Movie Review: Cloverfield

Bring Dramamine.

Cloverfield, directed by Matt Reeves. Screenplay by Drew Goddard. Starring Lizzy Caplan, Lily Ford, and T. J. Miller. Produced by J. J. Abrams and Bryan Burk. Bad Robot, 2008. Runtime 84 minutes. Rated PG-13. USCCB Rating is AIII--Adults.

Read other reviews here.

Cloverfield is a smart retread of an old idea--a monster comes out of nowhere and stomps a city while people run around screamng and the military creates further mayhem by ineffectively trying to blow the monster up. In the midst of the chaos, Cloverfield offers a small human drama: a man (Michael Stahl-David) goes back into the thick of danger in order to rescue the woman he loves (Odette Yustman), a small group of friends follow him, and they take along an indestructible video camera. The blockheaded "cameraman," Hud (T. J. Miller), offers a humorously deadpan commentary throughout and deals with his own unrequited affection for a woman (Lizzy Caplan).

Cloverfield's various elements, taken individually, are pedestrian. The monster is nameless and generic, the characters are unoriginal and flat, the plot is by-the-numbers monster movie fare, and the script contains not a single memorable line. However, when these elements are put together, captured on what looks like a camcorder, combined with the convincing acting of a mostly unknown cast, and competently directed by Matt Reeves, they take on a surprising immediacy. I cannot remember the last time I saw an sf or fantasy film that so completely suspended my disbelief.

The acting has none of the cheesiness typical of monster films. Each of the actors genuinely appears to be an average joe caught in a horrible circumstance. The special effects are perfect and never distract. None of the CGI creatures or explosions appear fake. Even the questionable cinematography works to the movie's benefit: though intentionally badly framed, the cameras always capture exactly what we need to see so that the tilted shots and blurred images have a curious power. Even the script, though leaden, has an ending symmetrical with its beginning, satisfyingly concluding a story that would seem to be impossible to conclude satisfyingly.

If we think about it too hard, it's obvious this could never be a real home video. This camera takes abuse no real camera could survive. Somehow, Hud keeps filming even when dragging a wounded comrade by both hands or when engaged in hand-to-hand combat with giant killer crab/spider thingies.

Probably the movie's greatest drawback is its slow opening. The movie begins with a going-away party where Hud is stalking around with a camera, interviewing twenty-something characters and gossiping about other people's love lives. This lasts a good eighteen minutes and will fail to interest anyone who isn't a fan of MTV's The Real World. Though over-long, this sequence has its clever moments, and fortunately for all of us, it ends with a big explosion and the now-famous image of the Statue of Liberty's head lying in the street. From then on, the movie is good.

The shaky camera work may disturb some viewers; though I enjoyed it, I won't be quick to see it again, and I think we need a moratorium on this style of fake-umentary. Though it's inevitable, I have no wish to see Cloverfield II: I'm not sure the Blair Witch-meets-Godzilla concept can work twice.

Perhaps the film's greatest asset--and the basis for its plot--is a depiction of heroism inspired by love. The central characters, though shallow and thick-headed, manage to be heroes when they find the people they love most are in danger. Ultimately, in spite of the widespread destruction, that makes this a positive movie about self-sacrifice and redemption. Listen closely to the dialogue at the end if you don't believe me.

The Sci Fi Catholic's Rating for Cloverfield::

Myth Level: Medium-High (classic plot and characters, heroics)

Quality: High (an almost seamless production with a cool gimmick and a good cast)

Ethics/Religion: Medium (some vulgarity under stress, an implied premarital sexual encounter, positive depiction of bravery and generally good themes, some gore and scary moments)

Video Game Bioshock Reviewed Elsewhere

I'm here to tell you about an excellent review of the video game BioShock. I'm not a gamer, and my system couldn't run a game like this, so I haven't played it, but this review made me want to run out and buy a copy even though I couldn't do anything with it once I had it. The review in question is by Thomas L. McDonald and is available at the group blog Catholic Media Review.

The game is, so I understand, about one person (you) who has to escape an underwater city overrun with narcissistic baddies who enhance their genetic codes with weird chemicals. To get away from them, you have to enhance yourself as well and risk losing your humanity in the process. Here's a quote from the review:

As you need more and more of these drugs to progress through the game, you’re forced to make moral choices. You see, roaming throughout Rapture are a chilling pair of creatures: Big Daddy and Little Sister. Big Daddies are huge genetic mutants in heavily armed diving suits. Little Sisters are innocent looking little girls with ponytails, cute little dresses … and giant needles they use to suck the ADAM out of mutants after the Big Daddies kill them.

The Little Sisters are the work a female holocaust survivor, Dr. Tennenbaum, who creates them to produce ADAM. She thought the girls could be used without consequence, but didn’t count on them retaining their childlike characteristics. They’re still little girls, who sing, and laugh, and play. As Tennenbaum says at one point: “I look at genes all day long, and never do I see the blueprint of sin. I could blame the Germans, but in truth, I did not find tormentors in the Prison Camp, but kindred spirits. These children I brutalized have awoken something inside that for most is beautiful and natural, but in me, is an abomination... my maternal instinct.” [more...]

I have long believed video games are a legitimate and unique storytelling medium. According to this review, BioShock manages some serious action in the midst of philosophical musing, excellent writing, and tough ethical choices. Especially, the player must decide whether or not he will kill children. This looks like good sci-fi, so if you have a computer system that can handle a case of BioShock, you should consider getting it.

How Can an Archaeologist Resist This?

I just ran into an old post from American Papist that might make me a Traditionalist.

Comics Review: Chronicles of the Universe

Someone forgot to tell Espinosa that only Sigourney Weaver is allowed to fight aliens in her panties.

Chronicles Of The Universe, written and illustrated by Rod Espinosa. Antarctic Press (San Antonio): 2005. ISBN: 1-932453-87-3. $9.99.

Readers of this blog or Holy Heroes!! know I like to whine from time to time about how women are portrayed in comic books...and that I read comic books anyway. Readers of this blog also know I like to read and review most everything from Amerimanga writer/illustrator Rod Espinosa, who has a vast imagination, a good sense of fun, a sure hand with a pen, and female protagonists who are usually tough and likable, if virtually indistinguishable.

