thought that it’s better to keep the title sequence to a minimum, so there’s more time for the actual episode. I can appreciate that — but I can also feel that an art is being lost, that sometimes a signature of an old TV series was its title sequence, and theme songs were often so good, so popular, they actually went on to become radio hits that still get played today (Welcome Back, Kotter or The Greatest American Hero, or instrumental pieces like The Rockford Files). The theme tune to the original Hawaii 5-0 was considered so good — so much a part of the series’ identity — that when they “re-imagined” the series recently…one thing they carried over from the original was that tune!

A good title sequence can almost be worth watching on its own, regardless of the episode it precedes — a nice mix of a well chosen theme song, with a carefully selected montage of images that highlight the core aspects of the show (if it’s an action-comedy, it’s not enough just to show action images…you’ve got to convey the comedy too) all edited with a music video precision to match the beats of the melody. I seem to recall the light-hearted U.S. private eye series, Simon & Simon, as being a good example of capturing these elements — from the country-blues theme music with its slide guitar, starting lazy, then getting more boisterous (suggesting “action”), yet maintaining a “lighthearted” feel, and quickly edited images simultaneously suggestive of the buddy-humour and the crime-action, even opening with a sign saying Welcome to San Diego (just so we know the setting) and all timed with the beats of the music.

And, of course, let’s not forget the old catchy voice overs: “Space, the final frontier”, or “Want to know a secret?” as Stephanie Zimbalist would tease at the beginning of Remington Steele‘s first season. Again, it’s all about setting up the series in just a few seconds of film — a voice over sometimes needed if the premise isn’t altogether straight forward (I think Remington Steele dropped the voiceover after a while, presumably once they figured the audience knew the premise).

I’d argue one of the all-time best series title sequences was in the 1970s U.S. series Kolchak. A kind of X-Files progenitor, Kolchak starred Darren McGavin as a reporter who investigated the supernatural. And it boasted a brilliant title sequence. With a jaunty, minimalist melody playing over the images (can’t remember it if was whistling, or a piano) we see Kolchak entering the brightly lit but deserted newspaper bullpen office first thing in the morning. He blithely tosses his coat on a rack, settles at his typewriter, all so far seeming as innocuous as an episode of Lou Grant or even Mary Tyler Moore. Then he starts typing — words about murders and disappearances. The melody takes on a darker, more sinister theme. The lighting starts shifting, the shadows growing longer. It’s still just Kolchak alone at his desk in his office, but a definite sense of unease is building — finally Kolchak turns toward the camera, a horrified look in his close up eyes. End of sequence. As I say — brilliant stuff. No monster. No mayhem. No action. Yet with just a change in tune, a shift in the light, a quickening of edits, we go from a bright cheery scene to a creepy disturbing scene all within 30 seconds or so — and it conveys the two keystones of the series: he’s a reporter; and it’s a horror series. Honestly, aspiring filmmakers could study that sequence.

The subtle art involved in title sequences can be seen when a series goes from a good title sequence…to a less effective one (or vice versa). Sometimes it’s because there was clear, dramatic change (new music is used) or otherwise a re-thinking of the sequence…and not necessarily to good effect. What’s more intriguing is when the changes are so subtle as almost to be not worth mentioning, but it still affects things.

An interesting example is the fondly remembered U.S. series Veronica Mars (one of those series which most people who saw it, liked it — but not enough people saw it). A sharp, smart series about a plucky teenage amateur detective clawing her way back from a fall from social grace, the series employs an edited version of the Dandy Warhol’s song “We Used to be Friends” that nicely captures the series’ themes — from the melancholy opening lament of “A long time ago, we used to be friends” evoking the heroine’s isolation then blasting into the raucously defiant “Come on now, sugar — Bring it on!”, embodying her current “Mad as Hell” philosophy. And it’s laid over a slickly edited montage of images that, though not intrinsically exciting, nonetheless convey a sense of energy and drama and character — star Kirsten Bell’s head laid sadly across her arms at her desk; Jason Dohring stabbing a finger accusingly toward the camera; a low-angle shot of Percy Daggs III hoisting himself onto a fence; Francis Capra sauntering away from his gang. All done over a foolscap motif with doodled images, both suggestive of the characters, and evoking the milieu of a high school. It’s a great title sequence. The song and the motif is maintained for the second season, but using different shots — and it’s not as effective. Oh, it’s not bad — but it’s what I meant about how subtle these things can be. The shots of the actors are just, well, shots of the actors, lacking the almost subliminal drama that the first season images conveyed. The third season deliberately took a sharp turn in a new direction — using the same song, but re-orchestrating it, and laid over completely re-conceived imagery. It grew on me a bit as I got used to it — but it’s nowhere near as strong, as compelling as the first season. And perhaps that was a reflection of the series itself — by that point the series itself had moved away from the initial dramatic themes that had so enlivened the first season, Veronica was no longer the underdog outcast, the series less interested in the original themes of rich-poor schisms. Maybe the first season title sequence was better because it had more it was trying to convey — like the first season itself.

Title sequences are becoming less mandatory in TV — some use them, some don’t. And, to be fair, the new, shorter titles can also be reflective of art, this time trying to convey it all in just a single image (or title font) and a single bar of melody! Think of a 30 to 60 second title sequence as a poem, and the modern single-shot titles more like haiku. Castle with its four or five deliberately melodramatic notes, and the nib pen stabbing knife-like into the ground (encapsulating the notion of a writer, menace, and tongue-in-cheek all in a second or two) or Revenge with its title superimposed over a (CGI) storm tossed coast.

But as I say, the longer title sequences are still around. One of the best is for The Walking Dead which creates a creepy, eerie opening sequence while never actually showing any of the title monsters — more overt than Kolchak all those years ago, but a similar intent.

Of course, a title sequence doesn’t always reflect the quality of the series it represents. Good series have been fronted by indifferent title sequences, and great title sequences have introduced middling series. But as I say, it is an art form in itself — one many of us probably don’t give too much thought too (we might say that was a cool opening and that wasn’t so good — but we might not ask “why?” we feel that way). But it requires a few different disciplines to come together — a selection of music, slick editing, even a sense of “narrative” (it’s often overlooked, but good title sequences aren’t just a random collection of head shots and action scenes, but are arranged to tell a kind of “story”, or at least a progression) that all has to be utilized to bring out the themes and flavours of the series. In other words, a good title sequence doesn’t just front a TV series…it has to understand what that series is about, and convey it to the audience! In that sense, a title sequence is a bit like a TV commercial or trailer for a movie or TV show — the commercial too in a few seconds has to interest the audience, entertain on its own, while conveying what the movie or TV series is about, and whether it’s funny, or dramatic, or scary, or whatever.

Looking at the history of Canadian film and TV I’ve often grumbled that commercials advertising some productions can be a bit, well, uninspired (often, admittedly, because the programs they’re hyping are themselves uninspiring — but even good movies have been ill-served by lacklustre ads).

In Canadian TV, there have been some good — and not so good — title sequences. And many inbetween. King of Kensington’s catchy, European-folk flavoured title song both captured a sense of whimsy (good for a sitcom) and, ironically, evoked more of the character’s Jewish ethnicity than most of the series scripts actually did! The 1970s Littlest Hobo had a great theme song…but the series itself was hardly a highpoint of TV drama. Seeing Things’ opening song left me a bit mixed — it was definitely, um, off-beat and quirky — not exactly top 40 stuff. Yet, conversely, that’s kind of why it grew on you, and it boasted clever lyrics that, if you listened to them, nicely explained the series’ premise — both about the hero’s psychic powers…and his marital problems. Adderly was an enjoyable action-comedy…but its title sequence was fairly bland. Generic theme music laid over rather generic images of action and exploding cars…not necessarily evoking the series’ equally important humour aspect. Although, to be fair, the assembled images did convey a bit of the necessary back story (the hero a secret agent, wounded in the line of duty, and demoted).

Arguably one of the first Canadian TV series to boast a truly slick title sequence was Due South (appropriate given it was a big budget series aimed at conquering the U.S. airwaves). And, like with the better America series, you can dissect the elements, and how they conveyed the nature of the series itself, from the opening shot of the Mounty hero in the wintery north, cut to a plane, then he’s shown striding into Chicago, so we immediately get the sense of the “country mouse in the big city” premise, while the ensuing shots alternately convey the sense of humour & whimsy, and action & suspense, well timed with the music. I particularly like a shot — and they must’ve liked it, because they maintained a variation on it during a few changes in the edits — of a figure falling forward, rolling, then coming to his feet (editing a couple of unrelated scenes — with different characters — together!) creating a sense of action and energy, all synced nicely with the music. And then there was the music itself, a bit of jaunty urban country-rock…again, capturing the sense of the rural hero in the big city.

