back of the bus

I was happy to learn that The Chronicles of Riddick is a better movie than I'd been led to believe by my critical colleagues. It's not going to be an enduring classic of the genre, a la Bladerunner or the first Matrix, but it's a more-than-solid entry to the field of big sci-fi films. And while Riddick draws heavily from other stories, it doesn't exactly rip them off: as AX notes, it's a better Dune than Dune was. The Macbeth subplot is also welcome in that it offers something films like this rarely have: something else going on. There's Exodus in here, and a little Star Wars. A savvier cineaste will catch more than I did.

Most of what I know about film is technical; something I may not have mentioned here yet is that for several years, I was a second-generation member of IATSE. My father was so proud of my union card, especially since as a child I'd sworn I'd stay out of the film business. Then at 21 I confounded everyone (notably my profs, who wanted me to go to grad school in something boring) by becoming a junior rotoscoper for a special-effects company. For the next seven years, most of the movies I saw were either special-effects blockbusters (I needed to keep an eye on what our competition was doing) or Hong Kong actioners (the only time I could relax and ignore the wires). So while I know how stuff is done and could bore you endlessly with it, I don't have that firm a grasp of cinema history. I won't embarrass myself by listing all the films I haven't seen that everyone else has, but it's a long list.

Which is why I'm surprised the critics aren't getting Riddick: aren't they supposed to be savvy cineastes? Or is the problem simply that too few professional film critics know diddly-squat about science fiction? One local reviewer complained that he didn't understand what a "merc" was, revealing a stunning lack of depth. Every sci-fi reader worth their twenty-sided dice knows that "merc" is short for "mercenary". Heck, anyone who's read Tom Clancy knows that. Small thing, but I couldn't trust the rest of this guy's review. And I don't trust most film reviewers who can't show me that they know enough about science fiction (or comics, for that matter) to speak knowledgably about what they're seeing. It's like the disclaimer I wish I could attach to my own reviews of musical theater productions: I'm a stranger here myself; take all this with a grain of salt.

Or have I been completely hornswoggled by the astonishing design into thinking it's a better movie than it is?

I do think there's more going on in this film than a casual viewing would indicate. Something I haven't seen noted in any of the reviews I've read is the subtle way Vin Diesel (who co-produced) is using this film to make a statement about race relations. Okay, maybe it's not that subtle, but compared to the massive spaceships and choppy fight sequences, it is. Think about this for a minute. A group of largely very pale conquerors come to a warm, hospitable, vaguely Egyptianate planet populated by people of every hue and make slaves of the lot of them. Resist and your soul is dragged squirming from your body; accede and you get a reeducation and a funky scar on your throat that looks a lot like a brand.

The really telling moments though are scraps of dialogue. In one scene, a sneering bounty hunter asks the captive Riddick how it feels to be "all back of the bus," a question he'll live to regret. Later Riddick calms a bloodthirsty armored cat-thing through sustained eye contact. "It's an animal thing", he explains to a perplexed observer, and while we're meant to see that he's referring to himself as an animal (in the vicious and untamed sense of the word), it also resonates with the old line "It's a black thing, you wouldn't understand."

Either one of these lines taken alone could be seen as throwaway, but taken together they're telling. It seems that Diesel (who wants to star in a remake of Guys and Dolls, if you can believe it) is still out to tweak audiences--or is it Hollywood itself?--on the subject of race. Remember that he first came to attention for a short autobiographical film he made for $3,000 about an actor who can't get cast because directors can't place his race (Multi-Facial, which garnered rave reviews at Cannes), and that he steadfastly refuses to answer questions about his own composition, not wanting to be pigeonholed. Go back and look at the loft-party scene in XXX and you'll notice more diversity in the crowd of Xander's friends than we usually get in spy flicks. Look at the projects Diesel's choosing--whether or not you think they're all mindless actioners, there's a common thread: race is neither an indicator of capability or character. On a side note, neither is gender; women in the films Diesel chooses are tough and competent.

More strength to him, I say.