Previously, I reviewed Espinosa's Battle Girlz. Chronicles Of The Universe takes place in the same sprawling universe, a place called Jalto Shrept, where slimy aliens and traditional superheroes rub shoulders with magic-wielding elves and gun-toting vampires. Jalto Shrept is a canvas on which Espinosa can do what he does best, which is mix together a hodgepodge of sf and fantasy tropes into a massive stew that is always familiar yet always entertaining.

Chronicles of the Universe is a collection of short stories about a single family. It begins by introducing the thirteen Manowar brothers, the greatest heroes in the universe, who long ago defeated an evil overlord named Destructor. Now that Destructor is gone and only second-rate villains plague Jalto Shrept, the Manowars can settle down and raise families, only occasionally venturing out to topple a tyrant or rescue a distressed planet. The stories generally focus on the Manowars' children, who are following in their fathers' footsteps. The comic easily slides back and forth between battle sequences and scenes of domestic life, the juxtaposition of which lends the volume its greatest charm. Along with the good fun, Chronicles effectively conveys the sense that the Manowar Clan is degenerating and that the children lack the talent and character of their forebears. This lends the volume its greatest depth.

Some of the Manowar children, it's worth noting, grow up to be Battle Girlz, so Chronicles of the Universe gives us opportunity to see them at a younger age. The back of the book also contains some studies and sketches for an upcoming volume, Prince Of Heroes, slated for release this summer. This future book promises to follow a bastard son of one of the Manowars as he claims his birthright and gathers his declining family for a great battle. It also promises to bring back the Battle Girlz, and some of the images suggest Espinosa is planning to use them to make Prince of Heroes into a harem comic.

These three comics collections, Chronicles Of The Universe, Battle Girlz, and Prince Of Heroes, are an ambitious project; Espinosa is apparently chronicling a single powerful family over multiple generations as it grows increasing decadent, something like a superhero space opera Amerimanga version of Buddenbrooks. It will be interesting to see how this project turns out, or if Espinosa takes it beyond three volumes. The writing is uneven, and the panels are frequently cluttered, but the idea is good and the stories are always amusing if never exactly moving.

Now that I'm done with the review, it's time for the whining (I'll keep it short)! Honestly, does anyone think a miniskirt is a good outfit for battling an alien supertyrant? Why do the Manowar sons have an easier time keeping their clothes on than the Manowar daughters? Why are there full-page images in the back of girls in their underwear? And perhaps most importantly, do we really want to turn the rock-em sock-em Battle Girlz into a harem?

Why you shouldn't fight in a miniskirt.

The Sci Fi Catholic's Rating for Chronicles Of The Universe:

Myth Level: High (an interesting, sprawling universe, universal themes, battles, etc.)

Quality: Medium (uneven presentation, good times and good fun mixed with some flat storylines)

Ethics/Religion: Medium-High (action violence, generally family-friendly and good-natured with some fanservice [I'm getting sick of that word; Snuffles, can we find a synonym?])

House on Haunted Hill

As yet another excuse for putting up a fast blog post so I can run off and deal with some important and exciting projects, I refer you to The B-Movie Catechism, where EegahInc has given his thoughts on the film House on Haunted Hill for his monthly film club.

In discussing the failed marriage at the movie's center, EegahInc says something interesting:

Maybe the Lorens could have avoided all this heartache by popping over to YourFriendlyDivorce.com where they have 10 helpful hints to make sure your marriage ends nicely. They include insightful tips like #3 Seek common goals with your spouse, #4 Learn to see things from your spouse's perspective, and #5 Have a parenting plan. "Let's face it: divorce is painful." the website explains, "But with proper planning and a desire to reach agreement, you and your spouse can achieve harmony, fairness and mutual respect." (Look, if you can't make your own smart aleck remark here, you're just being lazy.) [more...]

Yeah, I can come up with one of those. How about this: Hey, if you can have harmony, fairness, and mutual respect in your divorce, couldn't you, um, have it in your marriage? I mean, really.

United 300

Okay, I'm not sure this should be allowed, and I'm sure someone will be offended, and I actually meant to write a review tonight instead, but when I saw this...well, I laughed. Let's put it that way. Nice production values, too, for a piece on YouTube. How do people make this stuff?

Movie Review: Juno

Wait a minute. Someone told me this had space aliens.

Juno, directed by Jason Reitman. Screenplay by Diablo Cody. Starring Ellen Page, Michael Cera, and Jennifer Garner. Dancing Elk Productions: 2007. Runtime 97 minutes. Rated PG-13. USCCB Rating is AIII--Adults.

See other reviews here.

The rest of the Catholic blogosphere has already swooned over this movie and moved on to better things, but here at The Sci Fi Catholic, we're proud to be always one step behind the pack. Critics are virtually unanimous in praising this movie, so in order to maintain my reputation as a cynical curmudgeon, I'd like to point you to the comments by dissenting critic David Edelstein (hat tip to Jeffrey Overstreet).

In case you don't know, the reason we Catholics are swooning is because Juno, besides being sassy and jam-packed with quotable bon mots, has a pro-life theme.

Story revolves around sixteen-year-old Juno MacGuff (Ellen Page), who discovers she's pregnant after a tryst with her passive wiener of a best friend, Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera), who plays the effeminate counterpart to Juno's tomboy personality. The story follows Juno as she takes it all in stride and prepares to give the baby away to a seemingly perfect couple (Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman), who as it turns out have serious problems of their own.

It is, as you have heard, a witty screenplay. It isn't exactly deep; there isn't a lot of philosophical subtext under the characters' sarcastic barbs, and Diablo Cody is not the return of Oscar Wilde. However, it's undeniable that this is one smart and funny script, even if it achieves its quirks largely through obscure pop culture references. But we at The Sci Fi Catholic can't condemn anyone for obscure pop culture references, so we're obligated to give the film a thumb up. We may hope that Cody will produce more substantial fare in the future. This is one Hollywood screenwriter I'd actually like to get paid.

The message, too, is generally positive: divorce is bad, abortion is bad, people who use terms like "intercourse" and "sexually active" are losers, married men who feel unready to have children are losers, and it's weird to put condoms on bananas. All these are beliefs that I as a Catholic can heartily support.

The film's major weakness, easy to overlook, is that it is a combination of a teen pregnancy story and a love story. Because the teen pregnancy story stays center-stage, the love story gets short shrift, so the film's climax comes out of left field. Similarly, several matters are thrown at the viewer purely for humor, but receive no development: early on, Juno delivers a monologue on how jocks really prefer geeky girls, and a couple of funny scenes deal with a cheerleader (Olivia Thirlby) who has a crush on a frumpy science teacher. Then there's the funny romantic argument between a couple of chem lab partners (Stephen Christopher Parker and Candice Accola). All of these are hilarious, but they have no real point. Other elements of the narrative, however, are developed in a believable manner with a solid, steady pace. I don't want to give away any details, but Jason Bateman's performance is particularly good. He and Ellen Page really crackle when they're on screen together.