Durham County boasts one of the most interesting, moody title sequences in Canadian TV — with its montage of eerie, unsettling imagery (yet like with Kolchak — many not overtly so, making it all the more disturbing) and a haunting melody. Although in its case — I might quibble about its juxtaposition with the series itself. The title sequence, frankly, seems like it should be introducing a horror or supernatural series. Which is kind of the makers point, as their police drama series was meant to have a disturbing, almost horror movie undercurrent. But it was, at the end of the day, just a police drama — and the title sequence maybe promises more than is delivered.

Currently on the TV schedule are some nice examples of title sequences. Arctic Air, with its opening shot of a caribou, then planes, and continuing to alternate shots of the majestic tundra with technology and city lights which nicely conveys the sense of a world straddling the fence between urban city and the vast wilderness. Slickly edited against a dramatic melody, mixing inuit throat singing with a pop melody, with even the shots of the actors superimposed over a white background as though the skyline (as opposed to simply shots of them in their offices) to further convey the sense of these knights of the air.

Blackstone is a gritty drama about life on an impoverished Indian reserve. For its title sequence there’s a rendering of the playground song about One Little, Two Little, Three Little Indians. It creates a subtle sense of unease, because it’s a song that, though not intrinsically offensive, nonetheless feels uncomfortable (I mean, one can’t put your finger on why it’s rude — it’s not like it’s using slurs or saying anything derogatory…but you can find yourself going, um, why are we counting Indians…and “little” ones to boot?) And they get it performed by kids voices, with a kind of echo-y tone as though an old, or subversive recording, furthering a sense of unease (and kids singing a song introducing a decidedly adult show further creates a sense of discordance). And this is laid over a slick montage, not of the actors, or the setting, but what look like archival photos of Native people, as seen through black borders as though suggesting — what? Charring? It’s stylish and compelling. And it too could be seen as conveying a sense of the series, even as it tells you nothing about the characters or the plot. Blackstone isn’t really about “white” bigotry — it’s more about problems on the reserve, perpetrated by Natives themselves, with white people peripheral…even sometimes victims. Yet you could argue the point is it’s not about “direct” racism, but “indirect” racism, systemic racism, a history of racism that has led to a culture of poverty and despair, so the uncomfortableness of the Little Indians song, and the montage of historical photos perhaps cleverly exposes the undercurrent of the series — it’s not telling us about the series, it’s telling us about the history that led to the events in the series.

Less Than Kind has had some great title sequences (even though it’s altered them for different seasons). Starting with the selection of a theme tune which manages to be quirky and melancholy…and even stating the series’ location. It kind of put me in mind of those ’70s sitcoms where they’d cleverly juxtapose a goofy comedy with a title sequence that hinted at a little more gravitas. Adding to the interesting aspect of the sequence is the use of street sign motifs…which only really strikes you once you’ve watched a few episodes and realize the characters run a driving school. So in that sense — it’s a title sequence that actually takes on meaning the more you watch.

Canadian TV shows also eschew the title sequence — indeed, a couple of recent series have gone even farther than a lot of American series (at least that I recall seeing). Instead of cutting to single frame shot of the title, series like Bomb Girls actually super-impose the title over the scene itself. It further creates a sense of “we’re not wasting time with a title sequence” (even though, y’know, they are, since it’s not like it’s being super-imposed over important action or dialogue) but also maybe evokes an almost cinematic resonance — like you’re not watching a TV series, but a movie that just happens to be airing in hour long instalments with commercial breaks. While a series like Combat Hospital made good use of font, with a title logo that instantly evoked the sense of a drama about combat medicine.

Just thinking about some current and or recent Canadian TV series. Call Me Fitz has a great, quirky title sequence — funnily, it doesn’t maybe bespeak “ribald comedy”, as the series is, being almost dark and unsettling, but in that case, it works precisely by creating an almost sombre contrast with the show itself, and it does offer psychological insight into the relationship between the two leads so that you almost appreciate it more after seeing an episode or two. Flashpoint has a good title sequence, a moody tune, well edited; there’s no “progression” particularly, although there maybe is some attention paid to individual characters — Hugh Dillion with sniper rifle, Enrico Colantoni shown standing back from the action, suggestive of their different functions in the unit. The Lost Girl is a solid title sequence, with a voiceover to explain the premise, a decent tune and images — nothing exceptional but solid. Likewise, King (at least in its first season — the second is still a few hours away from premiering as I write this), is decent enough, particularly given its brevity, establishing a tone, a milieu (cop drama) and a heroine all within seconds. I actually really like the opening to Haven (more than the series itself!). The title sequence to Endgame (cancelled, but with rumours still abounding that it isn’t yet fully checkmated) did establish the background for the series in a montage of images (the hero’s trauma and celebrity) but, I’ll admit, I’m not sure it effectively portrayed the series itself (which was, after all, a light-hearted mystery series about an eccentric detective) with an unmemorable melody — not a bad title sequence, but not quite a winner.

Now, as I say — there is a worth to looking at title sequences.

Aside from simply acknowledging the artistry that goes into the better ones. It can reflect part of the narrative process — and an understanding of what your series is about.

In the sitcom Corner Gas, the title sequence segues from one regular character to another, in scenes that were shot for the title (as opposed to culled from the episodes) and it’s clever how they manage to convey the essence of the various personalities with just a single shot…basically introducing the viewer to the characters. Oscar raging on about something, Chief Davis sleeping in his car, startled by efficient Deputy Karen. They didn’t just get the actors to grin at the camera (well, they did) but they strove to present their personalities in a few seconds of film. Clever.

I was thinking about this watching a few re-runs of ReGenesis, the techno-drama about health officials investigating rogue science and virulent outbreaks. Whereas a lot of series have moved away from title sequences altogether, ReGenesis (maybe because it was made for commercial free cable) actually had an unusually long title sequence. That can be problematic…because even if it’s a good sequence, it can get old after the third or fourth episode. Anyway, for the first couple of seasons, the title sequence eschewed shots of the actors, for utilitarian shots of medical research (slides, needles, etc) while presenting a “mini-drama” chronicling the outbreak of an epidemic, following a sick guy, and the hands he touches, before he collapses in the street. So, it certainly conveys part of the point of the series…but maybe is too focused. As not all the plots in ReGenesis revolved around out-breaks and communicable diseases. It doesn’t really give you much sense of the characters (since none are featured) or anything — and, as I say, it’s a bit protracted. Laid over it is a theme tune that, likewise, gets marks for being off-beat — not top 40 stuff — but as such, isn’t really that catchy or memorable.

Then for the third season of ReGenesis, they maintain the use of medical minutia, but drop the mini-drama idea for more traditional shots of the stars (with the same theme music). And it was actually watching that which kind of inspired me to write this post — rather, it, and then contrasting it with my thoughts about Corner Gas. So, to be fair, you certainly get the essence of the series in that title sequence — that it’s a drama about medical research, though now with less sense of danger or menace that the first seasons’ title sequence conveyed (other than by using a dour blue tint over the images). But it was in the shots of the actors that it became interesting…or, rather, uninteresting. As they were basically just generic shots of the actors, looking pensive, peering at microscopes, or charts (granted, a series about lab work doesn’t necessarily offer a variety of imagery to employ). It conveyed they were medical researchers — it didn’t convey anything about them as individuals. They might as well have just had the actors flash big toothy grins at the camera while an old Quinn-Martin announcer reads their names for all the shots of them were keyed to their individual characters. The shots also seemed a little too obviously posed for the montage, as opposed to culled from actual scenes in the series. As well, for such a long title sequence…it didn’t really have a narrative drive to it, the way its early season credits did, or the way I said other series do — the melody doesn’t change much and you could have shuffled the order of the images without really affecting the “feel” of the sequence.

The point is — there was nothing terrible about ReGenesis‘ third season title sequence. It was a perfectly serviceable, perfectly okay title sequence (if, y’know, long). But it’s what I mean when I say there are good such sequences…and not so good ones. It felt as though someone was told, hey, can you edit together a few shots for the opener? And so someone did — but without really putting the thought into it that, say, the Due South people did, or some of the other series I’ve listed. And even with the first two seasons, with their much more elaborate, involved (and expensive) sequence following an unknown Patient Zero, it maybe felt like they were too focused on the “gimmick” of the mini-drama…and less on really bringing out the elements of the series itself. Likewise, the music felt a bit too self-consciously like they were trying for “mood”…and not fully pulling it off.

But as I say — it wasn’t bad. No one watching the ReGenesis openings would, I think, say there was anything wrong with them. ‘Cause there wasn’t. But like with so much else in entertainment — and in the Canadian entertainment biz inparticular — there can be a distinction between doing a perfectly professional job…and doing a good job, an inspired job. I job that makes you say, man, I’d like to shake the hand of the person who did that.

Given how Canadian film and TV is so often struggling to get a toe hold in the market place, that’s my point. It’s not enough to do a good job, a professional job. Everyone involved, yes, even the music composers and the people who edit together title sequences, have to bring their A-game, to realize that there is a method and a mechanism underneath the art.

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Even Artists Must Respect the Craftmanship

In an earlier post, I used an up-coming TV series (sight unseen) to comment on some potential pitfalls in storytelling — to speculate on “do”s and “don’t”s. Which can be a kind of interesting topic, with two schools of thought. Those who say “art” is all about inspiration, about visceral spontaneity and that anything that seeks to channel or dictate that creativity is anathema to the process. And those who say that creativity has to be built upon an understanding of the underlining craft. You wouldn’t hire someone to build you a house who brags that they know nothing about architecture or engineering — so would you want a writer or filmmaker who brags that he is ignorant of the fundamentals of storytelling and character development?

It isn’t that they are mutually exclusive. The best, most creative and pioneering people in the arts often started out studying the core principles. But as they will tell you, that’s the point. They mastered the rules, and that’s what gives them the right — and the wisdom — to break the rules.

I’ve often thought about this when watching a movie or TV show, or reading a book. Thinking how maybe with a little more understanding of the “craft” — and yes, the cliches — of storytelling, the storyteller might have made the story work better. Things like having a lead character gives you a protagonist. But a lead character with a love interest gives your story heart. And a lead character facing an obstacle to his love interest gives you drama. Pretty basic stuff, but things that often get overlooked in the race to deadlines, or the struggle to just make your plot make sense.

Years and years ago I saw a TV documentary/profile of British comic actor John Cleese where he talked a lot about the process and logic of comedy — not simply whether something was funny but why it was funny. That’s something a lot of artists tend to avoid, particularly comedians, as if somehow acknowledging there is a mechanism behind it all will suddenly invalidate the whole thing. But I’ve always remembered that show about Cleese — indeed, I recall it as being one of the most fascinating examinations of the creative process I’ve ever come across.

In a similar way, I never used to think much about musical scores in movies — I mean, I knew there was dramatic music, and romantic music, and scary music. But I never thought much beyond that. Then I read a book interviewing various people involved with Star Trek over the years — actors, directors, writers, as well as composers. I’m guessing I left the interview with the composer till the end because, really, why would that interest me? But…it actually became quite fascinating and eye opening, as the composer talked about the subtler underpinnings beneath simply whether the music was “scary” or “jaunty” — he talked about how different characters would have themes that could be threaded through the background, sometimes deliberately evoking a character even when he wasn’t in the scene. He talked about overall motifs that would suggest a flavour to the story even beyond the immediate needs of the scene.

As with the Cleese interview, it made me realize there was a lot more thought — a lot more mechanics — involved than simply an artist saying “this feels right to me.”

And thinking about these things can come to me when I watch a lot of movies and TV and I can’t help thinking the people involved aren’t really putting that same thought and effort into their production — either because they just literally don’t have the time, or because they just haven’t stopped to really think about it, and they don’t understand the craft involved. Sometimes you can see movies where you suspect the people are sort of thinking about it…but kind of stopped half way. Like a movie which clearly has settled on a musical theme for a significant character…but uses it in a kind of lazy, uninspired way.

Part of what this all relates to is the notion of realizing there is a difference between doing something in a story because, well, you know that’s what you’re supposed to do…and actually understanding why you’re doing it.

I’m trying to write a few shorter posts — so we’ll leave it there for the moment. This is basically just establishing one of the themes of this website, which is to try to examine and look beneath the storytelling process (in my humble, ignorant way, of course) including my next post…

Posted in Canadian film and TV | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Reviewing radio drama — Trust Inc

Workers in Canadian film & TV often complain about how hard it is to get press coverage and reviews, squeezed in between the American releases…and radio drama has even more obstacles. So today I’m looking at a current CBC Radio drama…and also using it to reflect and opine on some broader ideas around storytelling in the radio medium.

Trust Inc is a new CBC Radio drama set within the world of a public relations firm, the spin doctors who try and make sure their client’s message gets out there…and the skeletons in their closets don’t. It’s been promoted as a “satire”, but I’m not sure it is. I’ve certainly seen the word “satire” used in that way before, but I think most of us generally conflate satire with comedy — “wit” and “sarcasm” are some of the words my dictionary employs. The blurbs for Trust Inc try to cover themselves by labelling it a “satirical-drama”, but it’s basically just a drama — those expecting a wacky and skewering satire will be disappointed.

I’m a regular listener to radio dramas, which is why I kind of find Trust Inc a bit frustrating…and disappointing. And I’ll admit, I haven’t been a huge fan of the CBC’s last few radio dramas, Backbencher (about a novice MP learning her way around parliament hill) and the battlefield drama, Afghanada, which amassed over a hundred episodes — a number almost unheard of in the post-TV era of radio drama because modern radio series tend to have short seasons (often just 4 to 8 episodes) so that even long running radio series (in, for example, the U.K.) still might only amass 20 or 30 episodes. The claim is Afghanada was a big success — how one defines “big” success in modern radio drama being, of course, open to interpretation. One reference suggested its audience was in the hundreds of thousands…putting it on a level with some Canadian TV series…if true (I don’t mean to be cynical, but I am aware of how even in TV ratings you can get some wildly conflicted reports on audience numbers).

Unfortunately, I can’t help wondering if the CBC’s trend toward more episodes is as much a negative as a positive — that is, the CBC commissions more episodes per season for its radio dramas than, say, the BBC…precisely so they can produce fewer series. Instead of commissioning a bunch of different series, reflecting different tones and styles (comedy, drama, suspense) and employing different actors and crews, they just commission one or two but with a longer episode run. Now, obviously, if you’re enjoying the series, the larger episode order is great!

But there can be a certain stodgy earnestness to some of these recent CBC radio dramas — a feeling they aren’t quite letting their hair down and being entertainment, first and foremost, and allowing any earnestness to arise naturally out of the drama.

Maybe I’m too self-conscious of it from having once looked at submissions guidelines for CBC Radio where it was advised that when pitching a drama it should be explained why a series was important. Which puts me in mind of coming upon a blog (not too long ago) by an excited writer explaining how her series idea had been optioned by CBC Radio. Her proposal was, apparently, for a kind of Dark Shadows mystery-soap about robbery and murder at a hospital with werewolves and the like thrown into the mix. Wow! — I thought, excitedly reading that description — I can hardly believe CBC Radio would go for that! Then reading further down her blog, she explained that the notes that came back on her proposal asked for a few changes. Namely: drop the werewolves, drop the supernatural, drop the mystery-suspense, and, oh yeah, drop the soap opera aspect. Keep the hospital. Apparently what the CBC brass wanted was simply an earnest drama illustrating the dilemmas faced by the modern medical profession, essentially White Coat, Black Arts only with actors, I guess. Sigh. (And at the writing of this, I’m not sure the CBC is going ahead even with that watered down version of the series).

You can see why I’m a bit skeptical about the sticky fingers of earnestness interfering with the storytelling process. I mean, don’t get me wrong — I’m all for social relevancy (how many times have I cited Wojeck as a landmark in Canadian TV over the years?). But a balance must be struck.

So first up — Trust Inc certainly isn’t a bad series, in terms of the acting or the production. Anymore than were Backbencher or Afghanada. But as a series — as entertainment — it so far is failing to quite excite me.

And perhaps following the style of Afghanada, it avoids the notion of a main character. For the first few episodes, it seemed as though Georgina Reilly (Pontypool, Murdoch Mysteries) as young up-and-comer Serena was supposed to be the main character, she was the focus of the plot and was the narrator — but the focus has moved around like a roving spotlight, with different episodes narrated by different characters, with Serena sometimes barely appearing. Indeed, it doesn’t even stick to its PR firm premise, with one episode where a journalist — a recurring character — takes centre stage and narrates.

It smacks a little of a series that is trying too hard to please too many people, where they can’t even decide who the series is about. Or where they’re trying to satisfy too many editorial notes from the brass. Y’know, where they pitch the idea of a PR firm, and then an executive nods sagely, puffs on his cigar, and then says with deliberate nonchalance, “I like it…but, you know, journalism is also a great setting for drama” to which the creator immediately replies: “Did I say it’s just about a PR firm? Heck — no! It’s, uh, also about, um, this journalist…”

The problem I have with Trust Inc is that I’m finding it a bit — well, dull. This kind of relates to my point about the characters — by switching POV regularly, they aren’t really building up any strong, dynamic personalities to hold our interest. Serena herself is just kind of — what? She’s not especially smart…but she’s not especially dumb. She’s not especially principled…but she’s not especially unprincipled. She’s not especially seasoned…but she’s not especially green. She’s not witty, but she’s not dour. She’s not passive, but she’s not bitter. She just…is. She’s not even endearingly bi-polar…(okay, yeah, I loved Claire Dane’s in Homeland).

Perhaps another problem with the switching narration idea, and basically focusing on a specific character every week, is not only that it means it’s hard to build an audience connection/affection for anyone in particular, but it also hurts the notion of relationships between the characters (it doesn’t come across as an ensemble, so much as an anthology where we have a different main character every week). There’s little sense of camaraderie between the characters — or that they even like each other (though I think there’s supposed to be romantic tension between Serena and the reporter — but it feels more academic than emotional). Granted, a lack of deep friendships is probably authentic to many real work places, but in a fictional drama? The camaraderie and interaction of the characters often becomes the bedrock upon which a series is built, we enjoy the interplay, and it’s part of how we come to care about the characters, because they care about, and are cared for by, others.