Speaking of the love story, I was surprised, and maybe a little disappointed, at the film's conclusion (spoiler alert). About halfway through, I figured I knew where it was going. I assumed Juno and Bleeker would fall in love and keep the baby, and I was half right. I'm not going to complain, however, because I should consider it a good thing when movies don't follow the numbers exactly the way I expect them to.

Some Christians might complain about these protagonists who, having already had a baby, don't get married at the film's end, but Juno, who has watched marriages crumble around her, is naturally suspicious of the institution of marriage and says as much in a conversation with her father (J. K. Simmons), one of the film's more moving scenes. This is a story of young people who have to find their way among the debris of institutions their elders have destroyed, so some distrust of institutions should be expected. Besides, it was written by a stripper, so what do you want?

Speaking of distrusting institutions, our friend Christine at Catholic Media Review has a statement on the movie that deserves address:

Before I get into it, I have to ask: Did anyone else spot the 'no religion' sticker inside Juno's locker door in a school scene pretty early on? It was a cross with a red-circle around it, and a red line through it. It only showed for a couple seconds, but I considered it a negative subliminal message.

I think we're getting too sensitive. Actually, Christine is mistaken. The sticker does not say "No Religion" but "Bad Religion." It's the name of a rock band, the sort of rock band a character like Juno would probably listen to. Furthermore, the message is not "subliminal"; it's right in front of you. If it were subliminal, you wouldn't be able to see it. You also wouldn't need to worry about it because according to my Psych 101 class, subliminal messages don't work.*

The Sci Fi Catholic's Rating for Juno:

Myth Level: N/A

Quality: High (good production with great script and excellent performances)

Ethics/Religion: High (mature themes, sexual references, positive messages)

*At least that's what the aliens want us to think.

Filmography links and data courtesy of The Internet Movie Database.

Not Today

Sorry for the absence of posting these last couple of days; as for the review I mentioned yesterday, it's been delayed because it turns out we had to order some stuff, and might have to order more stuff. I'll try to give you a good post tomorrow, but I just spent the whole day editing something important, and so am in no shape for writing anything of substance now. I'll try to get you something worthwhile tomorrow.

A Tantalizing (?) Notice

No post today. Snuffles and I are preparing a joint review we hope you will find intriguing, if we can pull together the source material we need and make anything worthwhile out of it. Check in again tomorrow. HINT: It involves cities.

January Christian Science Fiction/Fantasy Blog Tour Day 3

This month's featured novel is Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet.

See the book's official website here.
See Jeffrey Overstreet's official blog here.

Well, yet another blog tour wraps up with The Sci Fi Catholic too lazy to post original content. Unless you've forgotten, the novel is Auralia's Colors, the author is Jeffrey Overstreet, and we've got nothing to say about it.

It looks like there's a ruckus on the blog tour, and the biggest surprise is, I didn't cause it. (I better review next month's book so I can get back my bad reputation.)

According to A Christian Worldview of Fiction, Overstreet has argued that Christians are suspicious of myth, fairy tales, and fantasy, and therefore will be unlikely to produce quality fantasy of their own in the near future. Rebecca Luella Miller, proprietor of Worldview, argues that Overstreet himself is evidence to the contrary and that Christians are comfortable with fantasy. Personally, I think both Miller and Overstreet are over-generalizing. If you look at the Harry Potter debate, I think you will find there is neither universal suspicion nor universal love of fantasy within Christianity, but rather a sharp divide between those who hate all of it unless it has Lewis's or Tolkien's name on it and those who love all of it regardless. Heck, that's why my blog is here, to argue with both sides, telling the one to chill out and the other to show more discernment.

Here's a nice quote from Dennis Okholm to contradict Miller's assertion that Christians are generally comfortable with myth: "By the time I got to seminary the list of prohibitions was complete: Christians should stay away from dance, drink, tobacco, and myth." You can find that on the back of Matthew Dickerson and David O'Hara's From Homer to Harry Potter, a book I still strongly recommend in spite of its deficiencies.

Dance, drink, tobacco, and myth. Why, that's a list of the things I most enjoy.

Also creating some controversy is Back to the Mountains, a blog with a fine title graphic, where Steve is arguing that the character in Auralia's Colors known as the Keeper is supposed to represent God even though Overstreet himself says otherwise (P.S., read this link because it has a lengthy quote from Overstreet criticizing Christian sf and fantasy). Now again, I haven't read the book, but I've also learned that a determined Christian reviewer can make anything into God or Jesus if he tries hard enough.

Oh, the controversy!

If you blog it, they will tour:

Brandon Barr
Jim Black
Justin Boyer
Grace Bridges
Jackie Castle
Carol Bruce Collett
Valerie Comer
CSFF Blog Tour
D. G. D. Davidson
Chris Deanne
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Marcus Goodyear
Andrea Graham
Jill Hart
Katie Hart
Timothy Hicks
Heather R. Hunt
Becca Johnson
Jason Joyner
Kait
Karen
Carol Keen
Mike Lynch
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Shannon McNear
Melissa Meeks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika or Mir's Here
Pamela Morrisson
Eve Nielsen
John W. Otte
John Ottinger
Deena Peterson
Rachelle
Steve Rice
Cheryl Russel
Ashley Rutherford
Hanna Sandvig
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Rachelle Sperling
Donna Swanson
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Laura Williams
Timothy Wise

January Christian Science Fiction/Fantasy Blog Tour Day 2

This month's featured novel is Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet.

See the book's official website here.
See Jeffrey Overstreet's official blog here.

Thanks to Snuffles for taking care of the blog tour for me yesterday. Snuffles, you're a lifesaver, but I'd appreciate it if you could stop with the casual insults.

Okay, so we're here to talk about Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet, a book I deeply regret not reading (though I didn't cry about it).

To see some good discussions and reviews, I particularly point you to the following places:

Quest Writer has a brief, jaunty review with a quotation. In particular, she points out the novel's elaborate descriptions. I like me some fiction with elaborate descriptions (Airborn, anyone?), so I'm warming up to this book already.