As with film or TV, an interesting character, a charismatic performance, can make the difference. It might seem a bit odd to talk about “charisma” in a non-visual medium — but it’s true. I’ve listened to plenty of radio dramas where the characters — and the actors who play them — create as powerful an impression as any film or TV performance. David Threlfall’s performance as amateur detective Paoblo Baldi in the BBC Radio series, Baldi, draws me back more than the perfectly okay, but generic, mystery plots. And when the actress who played his police detective foil was replaced…you noticed it. I really liked Derek Jacobi in a series of old TV movies about the 11th Century detective, Brother Cadfael…but after hearing Philip Madoc play the part on radio, I’m torn as to which is my favourite. There are actors I’ve grown to like, and I genuinely perk up when I hear they are attached to an audio play…yet couldn’t for the life of me put a face to their voice.

Actually, I just listened to the most recent episode of Trust Inc (yup, you can’t say I’m not giving it a chance) in which the focus shifted to Julie Khaner (Street Legal) who, as the firm’s boss, hadn’t previously been given much to do. But thrust into centre stage, and narrating, and paired up with A-list guest stars Colm Feore and Stephen McHattie…it started to crackle a bit. I don’t know if it’s just that Khaner, Feore and McHattie are a little older than the others, or maybe with more of a theatre/radio background, but they seemed far more in control of the material — and aware of the subtle possibilities of their voices — than the others. Or maybe I was just predisposed to like ‘em from other things I’ve see them in. But that episode actually held me more than some of the others.

Actually the previous episode, veering a little toward being a “suspense” story, was also a little stronger. So maybe just overall the creators are getting a better grip on things.

But it’s still just a “little” stronger. Even with the Khaner-focused episode it held me only in fits and starts.

The plots of Trust Inc just kind of wallow about in the middle. As mentioned, it’s not really a “satire”, per se. It’s not a biting, funny comedy about the wacky world of a PR firm. It’s a drama…but not an especially gripping one. It occasionally veers towards being an actual suspense series…then swerves aside again. And the narrative structure is a bit odd — stories that ramble about, stretched over two or three episodes, but not really building to any particularly satisfying denouement. It kind of wants to use the premise to tackle some real world issues (in one story arc, the team is hired by the Occupy Movement) without ever really grabbing you by the collar and shaking you out of your complacency. And being a PR firm…principles aren’t really their bag anyway. In the first arc (stretched over three episodes) Peter Outerbridge (ReGenesis, Bomb Girls) guest stars as a rising politician who gets embroiled in a sex scandal…but it’s not like we’re exactly rooting for the guy, or thinking that Serena and the rest are somehow upholding a higher principle by running interference for him.

I mean, honestly, I’m hard pressed to imagine Trust Inc as a TV series. I can’t help thinking if it was filmed for TV, a lot of critics would dismiss it as dull and even boring. As slice-of-life more than gipping drama.

Which, to be fair, its creators and their fans might say is the whole point — radio can try low-key things that you can’t get away with on TV with their demands for bigger, broader audiences (reminding me of some old CBC Radio mystery series which could often tilt toward “low-key”). Trust Inc is for people who find most TV too melodramatic. Although, if that were truly the intent, I’m not sure why they would throw in the bomb scare plot! But the thing is, there’s a valid point to that — of saying that one medium shouldn’t just slavishly imitate another. But then one just has to look across the pond to Great Britain, with its far more prolific radio drama industry, where they regularly produce comedies and thrillers and sci-fi every bit as dynamic and populist as any TV series — clearly they don’t feel radio has a need to be somehow less pulpy than TV.

Frankly, I’ve long felt that radio could be a medium to dramatize stories too expensive for TV — particularly in Canada, where budget limitations curb what can be produced. And to be fair, that sometimes has been the case: Steve The First, Canadia 2056, Afghanada, A Fine Balance were all Canadian radio productions tackling material that would’ve been hard to mount for TV without massive budgets.

In a way, what kind of nags at me listening to Trust Inc (and Backbencher and even Afghanada) is as I mentioned earlier, that sense of “earnestness” — a certain self-conscious self-importance, touching on “issues” (the Occupy movement, political scandals) but more because they feel they should, like activist dilettantes…rather than with a burning, driving, passion. Dialogue — and scenes — that can seem almost pedagogical, there to illustrate some point (and not with much subtlety) but doing so at the expense of just letting the characters be characters and the plot be a story.

And maybe that’s the point I keep returning to: a feeling that Trust Inc isn’t sure what it wants to be. It rotates its main characters, it looks in on current issues, then looks away again. It’s a drama that sells itself as a satire. I’m not sure what the creators would say is supposed to be dragging me, the listener, back week after week. The characters — who are a bit non-descript? The milieu they work in — which doesn’t offer the intensity or “higher principle” of a crime or medical drama? Or simply the plots — which can just kind of meander amiably about?

Actually, there’s another thing I wanted to touch on. And that is the heavy reliance on a voiceover narration by the lead characters. Now, radio dramas can go in two directions. Some avoid narration altogether, preferring to tell the story simply through the scenes, like a TV drama. And, when done right, it can be amazing how clearly action can be conveyed just by the scenes themselves in an audio drama — where you can “picture” the character’s expression even during a silent pause.

However, I don’t object to a voice over narration — either by the lead character, or even by a third person “voice of god” narrator. It can be useful to clarify a scene (particularly an action scene) that might be confusing in a non-visual format, or to provide a commentary, or emotional perspective (by allowing us inside the character’s thoughts) or even just provide a literary colour by bridging scenes with poetic descriptions (in the Khaner-focused episode, I seem to recall a nice passage or two as she describes driving out of Toronto for the week-end). But I do think narration should be used sparingly, to support the scenes, not the other way around. And I did find Trust Inc maybe was leaning a bit too heavily on the narration, not always allowing the scenes to breathe on their own, allowing us to be rooted in the moment by virtue of the sounds and atmosphere, or to allow the actors to define a scene by their delivery — a pregnant pause, a slyly delivered line. If you’re having a conversation between characters and it’s constantly being broken up by the voiceover commenting on the scene, there’s a danger — not always, but often — that it will pull us out of the moment, when you want to be pushing us into it. At times it seemed almost as if it’s an audio book as much as a radio drama. It’s particularly problematic if the narration is basically utilitarian, describing actions (and emotions) we can readily infer. Granted, I’m sure actors like that…it allows them to delve into their character’s psyches by literally filtering every moment through their character’s perceptions.

Afghanada and Backbencher both, to my mind, leaned a bit too heavily on the narration, while, for example, Monsoon House used it just to bridge scenes, while Canadia 2056 only used it to introduce the episodes. Baldi (the U.K. series I mentioned) doesn’t use any narration at all.

Trust Inc is not a bad series, in terms of acting or production. But it’s a series that just doesn’t really spark for me. And really, that’s all I’m talking about — how I, as an individual, react. As I mentioned, some episodes have held my attention better than others, suggesting maybe it’s finding its footing. But it still gets down to the fact that I’ve listened to a few episodes simply to give it a chance…rather than because it truly is interesting me the way I listen to other radio dramas because I want to.

I’m glad CBC Radio is still in the business of radio drama. In fact, I want them to do more. After all, the more they do, the less a single show like Trust Inc has to shoulder so much of the burden. People who like Trust Inc can like Trust Inc, and people who don’t could then listen to something else.

But left to man the fort by itself, Trust Inc is a perfectly okay radio drama — but maybe a too smugly earnest one.

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The “Game Changers” of Canadian TV

I keep drafting essays I intend to post — but then a random comment in one will kind of drag my thoughts off in a whole new direction for a different piece altogether. This post ended up morphing out of something I was thinking of writing about the CBC’s recent TV movie adaptation of Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town — and I might get to posting that. But I got hung up on reading a comment from one of the actors in that movie, Peter Keleghan, who was proud of the film and suggested it was a “game changer” for Canadian TV.

Keleghan’s point, I think, was that the movie was (in his mind) so good, it was re-setting the bar for Canadian productions. Now, whether or not you liked Sunshine Sketches, I’m not really sure I would call it a “game changer” — indeed, if anything, it seemed like a bit of a throw back to the kind of period pieces the CBC used to do regularly. Sunshine Sketches was certainly relatively expensive, with a huge cast…but I’m not sure I saw it as re-setting any bars…or, indeed, what exactly that bar might be even if it had re-set it.

But it got me thinking — what were the “game changers”?

Looking back through Canadian TV, were there things we can point to that arguably influenced the productions that came after them? I don’t just mean they were good productions, or entertaining — heck, in some cases they might only be okay, in and of themselves — but you could make a strong case that if they hadn’t existed, the shape of future productions would’ve taken on a different form…or not existed at all. In some cases they might have influenced simply their particular era, in other cases, their influence might be on-going.

And that, too, springs out of a few other essays I was working on (and may still post) musing on the nature of Canadian culture, and pop cultural history — of acknowledging the present owes a tip of the hat to the past.

So here is a rundown of, arguably, 11 of the most influential productions in Canadian TV.

1) Wojeck — this mid-1960s CBC drama about a crusading coroner was important both as being one of the first hour-long dramas attempted on Canadian TV, but also in its blatant earnest-ness. Oh, sure, it did let its hair down with occasional “lighter” episodes that were more straight forward crime/mystery dramas, but there’s no doubt Wojeck saw its dramatic framework as an excuse to tackle hot button issues of the day. As such it arguably set the tone for many “social”-dramas that came after it — from McQueen, Sidestreet, The Manipulators, all the way up to Street Legal, DaVinci’s Inquest and even, possibly, the 1980s cop drama Night Heat which veered into “social issue” plots in a way that wasn’t altogether common for the U.S. cop series it was ostensibly emulating. (It should also be pointed out that most people would argue Wojeck also influenced the U.S. series, “Quincy“) Now, to be fair — “issue” dramas were not unknown before Wojeck, either in Canada or the U.S. and Britain. Indeed, an earlier CBC series, R.C.M.P., though I’ve only seen a bit of it, also seemed to have a kind of Wojeck-ian “gritty” edge, too. In fact, that attitude of drama having to be more than just entertainment was itself a product of the Canadian film tradition which had evolved out of a documentary more than a fiction background. What’s equally interesting is that Wojeck didn’t seem to inspire imitations of its “style” — its episodes often experimental, playing around with chronology, and flashbacks. Many subsequent Canadian series may’ve been inspired by Wojeck’s social earnestness…but tended to be done as more conventional TV dramas.

2) Street Legal (CBC) was arguably one of the first true populist TV drama successes in Canada. A lawyer series initially arising out of that Wojeck-mould to which I alluded, it premiered around the same time as the hit U.S. series L.A. Law — and though still keeping a toe on its socially earnest roots, it was gradually re-shaped more in the style of that Hollywood series, with a greater emphasis on the soap opera of its characters, and faster-paced plots, with multiple stories per episode (as opposed to the first season where each episode tended to focus on a particular partner in the firm) and it became more and more popular and ran a number of years. And I can’t help thinking its success led to subsequent ensemble dramas and “professional” drama series inparticular (ie: series about professionals in a work place) — most notably CTV’s ENG (in which we also had an “ensemble” that was fronted by a woman — a rarity in the 1980s — and in which a sub-plot had her romantically involved with a “younger” hot headed Italian-Canadian hunk…just like Street Legal had done). And, of course, in its turn ENG may have influenced The Eleventh Hour.

3) Night Heat (CTV) may have influenced the direction of Canadian TV in a number of ways. Although initially dismissed by some critics as just an American-style cop drama…maybe that was the point. Despite a certain social earnestness (that maybe lingered from the days of Wojeck) it was a fast-paced, hard-boiled mystery-drama of wailing sirens, and occasional shoot outs that shook off the stodgy image that Canadian TV had and maybe more than anything before it proved Canadians could do pulpy entertainment when they put their minds to it, and could pull it together — in terms of writing, editing, direction, etc. It was also probably the first successful Canada-U.S. TV co-production (there had been others, but usually only lasting a season or two) even proving a programming centre piece for CBS in the States when they were airing a series of first run dramas in a post-primetime slot (their Crime Time After Prime Time block) and so it proved the viability of such efforts and it could be argued essentially paved the way for every co-production since then. Ironically, Night Heart was an all-Canadian production in terms of the stars, the scripts, the directors, whereas many later co-productions would hire American actors to star, and often with scripts (or at least script editors) hired from Hollywood.

4) Due South (CTV) took Night Heat’s ball and ran with it by taking the co-production template and moving it to the next level of prime time U.S. network TV. And just as Night Heat arguably proved Canadians could make credible American-style crime-dramas, likewise, Due South took it one step further by offering an “expensive” American style action-drama, with car chases, stunts, leaps from windows — not to mention slickly presented comic banter and interplay. I’m not sure Canadian TV had seen anything quite as professionally slick as Due South before. Previous series had proven Canada could make things as good as the Americans, as long as they stayed within certain parameters — Street Legal as basically a talking head drama, Night Heat which made a certain low-budgetness a necessary part of a its gritty, street-level atmosphere. Adderly was an action-comedy with stunts and fights…but it had a certain low-budget look to it. But Due South was pure Hollywood panache — and done about a guy wearing red serge! And it became a true international success, with a fandom to this day. And, if you want to talk about “game changers”, it basically re-positioned Paul Gross (already a leading man, but in parochial Canadian productions) as a populist star, who has gone on to be a significant film actor and director in Canada…stuff that probably wouldn’t have happened for him if he hadn’t starred in Due South. Admittedly, Due South’s influence on actual programs was more limited — the short lived action-comedy, Taking the Falls, and the TV movie would-be pilot, Love on the Run, being examples of programs that were probably inspired by it (mismatched-buddy action/comedies). But they weren’t successful, and Due South ultimately did not kick off a trend of similar series.

5) North of 60‘s (CBC) influence is, in a sense, almost more culturally profound than any other production on this list. I mean, sure, it was a slick, night time drama — arguably building on the ensemble drama tone of Street Legal, but anticipating the Hollywood-style gloss and confidence of Due South. And for a number of years after it went off the air, it was maybe beginning to look as though it would also be remembered as the last successful all-Canadian TV drama (but the current crop of drama series are finally starting to show healthier ratings). It wasn’t the first Canadian drama set in the wintery north (the high school drama 9B was there ahead of it) but one could argue it helped show that Canadian drama didn’t all have to be set in American-style big cities. But that’s not why I say it was culturally profound. No, arguably its biggest influence was being a drama set on an Indian Reserve. In a way, maybe the fact that we almost don’t think of that as being so significant is a good sign…but make no mistake — it was astonishingly unprecedented. North American Television had seen nothing like it before. Certainly I don’t think there had ever been something like it on U.S. TV, where Native roles were rare. Critics initially compared North of 60 to the U.S. series Northern Exposure, but Northern Exposure was about white characters with a few token, quirky Indians flirting about the peripheries. So in that sense, maybe North of 60′s roots date back to the days of The Forest Rangers, Adventures in Rainbow County and The Beachcombers which helped establish the idea of Native characters as being a legitimate part of Canadian drama in a way they weren’t in American TV. And there was the precedent of a predominantly Native cast with the youth-aimed series Spirit Bay. But an adult-aimed, expensive, prime time network drama about Native Indians? And even though North of 60 introduced us to the setting through the eyes of a white character (a mounty transferred to the area), it was an ensemble cast, the Native characters driving their own storylines, as much the leads as any of the (few) white characters. It helped make recognizable stars out of Tom Jackson, Tina Keeper, and the late Gordon Tootoosis. Perhaps equally it helped break Native Indian roles out of the archetypes of “wise old shaman” and “angry young renegade” and just let them be people in all their grey shade permutations. Would there have been The Rez, or Moccasin Flats, or Cashing In, or Blackstone, or even the current CBC drama, Arctic Air (with its large contingent of Native characters) without North of 60? Heck, would the Aboriginal Peoples Television Network have gotten off the ground if North of 60 hadn’t both galvanized the Native audience with an enthusiasm to see themselves on TV, and equally proving that Native-focused dramas could grab even a white audience? Well, consider this: since North of 60 aired, there have been, as mentioned, a number of Native dramas on Canadian TV, and Arctic Air boasts not just a number of Native actors in its mixed cast, but even as its top billed star. In that same time period…has there been even one comparable American series? Of course, CTV and Global haven’t really stepped up to the plate, either.

6) In a similar vein, was the CBC’s Codco. On one hand, it was just another sketch comedy series — arguably a little influential, and lasting longer than many sketch comedies that came before. But it certainly wasn’t the first sketch comedy on Canadian TV, nor even the first controversial one (heck, back in the 1960s, I think Nightcap raised a few eyebrows). But like North of 60, it perhaps changed the game by virtue of its ethnicity — by being a Newfoundland sketch comedy. Prior to it, I don’t think there had ever been a Canadian TV series set on the East Coast, and precious few motion pictures. And bear in mind, this was still around the time of “Newfie” jokes — so to have a bunch of Newfoundland comics blast on to prime time with their accents intact and proving as biting, and caustic, and edgy as anyone else, perhaps re-set people’s perceptions of the whole East Coast (I think it was actually shot in Nova Scotia). Not only did it, of course, lead to the long running This Hour Has 22 Minutes, but I’m pretty sure it helped establish the East Coast as a viable production centre for TV and motion pictures, directly and indirectly clearing a path for everything from the sci-fi drama Lexx, to the Trailer Park Boys, to the current action-comedy, Republic of Doyle.