Inspirations Cafe says the novel is nostalgic and somewhat retro. He also has a cool-looking blog. Man, I seriously need to get me a new layout.

Grasping for the Wind has earned another link from us because of his interview with Jeffrey Overstreet. Is there anything his blog doesn't do? I've previously enjoyed Overstreet's good sense, thoughtfulness, and lack of reactionism when talking about movies. Check out this quote:

I grew up in a rather conservative community in which moviegoing was viewed as a suspicious, dangerous, “worldly” activity. But I also came to see that when we cut ourselves off from art for fear of “contamination,” we lose one of the greatest gifts humanity has to enjoy, something that helps us understand each other, something that humbles and inspires us.

If it weren't stealing, that would be The Sci Fi Catholic's new slogan.

In My Little World has a review with a lengthy quotations from the novel. She discusses the book's use of the third-person omniscient. I never knew that was such a controversial point of view to write from, but this is the second member of the Blog Tour I have seen mention it as a stumbling block. The only POV I loathe is the first person that switches narrators. That should be outlawed (you ruined your own book, Bram Stoker!), but I've never had a problem with third person.

One Man's Blog is Another Man's Tour:

Brandon Barr
Jim Black
Justin Boyer
Grace Bridges
Jackie Castle
Carol Bruce Collett
Valerie Comer
CSFF Blog Tour
D. G. D. Davidson
Chris Deanne
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Marcus Goodyear
Andrea Graham
Jill Hart
Katie Hart
Timothy Hicks
Heather R. Hunt
Becca Johnson
Jason Joyner
Kait
Karen
Carol Keen
Mike Lynch
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Shannon McNear
Melissa Meeks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika or Mir's Here
Pamela Morrisson
Eve Nielsen
John W. Otte
John Ottinger
Deena Peterson
Rachelle
Steve Rice
Cheryl Russel
Ashley Rutherford
Hanna Sandvig
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Rachelle Sperling
Donna Swanson
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Laura Williams
Timothy Wise

January Christian Science Fiction/Fantasy Blog Tour Day 1

This month's featured novel is Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet.

See the book's official website here.
See Jeffrey Overstreet's official blog here.

So anyway, the Deej is in the field doing his archaeological thing, or as Frederick the Unicorn puts it, "indulging in drunkeness, dissipation, and skulduggery." In other words, he's out having fun while the rest of us are cooped up in this apartment.

Deej said he really, really wanted to read this novel, but didn't. Whiner and sissy that he is, he even cried about it. But because he didn't read the book, he's off digging a hole somewhere, presumably so he can bury his head in shame. That means I get to talk about Auralia's Colors, though I haven't read it either. Maybe next month we'll actually review the featured novel, huh?
Here's what we know. It's first in a series called The Auralia Thread. It's fantasy, so I'm guessing the series will be a trilogy. The protagonist is found in the woods by thieves and grows up into a young woman who can weave beautifully colored cloth. Meanwhile, an evil king has outlawed all color except that which he personally distributes (I can't imagine how he could pull that off, but it's an interesting idea and reminds me vaguely of The Giver).

For a good review, I suggest you check the blog Grasping for the Wind. He says:

The novel focuses on the emotions and reactions of the characters not description of the events that occur. I felt that the narrative was thinly woven together and that I didn’t really know what was going on throughout the story. It made the narrative seem broken and disjointed, as most the action was seen only through a veil of thick emotion, making it harder to understand what was going on. [more...]

Well heck, I read shōjo manga; if there's one thing I can handle, it's a veil of thick emotion. Maybe I should give Overstreet's novel a try.

Don't neglect the other blog tour members:

Brandon Barr
Jim Black
Justin Boyer
Grace Bridges
Jackie Castle
Carol Bruce Collett
Valerie Comer
CSFF Blog Tour
D. G. D. Davidson
Chris Deanne
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Marcus Goodyear
Andrea Graham
Jill Hart
Katie Hart
Timothy Hicks
Heather R. Hunt
Becca Johnson
Jason Joyner
Kait
Karen
Carol Keen
Mike Lynch
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Shannon McNear
Melissa Meeks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika or Mir's Here
Pamela Morrisson
Eve Nielsen
John W. Otte
John Ottinger
Deena Peterson
Rachelle
Steve Rice
Cheryl Russel
Ashley Rutherford
Hanna Sandvig
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Rachelle Sperling
Donna Swanson
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Laura Williams
Timothy Wise

B-Movie Catechist's Monthly Film Club: House on Haunted Hill

Oh, so it is just Old Man Smithers in a ghost costume.

House on Haunted Hill, directed by William Castle. Screenplay by Robb White. Starring Vincent Price, Carolyn Craig, and Richard Long. William Castle Productions, 1958. Not Rated.

Read other reviews here.

Watch it on Google Video.

This homework is overdue. Apologies to all concerned. What if I claim my dragon ate it?

It really is entertaining...as long as you don't think too hard. This month, the B-Movie Catechist has let the Film Club off easy with a low-budget classic starring Vincent Price as the possibly psychopathic millionaire Frederick Loren, who offers to give ten thousand dollars to five strangers--if they can survive a night in the House on Haunted Hill.

The characters are familiar and underdeveloped but comfortable B-movie types. Vincent Price is cold and sinister as Loren, yet he humanizes the role with numerous shows of emotion. His mutually nasty dialogue with his wife Annabelle (Carol Ohmart) nicely sets up the mood for the film and makes a fine example of tight scripting. Other characters include an alcoholic (Elisha Cook) convinced everyone will die at the hands of the house's ghosts, a gambling newspaper columnist (Julia Mitchum), and the obligatory attractive young woman (Carolyn Craig) and hunky young man (Richard Long). Rather than doing the obvious, sensible thing and sitting together in the living room, drinking and telling ghost stories, these various characters wander the house alone with loaded firearms and get themselves in trouble either through ineptitude or their own twisted, conniving plots, which backfire.

The movie makes a number of forgivable mistakes. Central to the film is an elaborate attempt to commit a "perfect murder," but this murderous scheme has so many holes in it, it would be remarkable if it did work. Additionally, the movie sets up certain things but doesn't follow through: for example, a character is "marked" for death by the ghosts early in the film, but this never amounts to anything. Furthermore, the film's ending is hokey in the extreme and entirely unbelievable, yet emotionally powerful nonetheless.

The movie's greatest sin, and the focus of this discussion, is a conceit of poorly written horror, one I've encountered numerous times: inexplicable events occur, yet at the end of the story, we are expected to believe that it was all just a trick and that the ghosts were fake, even though they could levitate, travel through locked doors, and make objects move on their own. Several inexplicable events occur in House on Haunted Hill, but we get only a weak naturalistic explanation at the movie's conclusion.

A good example of this sort of thing is Under the Ocean to the South Pole, Book 2 of the acclaimed Great Marvel series, a set of adventure books for boys considered classics and collectibles. In this novel, the indistinguishable Caucasian heroes Mark and Jack decide to travel to the south pole in a submarine with their Kindly Old Professor. During the course of the journey, Our Heroes encounter a ghost haunting the submarine. The ghost, we are told, is transparent and headless, but at the end of the novel, we learn the ghost was really just one of the crew members sleep-walking in his nightshirt. How many people do you know who sleep-walk transparent and headless?

Now, I grant that it's possible to do a lot of sneaky things with smoke and mirrors. Heck, David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear while simultaneously making himself appear charismatic and sexy. That's no mean feat. And let's not forget that freaky Bermuda Triangle special of his, which still gives me nightmares. But he's a special case; most people are not David Copperfield and can't pull of the things he pulls off. The brainless connivers in House on Haunted Hill certainly couldn't.

Like House on Haunted Hill, the world is full of strange happenings. Some of them certainly deserve naturalistic explanations: the last "true" ghost story I heard, for example, clearly involved a clanky furnace rather than a restless spirit. Other events are more difficult to explain: the 1995 phenomenon of Hindu statues drinking milk, for example, at first appears miraculous. This particular event has produced a small cottage industry of atheist debunking, and I admit that, though I was previously inclined to a supernatural explanation, the naturalistic ones make more sense the more I read about them.

Catholics are used to stories of miracles and visions and similar supernatural events. Some of these are folklore, some are medical phenomena with no known explanation, some are witnessed miracles, some are visions, and some are all in people's heads. The Church examines many claims of miracles and visions; when unable to determine they are hoaxes or doctrinally objectionable, she labels them "worthy of belief," which means the faithful can take them or leave them, but are not obligated to believe in them.

St. Louis de Montfort, in his The Secret of the Rosary, a collection of stories about the rosary, recommends that Christians approach pious legends with belief unless there's a good reason to do otherwise. Admittedly, my first approach to such stories is usually skepticism, especially when a tale is presented without names or dates. In the case of St. Louis de Montfort's book, I sometimes find the stories doctrinally questionable as well: in one of them, a bad king is allowed into Heaven because of his habit of wearing a rosary on his belt. To my mind, this should have won him the added charge of hypocrisy rather than a full pardon. Catholics should understand that medals, rosaries, and other sacramentals are useless unless the faithful strive to live up to what those trinkets represent: I have a Brown Scapular, a St. Benedict's Crucifix, a Miraculous Medal, and a blessed rosary on my person as I write this, but I understand these are worthless if I do not live the Gospel.

Similar thinking can be applied to those miracles and private revelations the Church considers worthy of belief. They are helpful to the faithful unless they become a hindrance or an obsession, at which point they can be safely discarded or minimized. I have at home a booklet (I'm not at home, so cannot make a proper citation) by a woman who claims to have had a private revelation from Jesus and the Virgin Mary while attending Mass. The content is essentially a commentary on the Mass describing the liturgy's supernatural benefits and inviting prayers and full participation from the faithful. Though I of course have no way of verifying the genuineness of the revelation, it is in tune with Catholic teaching, and I find it useful, so I give to it the form of natural (as opposed to supernatural), human faith appropriate for such things.

In addition to revelations with useful insights or inspiring messages, there are miracles which defy naturalistic explanation, including some Eucharistic and medical miracles. These too, unless satisfactorily debunked, deserve belief and can be helpful to the faithful. In many cases, miracle is a better explanation than Old Man Smithers in a ghost costume.

As an added note, sf writer John C. Wright, who converted to Christianity after a series of visions, once commented that his experiences are no help in times of doubt. It strikes me as likely that private revelations are ultimately of more use to the people who don't receive them than the people who do.

The Sci Fi Catholic's Rating for House on Haunted Hill:

Myth Level: Medium-Low (just, you know, not really)

Quality: Medium (some uneven scripting but a lot of fun)

Ethics/Religion: Medium-High (little objectionable; some revenge depicted positively, depending on how you want to look at it)

A Catholic on Anime

I just discovered an interesting essay on anime by a Catholic, "Anime for Catholics" over at the blog Moment of Reflection.

Some of what he says is interesting, and potentially arguable.

It is at this point that I would like to speak to Catholic men about anime. Be careful guys, Japanese thought and culture has a very different perspective on nudity than we do in the west, and even more so than what the Church teaches. Purity and chastity is something that is not easily come by in this day and age, I struggled with it myself for a long time.

Five years ago I had a massive conversion that saw the start on the path towards those two ideals, four years ago I discovered a proven and reliable method which has kept me pure and chaste ever since. [more...]

I don't pretend to have a good overview of Japanese thought and culture under my belt, nor do I believe I could get one from watching anime. As for nudity and sex in Japanese comics and cartoons, it isn't any worse than what you can find in American novels and film, though I say that based mainly on secondary sources; the anime and manga I gravitate toward is generally pretty tame, and I usually avoid the ones with "mature content" advisories. Though I don't appreciate gratuitous or gross content, I have to admit, you can see more naked artwork on a pilgrimage to Rome than you can see in a lot of anime. The usual discretion is necessary.

Still in the Field

Guess my age in this picture!

Sorry, I'm still out here doing what I do. And it is cold. You'd think it was winter or something. We'll have some fresh content for you soon. In the meanwhile, I have learned I have the ability to alter my age at will. Or by changing the ambient light. Or something.

Snuffles, you are the laziest dragon on Mars! Why aren't you managing the blog while I'm out?

Totally Random Stuff that Has No Place on This Blog

I haven't mentioned it, but I'm actually in the field and will be until next Thursday. But that doesn't mean I have nothing to talk about. No way.

This may embarrass all of you, but I'm able to see what it is that brings readers to this site. Frequently, they get here from Google searches. Searches for "scificatholic," "sci-fi catholic," and "sci fi catholic" often bring readers here (um, hello, the blog is actually http://www.scificatholic.com/, so you don't really need to search, do you?). I have found people also arrive by doing image searches for Bone comic book covers, which I find bemusing, since I'm pretty sure I haven't displayed any (I like to be more casual and subtle when I violate copyrights). Naturally, people also get here by looking for reviews, especially Christian reviews, of certain books or movies. Al Capone Does My Shirts is popular, though the big essay on Bone remains the number one draw.

But once, just once, someone got to this blog by searching for "naked men pictures." Believe me, I'm as confused as you are (but not nearly as confused as that guy). Even if a search for "naked men pictures" brings up a link to The Sci Fi Catholic, which is weird enough, why would anyone click on it? I picture some dude on his computer, muttering to himself, "Man, I gotta see me some o' them naked men pictures! Oh hey look, Catholic book reviews...well, I guess I can do that instead." This may be the first time in the history of the human race that religion has distracted from sex rather than the other way around.

Though I don't know why any past searches for "naked men pictures" would bring up this blog, I am, as you can tell from this post, determined that any future searches for "naked men pictures" will bring up this blog. Naked men pictures. I mean seriously, naked men pictures.

P.S. You will notice that the image at the top of this post does not fall into the category of naked men pictures. The man in the image is fully clothed, so don't write in with complaints. There are no naked men pictures on this site, except maybe for the image adorning my discussion of Thomas Moore's "The Loves of the Angels," which is still my favorite poem, but that doesn't count because that's serious art, so it too fails to qualify for the "naked men pictures" category. Besides, those are clearly naked angels.

(And in case you're wondering, that's actually me, that's actually my bookcase, and that's actually my custom-made Indiana Jones jacket.)

Blog: Got Medieval

I've been much enjoying the blog Got Medieval over the last few days. Yesterday, I mentioned the review of Beowulf on that site, and I've since then been enjoying numerous other, similarly funny posts. Also related to the Beowulf are a snidely funny post making fun of Neil Gaiman and a post entitled "Breastowulf" that speaks for itself.

Also worth reading is the funny dismantling of Kingdom of Heaven, which takes apart the film's inept writing and inept history while repeatedly referring to Orlando Bloom's unusual hotness. Then there's the article making fun of the use of Latin in Harry Potter. More serious is an article on some debunked Joan of Arc relics. Also see his article on the art of "Wikigroaning," a term I hope to see in the dictionary within ten years.

But the best part of the site is the Medieval on-line dating ads listed in the sidebar to the left. My favorite is from st_wannabe: "Fill in the blanks: Converting to Christianity is sexy. Forcing my husband to convert so that we may enjoy holy celibacy is sexier."

Dang, that is kinda sexy.

Beowulf the Movie (review Christian) ReCAPped

The last time I typed "movie review Beowulf Christian" into Google, the first thing that came up was the review of Beowulf and Grendel at Catholic News Service and the second thing that came up was the review of Beowulf at The Sci Fi Catholic (I don't know whether to be pleased or frightened). Further down the page was the review of Beowulf at CAP (Childcare Action Project) Movie Ministry. Since I'm on the Internet mainly to pick fights with this sort of people, and since a Google search with a very specific word order says I'm Better Than Them, I figure now is the time to strike.

First, I will reiterate that Beowulf is a film lacking in good taste and containing foolish criticisms of religion. Besides my own review, I recommend the hilarious dismantling of the movie at Got Medieval. For a more cool-headed explanation of why taking cheap shots at religion in a movie about Beowulf is a bad idea, check the review at Filmcritic.com.

But I'm not here to criticize Beowulf. I've already done that. Let's take a look instead at everything wrong with CAP's analysis.

First of all, we have the website's slogan, "Stay informed...OBJECTIVELY...on what Hollywood feeds your kids." Already several questions appear in our minds. What's with those ellipses? Why is objectively in capital letters? Why is feeds your kids in italics and bold? Besides that, we may ask how exactly Hollywood can feed your kids anything without your knowledge and consent. If you're kicking the kiddies out the door to see a movie without knowing what the movie is first, that's your fault.

But then we have to ask the question, why is objectively in the slogan in the first place? The answer is on CAP's site, and you can find it here. Essentially, their movie reviewers watch movies, jot down content they find objectionable, and then fill out a form, the contents of which are processed statistically (how or to what purpose, I have been unable to discover). Somehow, the filling out of a form is supposed to remove subjectivity from the moral evaluation of a movie's content, even though the form itself is an arbitrary human creation.

The fallacy of the CAP system is easily visible in the Beowulf review. Besides the (presumably subjective) review itself, the list of "objective" objectionable content appears in a sidebar on the right. The first problem with this list of "objective" criteria is that it is entirely negative. There is a listing for "Impudence/Hate (I)" and one for "Wanton Violence/Crime (W)," but no space for, say, "Positive Moral Messages (P)" or "Selfless Acts (S)" or "Loving Characters (L)." CAP is uninterested in finding anything positive in movies and is apparently proud of it.

CAP's system of rating movies is admittedly clever, but it leaves out one important thing, key to Christian morality, and that is intent. I can't imagine how CAP could possibly produce a form listing every conceivable potentially objectionable scene in a film, but even if it can, it cannot take into account how that content is used. I can sit here and condemn every man who has ever stuck a blade into another man, but if I do, I condemn surgeons as well as ax-murderers. In evaluating movies, this means taking into account not only the "objective" content, but the way it is presented and the reason it is presented, something we are ultimately unable to perfectly evaluate. The underlying message of a film is more important than its "objective" content.

Listed beside the review under "Offense to God (O)" is "exchanging soul for power and riches," something the character of Beowulf does indeed do in the film. Here we see CAP's great error, divorcing content from context: it fails to evaluate how this exchanging of the soul is used. Beowulf's selling of his soul is depicted negatively, and he pays the price for it. This is a positive message, but CAP, "objective" as it is, is unable to take this into account.

I sincerely wish the people who do this sort of thing would think first. Is any story containing the selling of a soul automatically negative? Then we must condemn Doctor Faustus, Tannhauser, and The Scarlet Letter as well as Beowulf. Are we really willing to take that step? Are we really willing to condemn all stories that say emphatically that there are more important things than power, riches, and earthly joys just because they inevitably depict characters who revel in power, riches, and earthly joys, and in many cases pay the final price for their foolish dissipation? If we are willing to take that step, how many stories in Scripture will survive our scalpels? Indeed, how many stories is it even possible to tell without moral offense if we rigorously abide by the ironclad rules of CAP's "objective" criteria? Probably none.

Beowulf contains much that is objectionable, but what is most certainly not objectionable from any sane, thoughtful, and subjective Christian standpoint is the basic story of a shallow braggart who seizes wealth instead of goodness and ultimately pays for it. This is the tale of Dives; Jesus spoke of him. The basic moral of Beowulf is good: only the trappings are obnoxious.

So intent and context are supremely important. Had Beowulf told the story of a man who sells his soul and receives redemption without repentance, as Goethe does, we might say the depiction of a man selling his soul is immoral, but that is not the story Beowulf tells. When watching a movie, put down the fill-in-the-blank form and use your head.

Finally, I should point out that CAP's actual review is frankly weird. Get a load of this:

I have read lots of poems but never have I seen nudity in a poem. Even the nudity in some Bibles was not there when the inspired pen was put to paper; man put nudity in the Bible, not God. That some church approved nakedness in the Bible does not make it acceptable to God.

I am a science fiction reader, but those are easily the strangest three sentences I have read for many months. Weird, man. Weird.

News from the Fish Bowl

MONA LISA IDENTIFIED

A newly discovered scribble in a manuscript positively identifies the subject of Leonardo Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" as Lisa Gherardini, not Leonardo in drag, according to Reuters. Sorry, conspiracy theorists; you'll have to go back to talking about how the Great Pyramid is a nuclear reactor. That was more entertaining anyway.

SPIDER-MAN IS SINGLE AGAIN

Marvel Comics, for its own convenience, has found an excuse to revert Spider-Man to a single man. Could Doug Camilli report this without using the word "annulment," please?

MYTHIC CREATURES EXHIBIT AT CHICAGO FIELD MUSEUM

The Chicago Field Museum has kindly contacted us to announce its "Mythic Creatures: Dragons, Unicorns, and Mermaids" exhibit, which will run from March 21 to September 1, 2008. The display will be about the origins of various mythical creatures and their development through time. If any of our readers are in the area, set aside some time to check it out.

Manga Review: Maison Ikkoku

I can't believe I read the whole thing.

Maison Ikkoku, written and illustrated by Rumiko Takahashi. Fifteen volumes (second edition). Translated by Gerard Jones and Matt Thorn. Viz Media (2003-2006). $9.95 each.

...These rents are the same kind you might still find today around many universities--although in Tokyo you would probably pay at least a third more.... All of these units demand two months' rent for shikkin, but that's fair enough.... But the second number is the disgusting practice of reikin, the so-called "remuneration" which is basically a bribe--or obligatory gift if you like--given to your landlord for the privilege of being allowed to pay rent to live there!... Nor is there any guarantee your landlord will look like Kyoko Otonashi.

--Carl Gustav Horn, editor's notes to Oh My Goddess! Volume 1, p. 190

I have to make a full confession. While I was dusting the apartment the other day, I spotted a book that had fallen from a shelf in Snuffles's room. I picked it up and happened to notice the synopsis on the back. Thinking it looked interesting, I opened it, and, well, one thing led to another. Snuffles barged in an hour later and found me sitting on the floor eagerly reading through a stack of his manga. He called a family meeting, and Frederick, Phenny, and Lucky agreed that, as punishment, I should read an entire manga series and review it. Snuffles gave me a list of titles he thought I'd find embarrassing; I chose Maison Ikkoku. (He really wanted me to review Fushigi Yûgi or Boys Over Flowers, but there's no way that's gonna happen.) I feel like a fish out of water here, but Snuffles has been gracious enough to lend me some resources and advice.

Although I usually let Snuffles handle the manga and anime, I have passing knowledge of some of Takahashi's other work. Some months ago, Snuffles convinced me to read a few volumes of Ranma 1/2. The first volume is nearly perfect as a romantic action comedy; the proceeding volumes I couldn't stand. When trespassing in Snuffles's room, the book I picked up happened to be volume 4 of InuYasha. Maison Ikkoku is a break from these other works: set in Japan in the 1980s, it has no fantasy elements or action sequences. It is a romantic comedy about an indecisive slacker college student, Yusaku, who falls instantly in love with the young widow, Kyoko, who becomes the new manager of his run-down boarding house. Yusaku struggles to get through school while skipping as many classes as possible, trying to woo his manager, and dealing with his several nosy, eccentric, alcoholic housemates. For her part, Kyoko, for reasons known only to Takahashi, feels affection for Yusaku's but remains unwilling to reveal it because she is still working through the emotional aftermath of her late husband's death. She shows this by simultaneously repelling Yusaku's advances and by getting violently jealous of any rivals. In that, she's a typical Takahashi heroine.

Filling fifteen volumes and stretching longer than some epics, Maison Ikkoku covers six years, during which Yusaku progresses through school and into real life, gradually developing from an immature, wishy-washy boy into a mature, slightly less wishy-washy man, all the while having a roller-coaster relationship with Kyoko, who is dating another man but is nonetheless jealous of all Yusaku's female friends. Naturally, to keep the comedy going, Kyoko frequently finds Yusaku in compromising situations, only some of which are of his making.

According to some Internet sources, Takahashi originally planned this series to be open-ended, perpetuated by constant introductions of characters and subplots that would move the focus away from Yusaku's infatuation with Kyoko, but was convinced by responses to the series to retool it as a romance. This shows in the first several chapters: Yusaku's love for Kyoko is instantaneous, her confused response almost as fast, too fast to be the setup for a series that spans 15 volumes. But by the end of the first volume, it is apparent that Takahashi intends to slow things down as she develops the characters and introduces complications, particularly in the form of rivals: Yusaku begins dating the sweet, naïve, and unintentionally manipulative Kozue while Kyoko begins seeing the handsome, wealthy, and extremely pushy tennis coach Mitaka.

In volume 5, the story begins to drag. Several of the chapters are extraneous if humorous romps, especially the "Lost Chapter" at the end of volume 6, which implausibly features the entire Maison Ikkoku gang stranded on a desert island. Fortunately, the chapters are still reasonably entertaining and some gradual development does take place. Things heat up again in volume 7, grow almost unbearably angst-ridden in the first half of volume 8, and remain intense right up through volume 14, immediately after which, as I'll explain shortly, the story resolves and then drags on through volume 15 where it reaches an overlong yet satisfactory conclusion.

In my encounters with Ranma 1/2 and InuYasha, I suspected Takahashi had more skill than she was letting on. Ranma 1/2 is too focused on silliness, InuYasha on violence, to really show what she's capable of. In Maison Ikkoku, however, she delivers the full brunt. I cannot recall any other books over which I have laughed out loud or cried out loud so frequently. Once, I had to drop the book because I was laughing so hard I couldn't read. Another time, I had to drop the book because I was sobbing so hard I couldn't read. Takahashi's artistic skill is marginal; she tends to overuse certain formulas; her work features frequent low humor and fanservice; yet for all that, or because of it, Rumiko Takahashi has an almost freakish ability to convey powerful emotion. By the middle of volume 8, my nerves were frazzled and remained so until the end. I haven't recovered from reading this series and don't expect to for a few days. It is, simply put, the second-best love story I have ever read (Bone is still number 1 and I'm not budging).

Six years and fifteen volumes may sound like a lot of time and space for one simple love story. Indeed, manga have a tendency to take one-shot ideas and stretch them out into never-ending sagas. This may not be entirely the creators' fault: according to Frederick L. Schodt in Dreamland Japan, publishers often push creators to keep popular stories going long after the quality has dropped. However, though Maison Ikkoku could probably shed several early chapters and a few sections at the end without detriment, I will not complain about its length.

To understand why, compare it to the movie Titanic. While watching films like Titanic, I tend to sympathize with the wrong characters: sure, the stereotypical evil fiancé is a creep, but he's not as bad as his betrothed, who has sex in a car with some guy she just met the day before. So when Evil Fiancé is chasing his bride-to-be with a gun, I find myself hoping he puts her in the ground. The problem with Titanic is that it isn't really a romance but a fling, and it's sad that the filmmakers can't tell the difference. Anybody with a lick of sense knows that if the ship had made it to port, that charcoal-sketching bastard would have gone on to the next town and the next girl. Maison Ikkoku may be too long for a love story, but at least it isn't too short: the characters have plenty of time to get to know each other, to become better people, and to have conflicts beyond counting before the story draws to a close. Besides, if it were much shorter, it probably wouldn't be able to produce that delectable agony in the reader, as I described above.

You can probably guess how Maison Ikkoku ends, but for courtesy's sake, I must insert a spoiler alert before I continue.

Maison Ikkoku offers some mixed messages. Although the story indulges in frequent lowbrow humor, most of those messages are good. Early on, Yusaku's college buddies offer him some stupid advice of the sort I've heard from real college students, encouraging him to take advantage of his girlfriend Kozue: "Your manager's an older woman. She's got experience. If you don't get in some practice beforehand, she'll think you're a total geek" (vol. 4, p. 124). The next couple of panels skewer this: in Yusaku's imagination, he sees himself grasping Kozue and saying, "Yes, my dear, I need some prac--er, I mean--'I love you.'" Later, when Yusaku is a student teacher at an all-girls' high school, one of his students tries to seduce him and he shouts at her, "Dammit, Yagami! You should be saving yourself for marriage!" (vol. 9, p. 102). Near the end, when Mitaka finds he has put a young woman in a compromising situation, he does the manly thing and marries her (vol. 14, p. 13). The series on the whole appears to have a positive and serious view of marriage.

Yet after all that, the story climaxes with a premarital sex scene (vol 15, pp. 40-44). The story makes an issue of the virginity of a number of female characters and at the same time makes an issue of Kyoko's widowhood. After all that, the sex scene suggests that, though other women in the story must be treated honorably, Kyoko is somehow unworthy of such respect because she isn't a virgin, a most unfortunate and dismal message, however unintentional it may be.

I could pull out a lengthy Catholic definition of chastity and all its implications, but I'm disinclined at the moment. Discussing today's literature and film inevitably means frequently discussing sex, so the topic grows tiresome. Rather than addressing the scene from a moral angle, I prefer to address it from an artistic one. A love story, to be effective, must manipulate the reader's emotions; a good love story ratchets up the emotional intensity with a steady pace until the audience feels ready to explode, something Maison Ikkoku does with unusual virtuosity. The love story inevitably builds to either a death or a marriage, which releases this emotional tension. At this point, the story must end as swiftly as possible because its hold over the audience is gone.

Although there may be cause for sex scenes in a romantic tragedy, which builds to death, a romantic comedy is different because it builds to marriage. Inserting a sex scene into a romantic comedy disrupts the tension and dissipates it prematurely. If you doubt, consider whether a sex scene or a marriage ceremony is more intense. After sex, the wedding can only be anticlimactic.

To understand how this works, think of horror films. The Shining gradually builds tension, increasing it at a steady pace, resisting the temptation to jump out at the viewer until the climax. For that reason, it is an extremely frightening film. Compare that to something like Candyman. That film has so many jump scenes, the initial tension is quickly gone and the viewer can potentially feel relaxed by the time the actual villain shows up. Romances, like horror, must build tension, though of a different kind. It amazes me how many writers mess this up when they don't have to.

Furthermore, though Maison Ikkoku spends a lot of time maturing Yusaku into an adult, when he spends most of volume 15 waffling about proposing to Kyoko after he has slept with her, he appears to be a cad, especially since we have watched Mitaka dutifully marry a woman because he might have slept with her while drunk. Maison Ikkoku is much too powerful to be wrecked by this, but it, like its characters, is cheapened and compromised.

But enough of that. Maison Ikkoku, though its scenarios are frequently over-the-top, is nonetheless adept at displaying relationships between believable, flawed people, and for that reason has many good things to say about romantic love. Yusaku is not a perfect man by any stretch, but neither is Kyoko an ideal woman. Though their chemistry is definite and palpable, it's often hard to figure out what they see in each other. In the early chapters, Yusaku's behavior is of the sort more likely to win a restraining order than a woman's heart, and even by the end he hasn't completely overcome his penchant for delay and indecision. For her part, Kyoko is frequently angry and chilly and shows almost nothing that can be called affection. Are they destined for each other--or do they deserve each other? Perhaps Yusaku himself states it best in one of the story's most powerful lines: "The woman I love burns with jealousy, leaps to conclusions, cries, and turns to ice, but when she laughs, the world is mine" (vol. 15, p. 22).

So be it. Amen.

The Sci Fi Catholic's Rating for Maison Ikkoku:

Myth Level: N/A (different from the material we usually handle here; contains an excellent love story with universal themes)

Quality: Medium-High (marginal art, some sagging in the middle, effective humor, powerful telling, highly emotional)

Ethics/Religion: Medium-Low (mixed messages I find confusing, occasional nudity, frequent fanservice, sexual humor, one non-graphic premarital sex scene)