7) Anne of Green Gables was a cultural touchstone long before its early 1980s TV mini-series, but still that particular CBC production set the style for the next few years. Writer/director Kevin Sullivan had already made one or two family dramas, with little wide impact, before he adapted L.M. Montgomery’s classic to the small screen, in the process making lead Meghan Follows a minor star. And for the next few years Sullivan was a giant of Canadian TV, with series like Road to Avonlea, Wind at My Back, and even limited series like By Way of the Stars, even gaining emulators (that surest sign of influence) with series like Emily of New Moon. In fact, family dramas seemed to be one of the CBC’s surest ways to ratings success for a number of years. But times change, executives get replaced with new guys with new vision, and the Sullivan school seemed to fall out of fashion a bit, but that doesn’t deny the significance Anne and Sullivan had for a number of years. Indeed, although the current CBC drama, Heartland, isn’t stylistically cut from the same cloth, the fact that the CBC is once more airing a hit “family” drama in the 7:00 PM Sunday timeslot once held by those old shows maybe suggests an influence still.

8) 8) The Degrassi series (CBC/CTV/MuchMusic) — and no, I have no idea why there’s a smiley face there, but I can’t get rid of it! — are perhaps the most significantly influential un-influential productions in Canadian TV. I mean, the series began in the 1980s as The Kids of Degrassi Street, went through various variations as the cast aged (climaxing in Degrassi High), before stopping…but remaining memorable enough to even warrant references in American films (like those by Kevin Smith). Then the series was revised — this time shaking off the on-the-cheap, cinema verite style of the originals for a slicker, more American style Beverly Hills 90210 vibe and is still going a decade or so later. I mean — you can’t argue with that, a series (at least in name) that has run, off and on, for over three decades! And certainly, there are few Canadians who if you refer to “Degrassi” wouldn’t know it was a teen-aimed TV series. Yet the reason I suggest it may not be that influential (after all, the point of my list) is because I’m not sure how much it affected other shows — but certainly there have been other Canadian teen dramas, ranging from Madison, Edgemont, Northwood, and Renegade Press. Would they have existed without Degrassi to set the tone? Maybe not. And Degrassi was certainly edgy and controversial, some episodes dealing with such hot button topics that they were dropped from airing in markets in the United States (though it rarely caused a fuss in Canada) and that “edgy”-ness might well have influenced other Canadian teen dramas to stray outside the safety zones in which comparable American series play. So Degrassi is a significant pin we can put in the map of Canadian TV.

9) Flashpoint (CTV) follows in the path of Night Heat and Due South, so in that sense one could quibble about its significance — but I think it still warrants its own place as a “game changer”. Initially greenlit as simply a Canadian cop-drama, American executives came sniffing around during a Hollywood writers strike, hoping to find some new shows that they could produce that wouldn’t violate union rules — and Canadian writers and crews weren’t part of the American strike. So a co-production deal was struck. But where Flashpoint was different from most previous Canada-U.S. co-productions was that they were either set in the U.S., or set in an anonymous Anytown, North America, or worked the dual nationality into the story, either about an American in Canada, or a Canadian in America. But Flashpoint was set in Canada with no especial effort to work in some kind of American presence into the story. And unlike almost all those previous series (with the exception of Due South) it found a spot on American network primetime. It proved a ratings success, and immediately led to a number of subsequent primetime co-productions, many, like it, more-or-less admitting they were set in Canada with Canadian actors, writers, directors, etc. One could even make the argument that the ratings success of many of these Hollywood-backed shows, in Canada, helped revitalize the Canadian TV industry, leading to the recent crop of Canadian dramas — even those without U.S. partners — winning solid audience numbers.

10) The irony about The Newsroom (CBC) when it premiered was that a few naysayers simply dismissed it as a “rip-off” of the U.S. cable series, The Larry Sanders Show. And there’s no doubt it shared a stylistic similarity — but I’m not sure I would call that a rip-off. I mean, in film and TV (and art in general) that’s how mediums evolve, someone does something first, and others pick up on it. If they didn’t…we’d still be watching black & white silent movies shot from still cameras. And though the two series shared a similar style — no laugh track, and shot like a drama — and both were media satires, they weren’t the same idea. Larry Sanders was about the apolitical behind-the-scenes antics of a Tonight Show-like celebrity interview series, with the main character the host. The Newsroom was about a TV news show, making it a far more provocative political satire, with its main character the behind-the-scenes producer. You might as well claim Republic of Doyle is a “rip off” of Magnum PI because they’re both about private eyes who live on an island (and believe me, there are people who will claim that — but to most of us, you need a few more specific parallels to cry rip-off). And at that point, I’m not sure network TV in either Canada or the U.S. had seen anything like it (Larry Sanders being a cable series) — I suppose an advantage to the fact that the CBC, and to a lesser extent even Canadian private networks, are often a little more open to off-beat programming than U.S. networks. And it seems funny to accuse the Newsroom of ripping off The Larry Sanders Show…when nowadays it seems half the sitcoms out there use a similar drama/pseudo-documentary style. Anyway, The Newsroom proved a surprise commercial and critical hit at a point when Canadian sitcoms had become an endangered species and it ended up shaping the look, tone and even subject matter (many comedies set within media organizations) of many Canadian sitcoms that followed. Creator/star Ken Finkleman himself became his own little mini-factory, churning out a number of subsequent series. One could even argue it influenced even less stylistically similar series — like Corner Gas, which though a conventional sitcom in tone, nonetheless was shot without a laugh track and on location, rather than before a studio audience. Now to be fair, that had already been tried earlier — with the later seasons of the sitcom Material World. But Material World didn’t really seem to have any immediate influence on the programs of its era, whereas the post-Newsroom series followed quickly on its heels. Granted, many of these series didn’t last too long, but I can’t help thinking that without The Newsroom, there wouldn’t have been a lot of subsequent Canadian sitcoms (from Made in Canada to Twitch City to Big Sound)…or they’d have been done in a significantly different style (including recent shows like Mr. D, Michael: Tuesdays & Thursdays, and even InSecurity). The Newsroom may also have started the trend of actors creating vehicles for themselves, as many subsequent sitcoms (and even some dramas like Republic of Doyle) are created by their stars…in a significantly greater proportion than, for example, American series. Again, The Newsroom wasn’t the first (Seeing Things was created by its star) but it was the first that was so clearly at the front of a trend.

11) And what about CTV’s Corner Gas? Its artistic influence is a little harder to quantify (though the setting of a small prairie town was recycled for the subsequent Little Mosque on the Prairie) but it was probably the biggest, most successful Canadian series of its day, and pumped a shot of adrenaline into the failing heart of Canadian comedy (that had begun to fade away again after The Newsroom briefly kick started it). One could argue the fact that we even have had recent Canadian sitcoms is partly attributable to Corner Gas’s success. Not just that, but writers who worked on Corner Gas have gone on to show run subsequent sitcoms. Though its long term influence is yet to be determined — many of the sitcoms not doing that well, with even those fronted by ex-Corner Gas stars being cancelled after a couple of seasons.

Now as I said at the beginning, I was trying to suggest “game changers” — series that shaped and influenced Canadian TV. I wasn’t necessarily saving these were the “best” series, or that there weren’t equally good, or even better series…but they might not have been as influential. So what are some honourable mentions?

Well, the 1970s sitcom King of Kensington was probably English-Canada’s first successful sitcom, and star Al Waxman was probably recognized as “Larry King” to the day he died. So it was culturally significant…I’m just not sure it had much influence, in the sense of paving the way for other shows, or starting a trend within Canadian comedy. Although there are always behind the scenes influences, in that a story editor on King of Kensington was writer-actor Louis Del Grande…and one assumes Del Grande’s efforts on King of Kensington led to CBC brass okaying him to create and star in the subsequent Seeing Things. Now there’s a worthy honourable mention — Seeing Things was arguably one of the best and brightest Canadian series of its era, a witty mystery-comedy about a psychic reporter. It was a great show…I’m just not sure it had much impact on later series (although the number of subsequent Canadian mystery series about some sort of special, or even super powered, detective — in a country not always prone to “fantastical” TV — maybe owes something to Seeing Things…including the current The Listener about a psychic medic!)

Little Mosque on the Prairie may well go down in Canadian history as a cultural milestone — a sitcom about small town Muslims in North America, and where they were the main characters (as opposed to being about, say, a WASP hero befriending some “alien” Muslims) it smashed ratings records with its premiere and garnered international attention. Like North of 60 before it, it perhaps showed Canadian audiences were more open to pluralistic heroes and environments than you might expect…or might expect on an American network. But its creative influence is less apparent — in themes, or style, or diverse ethnicity. Sure, its brown heroes might have led Global to experiment with its black sitcom, Da Kink in My Hair, but in general, the jury’s still out on whether the future of Canadian sitcoms will be influenced by Little Mosque.

There have been series that ran for a few years, and have their fans — but that doesn’t necessarily mean they were “game changers”. Made in Canada ran years…but it was just following The Newsroom’s lead. The big city drama, Traders, has its fans, and certainly it had some technical influence in that for a while after it, directors and writers would often heavily reference it in their resumes…but it arguably was just reading from the Street Legal play book, without any particular signature moves of its own that we can definitively say shaped future series. Trailer Park Boys was certainly a cult hit, and even spawned successful motion pictures — but I don’t think it has especially influenced or re-shaped Canadian TV (maybe its coarse, profanity laden scripts pointed a direction for Rent-a-Goalie and others…although even then, Canadian series with coarse language had been around before).

Now if you want to talk about a series that should’ve been a “game changer” we could look at Slings & Arrows, the comedy-drama set at a theatre festival. In terms of sheer professionalism and panache, I’m not sure Canadian TV has ever produced anything to beat it — particularly its first season. A Robert Altman-esque dramady — but Altman at his pinnacle, like Nashville or something — done as a weekly series, Slings & Arrows was refreshing, edgy, sure footed, and deliciously complex and ambitious (though I did think each of its three seasons was a little less effective than the one before). But even though it easily warrants a place as one of the best things done for Canadian TV…I’m just not sure I can point to any obvious influence it has had, so far.

We can point to influences and mini-trends — I was thinking of mentioning the CBC mini-series Love and Hate, which landed a spot on American primetime and begat a brief mini-boom of Canadian made (and set!) TV movies and mini-series on American network TV — including Conspiracy of Silence and Million Dollar Babies. Or there was Douglas Bowie’s various pulpy historical dramas on the CBC in the 1980s — which you can hear an echo of in Global’s current hit, Bomb Girls. And one could argue that the dark Durham County was foreshadowed by the limited series Dice. Then there’s The Lost Girl (an all-Canadian fantasy series) which was arguably greenlit thanks to the success of Sanctuary (another all-Canadian fantasy series) and Sanctuary sprang out of StarGate (the actors and writers using their popularity from that series to get Sanctuary into production) and the various StarGate series totalled 3 live action series (and I think an animated one)…but StarGate itself arose out of the co-production trend that, arguably, began with Due South and, before that, Night Heat. So although we can point to its influence…I’m not sure if “game changer” is quite the appropriate designation. Without StarGate, people like Amanda Tapping (Sanctuary) and Michael Shanks (set to star in the upcoming Saving Hope) wouldn’t have become stars…but I’m just not sure the overall course of Canadian TV would necessarily be any different without it — or whether something else would’ve merely arisen to take its place.

Anyway, so there we have it — a little meander through Canadian TV history and looking at the key players (kind of like Max the 2000 Year Old Mouse – say, now there’s an important Canadian touchstone!) Did I miss some obvious ones? Did I overstate the importance of others. Yeah, maybe — but still, I think it provides some food for thought.

Posted in Canadian film and TV | 2 Comments

Those Who Don’t Learn From Time Travel TV Series Are Doomed to Repeat Them…

And that cheeky paraphrasing of George Santayana’s oft-referenced admonishment leads us into today’s topic, kiddies n’ pals…

Sometimes you’ll see books (or advice columns) about how to write great movies, hit movies, how to craft a great screenplay. But, you know, I’ve sometimes thought it might be interesting to write a book, not so much on the “Do”s of writing…so much as the “Don’t”s — how to avoid writing a bad script. I was thinking about this because of how often I’ll see bad movies (or TV series) — or not bad, but let’s just say commercially unsuccessful — that seem to repeat the same cliches as previous unsuccessful movies and TV series. Now there’s nothing wrong with that — there’s nothing wrong with seeing an idea or plot idea that hasn’t worked and saying, hey, I’m going to make it work this time, because I know what the others did wrong! (The Wright Brothers weren’t the first people to build an airplane — they were just the first to build it right) But a lot of the time I get the impression problematic ideas get recycled…simply because those using it now are completely ignorant that it didn’t work before. Hence why a book pointing out bad story points might be as useful as a book pointing out good ones.

These thoughts got churned up in my mind reading about the up-coming Canadian-made SF series called Continuum. Now I touched on Continuum a few postings back — back when its press releases announced it under the working title of “Out of Time“. And, yes, I’m still just looking at press releases (the series itself in production but still a few months away from a broadcast date). So why am I musing and reflecting upon a series I haven’t yet seen, you ask? Isn’t that unfair to it? Well, yes…and no. After all, the reason the producers are putting out press releases is because they are hoping to galvanize viewers, to stir up enthusiasm, prior to the show’s premiere. They want to get us thinking and talking about the show, sight unseen. So that’s what I’m doing.

I also like to look at it from a purely academic, abstract point of view. You see, I’m interested in the process of storytelling — the choices made (and not made), the archetypes and cliches that work…and those that don’t. I’ve watched a lot of TV and movies over the years (and read a lot of novels, etc.). And, I’m guessing, so have you. So any time a “new” show comes along…we all can’t help viewing it in the context of those that came before.

I’m rooting for Continuum — honest. But there are a few things, based simply on a few paragraphs in press releases, that kind of worry me, that kind of erode my fan-boy enthusiasm before they’ve finished the edit on the first episode.

The fact that Continuum has undergone a name change can maybe raise an eyebrow — but isn’t really as ominous as it sounds. Series undergo pre-production title changes all the time. It might make the producers seem a bit like flibbertigibbets, unable to even settle on a name…but it doesn’t necessarily reflect upon the quality of the production (it’s when something’s been released, and bombed, and then they re-name it that can you can see it as a bad sign).

In my earlier post where I referenced the series (when it was called Out of Time) I suggested the premise sounded problematic — simply because it had been done many times before, with limited success. The premise of the series is that a cop from the future has come to modern times to hunt down criminals from the future. There’s nothing wrong with idea — but the very tidiness of the premise might suggest it could get repetitious very quickly. More to the point, the idea of an otherworldly cop chasing otherworldly crooks in a (budget-saving) modern big city had been the inspiration for past series — Time Trax (most obviously), Tracker, Brimstone and others I referenced in my earlier post. Most lasting only a season or two before cancellation — if that. Now, just because a premise has been tried, and found unsuccessful, doesn’t mean a new creative team can’t find that twist, that fresh window into its creative core, that will make it work this time — but they kind of need to be aware of the pitfalls in order to avoid them. Hence my allusion to George Santayana.

Indeed, a new American series, Alcatraz, sounds like it’s another variation on the general premise.

(In my earlier post, I even mused about a variation on the premise that would allow them to keep the basic idea…but broaden the story possibilities).

Of course, times change, audience expectations — and the demographic needs of cable networks — can alter. I’ve seen series do well today that aren’t noticeably different, or an improvement, over older series that tanked. So maybe Continuum just needs to be the right series at the right time — nothing more.

But another plot point came up in the more recent press release — a more detailed description of the premise. And it struck me as funny — because it was a plot cliche I’d been thinking about even before I knew Continuum was going to use it. A plot device that, frankly, strikes me as problematic…and doomed to failure. A plot device that I had actually considered referencing maybe in an essay on the do-s and don’t-s of a TV series.

To whit: according to the press release, our heroine will be stuck in modern times…separated from her husband and child. So we can infer a running theme will be her pining for her lost family, always hoping someday they will be reunited.

Unfortunately, I’ve seen it before and (cue Mr. Santayana) it almost never works!

I mean, at first glance it seems like a good idea — rife with pathos and emotional drama, every week the hero(ine) looking longingly into space, wondering if they’ll ever be reunited –every…episode…week…after…fricking…week. (I think you see where I’m headed with this) It seems like an emotionally rich idea — but it’s a narrative dead end. It was a dead end when they used it in the recently cancelled The Cape (outlaw hero separated from his wife and child), or the one-season wonder that was The Crow (ghostly hero separated from his ghost girlfriend). It was such a dead end in The Beastmaster (hero searching for his kidnapped irreplaceable one true love) that they killed her off after a season (the hero discovering she wasn’t so irreplaceable after all, apparently). Heck, back in the 1960s, in The Silver Surfer comic books, they almost made it work, simply because writer Stan Lee and artist John Buscema invested the panels with such purple passion and hearts-on-their-sleeves emotiveness — but it too got real old, real fast.

The problem is, it can’t go anywhere.

A TV series (particularly today) is about movement, about narrative drive. Separated lovers can’t progress in their relationship, so you end up with scenes that are basically just the same repetitious scenes, week after week. Either of the characters separate, thinking about each other (which precludes really generating any chemistry between the characters so that we, the viewer, can be invested in the relationship) or maybe flashback scenes, as they remember better times…which also bog down the plot (since the scenes have no impact in the current story, and basically just exist as character scenes within a narrative vacuum). All with no real hope that plot line will go anywhere. And by giving the protagonist this lost love…it kind of hamstrings the possibility of romance in their current environment, often a big part of TV series — hence why the lost love is sometimes killed off as the writers realize it’s keeping them from exploring more viable story ideas. Now maybe in Continuum that’s the point — given the heroine is going to be teamed with a hunky guy cop, the lost hubby idea is simply to provide an obstacle to their burgeoning relationship (after all, in the will they/won’t they romantic tension used by many TV series, the hard thing is to come up with a some reason why consenting adults might be resisting their mutual attraction). But that still seems problematic to me — setting up this past relationship simply to be disposable.

I honestly can’t think of a series that used the “separated lovers” idea where it worked. Can you?

And then we get to the casting.

Again, in my earlier post, I suggested that I was looking forward to seeing who would be cast (the roles not assigned at the time of the earlier press release) — wondering if it would be some favourite actress of mine, or some unknown, or what. Well, casting has been announced and the lead, starring role has gone to — drum roll please!Rachel Nichols. And I can feel a little deflated. Oh, I’m not saying anything against Ms. Nichols…indeed, I’ve never heard of her, nor to my knowledge have I seen her in anything (looking at some credits, I guess I have seen her in things…just not to identify her). She may be a fine performer. But she is an American. And as anyone knows who’s spent much time paying attention to the Canadian entertainment industry, reserving leading roles for American actors has long been a frustration in the Canadian entertainment biz.

It’s not as bad as it was. Indeed, quite a few “Canadian” series airing right now feature Canadian actors as the leads. But that hasn’t always been the case, and I’d hate to see the industry start back sliding so soon, like an alcoholic falling off the wagon when he’d only quit drinking a week before.

And it could well be that Ms. Nichols American status had nothing to do with her casting. It could be she really was the best person for the role, that the producers had scoured high and low through the Canadian talent pool and not found an actress who could embody the role as well. Fair enough. Certainly that’s what producers usually claim in such circumstances, and sometimes they’re telling the truth, and sometimes they’re lying, and sometimes…they’re lying to themselves (in that they did hold a few token Canadian casting calls…but never in their hearts seriously considered the Canadian actors).

I like American actors — I liked David Marciano in Due South. Richard Dean Anderson was a personable lead in StarGate: SG-1. And so on. But it can be frustrating when there are so few TV series made in Canada, and even fewer clearly aiming for (hoping for) an international distribution — and then when the roles do come along, the producers hang out a sign that says “No Canucks Need Apply”.

Actually, listed in the supporting cast is Canadian actress Lexa Doig — and, honestly, I could easily see Doig carrying a lead role in a series (plus Doig has a sci-fi recognition factor after 5 seasons of Andromeda). But I guess Ms. Doig had the misfortune to be born Canadian…and brown (oh, don’t get me started on that topic, or we’ll never be done).

(I should also point out that I’m labelling Rachel Nichols as “American” simply based on her birth place, and a list of credits at the IMDB that don’t seem to be Canadian. I know nothing about her otherwise. Maybe she does have some Canadian connection. Maybe she was raised in Canada, or spends her summers in a cottage in Canada. It’s problematic in an immigrant-heavy country like Canada to be too quick, or Draconian, in labelling people as “non-Canadian”. The definition of “Canadian” can be pretty broad — and I can be even looser, myself.)

Co-starring in Continuum is Canadian actor Victor Webster. And, I’ll admit, again…not so much enthusiasm from me. Not that I’ve seen Webster in much — Mutant X, years ago, a recurring role on Castle, a few guest spots. There’s nothing wrong with him…but so far nothing that really excites my enthusiasm about how he tackles a scene or milks nuance from dialogue, either (granted, I’m not female, so less swayed by Webster’s chisled jaw and rock hard abs).

Still, both Nichols and Webster could easily win me over — the proof of the pudding will be in the tasting, obviously. I repeat — I’m just writing this as an exercise in visceral-ness. The producers release a press release, hoping to galvanize a reaction — and that’s what I’m giving them.

Continuum lists Jeff King as its show runner. And, again, going through his CV…King doesn’t exactly fire any enthusiasm. It isn’t that King hasn’t a long list of credits, he does. It isn’t that he hasn’t been involved in some decent shows — he has. But there’s little indication he’s got any particular Midas touch, that with Mr. King looking over everyone’s shoulders, we’re guaranteed a good production. A lot of one or two season misfires (with an American actor as lead), a lot of, well, competent mediocrity (to quote a line from a long ago Canadian movie). Granted, King is a professional — with that long list of credits he clearly knows how to get a production done. And, again, like with Webster (or Nichols) seeing his name in the credits shouldn’t make me (or you) run away — not at all. But if you’re someone who regards the history of Canadian TV with cynicism — King perhaps falls into the category of being one of the “usual suspects”.

One final point is that in the initial press release it was stated the series would be set in Vancouver. Yet the premise involved the criminals from the future escaping from Death Row — which (as I mentioned in my earlier post) is odd, given Canada doesn’t have the death penalty, kind of making one wonder how “Canadian” the series will be. Well in the most recent press release…there’s no reference to it being set in Vancouver. It will be filmed there…that doesn’t mean it will be set there. So it’ll be interesting to see the finished series to see if it clearly admits it’s set in Canada…or whether it drapes American flags from every window and pretends it’s set in the United States…or whether it will go the middle route of not really saying it isn’t set in Canada (and with Vancouverites able to recognize street corners and the like) while avoiding idiosyncratically Canadian references to Mounties, and Premiers, and Loonies, and Celsius.

So what’s my point? What’s the purpose of all this naysaying — this Eeyoring (as I called it in another post)?

Well, a few things. One, maybe by expressing my cynicism up front, I can clear it out of my system, so that when the series airs, it can’t help but exceed my expectations (as opposed to assuming it’ll be brilliant, and being disappointed). I’ve been cynical before…and pleasantly surprised with the final product.

Maybe by saying these things up front — divorced from any rancour or bias (since I haven’t seen the series) it will get people thinking about the underlining principles. Heck, maybe the makers of the series will stumble upon my blog and, after an initial screaming fit and declaring I’m a sad, pathetic, loser who can’t appreciate their genius…maybe they will calm down, think I raise some valid points, and tweak the series accordingly. Who knows?

But it all gets back to my initial point — and title of this post. Stories don’t exist in a vacuum. And it’s worth knowing your roots, knowing what came before, in order to avoid similar fates.

It’s not enough to assume you’re a genius, and therefore your series will inherently be better than the previous failed examples. You have to decide why they failed (if only to your own satisfaction) and make a plan to succeed. You might well be a genius — indeed, the difference between a “good” series and a “bad” series is often simply the execution, the dialogue, the pacing, the characterization, as much as any broad strokes idea or premise. But you can’t bank on being a genius, either. Just as the first sign of insanity is to not realize you’re insane…perhaps the first sign of NOT being a genius is to think you ARE a genius.

I mean, everyone thinks they’re a genius in the arts — they have to, because art is subjective. A brick layer knows he’s good at his job if the wall doesn’t fall down. The artist has no such criteria, so he has to believe in himself. But that can be a trap, too.

So I’m put in mind of a quote from the British sitcom, Yes, Minister, where an exasperated character tersely advises another character: “If you’re going to do this damn silly thing, don’t do it in this damn silly way!”

And I guess that would be my advice, in a sense.

If you want to make a series using the problematic cliches of a future cop after future criminals, pining for her separated lover — fine. If you want to hire an American actress ’cause the Canadians aren’t good enough — fine. If you want to Americanize it (with the death penalty) and hire a veteran executive producer with an uneven track record — fine and fine again. If you want to do all the things that those before you have done — fine.

Do it — just do it right this time!

Posted in Canadian film and TV, Science Fiction & Fantasy | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

A Science Fiction Story

Despite this being my blog — I feel odd about using it for self-promotion, feeling I should be talking about other things. Which is sort of weird (after all, commenting and opining is, itself, narcassistic). But, anyway, I just thought I’d take a moment to draw attention to a story I had published on the webzine Escape Pod — partly because it was published as part of an audio webzine, which means there’s a guy reading the story (in addition to posting the story text). And, I’ll admit — that was kind of cool. Hearing another artist interpret your words can be problematic, but I enjoyed Josh Roseman’s reading — particularly the quirky way he did the narration (the story is a science fiction tale told from a robot’s POV). It was almost like hearing a dramatization of my story.

Called “Marking Time on the Far Side of Forever”, it was first published about a decade ago in the magazine Prairie Fire, a “special” mammoth issue with a variety of categories, and award winning science fiction author, Robert J. Sawyer, selected those for the SF category.

I have bittersweet feelings toward this story — personally it’s one of my favourites of what I’ve written, and a few other family members told me it was among the best things I ever wrote (and the Escape Pod forum has a number of nice comments). So why is that “bitter“-sweet? Well…one would like to think my “best” is still ahead of me!

Anyway, for those as are curious about me putting my money where my mouth is (particularly given how much time I spend commenting and critiquing the works of others) here’s a link…

http://escapepod.org/2011/12/15/ep323-marking-time-on-the-far-side-of-forever/

Posted in Radio and Audio drama, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment