escapedreplicant

[escapedreplicant]

Taming the Monster

On Anxiety and the management of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

One of the most common methods of managing OCD, as well as depression and anxiety, is via Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT). On each of the occasions I have been referred to a psychologist for treatment the therapy has had some basis in CBT. The therapy is a talking-based initiative which focuses on the thoughts, feelings, actions and physical sensations and how those items are connected and how negative thoughts attached to those items result in an individual becoming trapped.

The CBT looks at the problems an individual experiences and breaks those down into, what should be, more manageable sizes which are not as overwhelming or terrifying. It is about changing the nature of the patterns of your behaviour to improve your mood. The aim is to tackle those negative patterns and move to a more positive frame of mind. Now, although CBT is a talking therapy you must immediately dismiss from your mind the image of lying on a long couch and recanting tales from your childhood and from where and when you suspect your issues originate. The focus of CBT is on your current problems and how to manage those issues in a practical manner to ensure you can make it through the day; not hammering away at your past.

The first time I was referred for such therapy was in 2008 and when the process was explained to me I will not lie; I was taken aback. My initial thoughts on therapy was that there would be discussion about my childhood, adolescence and the ascent into adulthood and that, via this dialogue, I would reach some form of enlightenment and my issues would be addressed and I would move beyond them and their impact on my life. Wrong. This was when I first encountered the realisation that a mental health issue is a chronic issue and there is no cure, magic elixir or otherwise.

Now, there are some people who may visit a psychiatrist and undertake discussion of their past as part of their therapy for some mental health issues, but CBT generally does not form part of this type of therapy. Some people who undertake a course of CBT may also improve so dramatically as to minimise the effects a toxic state of mind can have on their person. This may, in effect, feel like a 'cure' of some type but given the nature of mental health issues, in my own experience and what I have been advised by professionals, they are chronic problems and as such can reoccur at any point. Also; if you are employing coping strategies from CBT every day then could it really be considered a 'cure' if the process is still being used? If we liken the use of something such as CBT to taking medication then I would say, no.

When I first described the nature of my OCD to the therapist I saw they suggested breaking down the thoughts I experienced and the emotions which were generated. For me, this was not particularly easy. My mind hammers along at, what feels like, an unrelenting pace, and I have often moved into corresponding ritualistic physical acts; turning lights on and off, opening and closing doors, checking taps are off by turning them so tightly they could snap off and so on, before I am able to apply any sort of process to review the initial thought. Whatever I was doing at the time an unwanted thought entered my mind (such as a family member being hurt or a fear of losing my job or developing a serious illness) whether I was dressing, shaving, putting on a DVD I would end up repeating the act multiple times in order to alleviate the feeling of dread and anxiety which accompanied the image.

Forcing myself to stop when I experienced that twinge of anxiety at the back of my neck and the dread filled the pit of my stomach and my adrenaline spiked and I could taste the bittersweet sensation in my throat was incredibly difficult. It was the ultimate exercise in restraint as my attempts to stop only heightened the sense of dread as I was trying to break the ritual acts down, which felt like a betrayal, as I have mentioned in a previous post. Much like any skill which is learned it requires persistence by an individual in order to sharpen the skill. This was another somber realisation as patience has never been one of my virtues. There are also occasions I have not given my all to a course of action believing I could coast through with minimal effort.

I could not allow, nor could I afford, this to become one of those occasions as the process was a course of action which could possibly improve the quality of my life. This is a fact. Living with such extreme dread and anxiety and being unable to pick up and read a book, watch a film, go out and interact with people left me sitting in a chair staring into space for prolonged periods when at my very lowest. Such was the fear of making contact with a surface should a negative or unwanted thought arise. This is to say nothing of the rituals which had been built over years of repetition in regards to how I ate some food items or consumed beverages or washed my hands when in a public place, which had raised more than a few eyebrows. I had to embed this process within my mind to allow me to go on living.

The reason I placed so much emphasis on the CBT to manage my condition was because the medication I had been prescribed in 2008 left me numb and unable to concentrate. At that time I did not think medication was going to be of any assistance as it left me foggy and lethargic. After several sessions I was able to embed some form of process to my thinking when I reached periods of heightened anxiety to the point where I was able to function more effectively, though I was far from what could be considered improved and a lot of my actions still raised eyebrows as they appeared odd and illogical. I was made redundant in 2009 and the CBT proved to be useful in helping me deal with the resulting anxiety and stress of looking for a new job and, luckily, I was not out of work for any prolonged period. Even though I changed jobs a couple of times over the next couple of years I felt more capable in dealing with the situation. I also lost the two people I was probably closest to in my grandmother and grandfather over the same period.

Whilst I was managing the dread and concern which I experienced I always felt the bite at the back of the neck as though the monster was just looking for a way to resurface and in 2015 I was stricken with another period of severe anxiety. There had been a continued increase on the strain I was experiencing from the middle of 2014 onward and it felt as though the coping mechanisms in place were not as secure as they had been previously. I could feel myself slipping back into previous ritualistic obsessive acts such was my determination to repeat such ritual behaviours which made me feel comfortable. After struggling through Christmas and new year and even applying for a new job and successfully navigating the process I was hit like a freight train in the April and had difficulty completing even the most basic of actions. Getting showered and dressed became time-consuming exercises, shaving was out of the question given my efforts to repeat the same motion and always having an obsession with numbers it made even getting out of bed difficult as I would only get out of bed at times I believed felt 'correct' to me.

Following the collapse I experienced in 2008 I did not expect to be hit even harder after therapy and employing coping mechanisms. On this occasion I thought it would be prudent to try medication again as well as using the CBT to combat the anxiety. In addition to using meditation and CBT I started a course of a drug called Sertraline. This seemed to make a difference and I felt as though it had curbed my anxiety and I did not feel as frantic as I had on occasion. Combined with the CBT I felt as though I was more capable of dealing with situations which caused a spike in any anxiety I experienced. I muddled through if I'm honest though. I felt less creative and as though I had been subdued in some manner. I was still able to think clearly and felt as though I was contributing but I was at a remove from the world or at least it felt like that.

This malaise, if I can call it that, lasted until the end of 2016 when I noted that I had become quite badly out of shape and far larger than I remembered being at any point in my life. It is strange what events provide clarity. I developed a bad flu and having Asthma the responsible thing to do is to visit the doctor and I was prescribed antibiotics. While I was there I mentioned about trying something else for my anxiety and I was prescribed Fluoxetine. I was in a sort of feverish state during my GP visit and I can't remember whether I had thought specifically about asking for another medication for the anxiety or if it just occurred. When the flu had passed in addition to taking the new medication I started exercising at the start of 2017 as I thought I had to do something about how terribly unfit I felt and big and heavy I had become.

Most people who suffer from a mental health issue will have been advised to take more exercise, in whatever form, as it can help with your frame of mind. It is true. Last year was the first year I truly committed to taking regular exercise for the first time since my twenties. I would go an sporadic runs now and again over the years but last year I started running regularly as well as going swimming and to the gym to use the spin bike and the rowing machine. It's true; regular exercise can truly improve your frame of mind. I lost in the region of four and a half to five stone in weight and noticed an extreme change in the size of clothes I was able to wear. I also felt far healthier by maintaining a proper balanced diet and eating varied cuisine and more vegetables. I also stopped drinking carbonated soft drinks and the change in how I felt physically was incredible.

This really does have an impact on your mental health and as a result I felt far more capable in dealing, not just with spiking anxiety, but with any problems I encountered in general. It is something I would recommend to any person who experiences anxiety or depression or any other form of mental health issue. If it is possible for a person to eat a balanced and varied diet as well as take regular exercise then I would recommend they implement this as soon as possible as the benefit can be extraordinary. Since January 2017 I have continued to run regularly and eat a balanced diet in order to maintain the weight and size I had reached.

Despite taking such positive actions and feeling the physical and psychological benefits of such dramatic changes I am still unable to outrun the anxiety which has plagued me. January and February tend to be difficult months for me as they can be for a lot of people. As I move towards the end of March and my birthday I tend to be in a better frame of mind although I remain a little agitated around my birthday. This year, however, I have been unable to locate an even keel and have felt off-balance for a majority of the time. Still running, eating better and taking the medication and implementing the CBT where possible but seeing little benefit. My Fluoxetine dosage has been increased on two occasions; first to 40mg and then to 60mg. It was reduced back to 40mg but after feeling a spike in the anxiety coupled with a depression I have not experienced before I have now changed medication again.

I have only been taking the new medication for a short period of time and I was advised by my GP, and know from experience, these medications can take anywhere from four to six weeks to have any real impact. The anxiety had been bad enough but coupled with a depression, lows the likes of which I have never experienced before, each day has been more challenging. This depression which I am experiencing at the moment is incredibly dark and feels as though I have become locked within a void of some nature. I have struggled to rise in the morning, I am eating less as I quite simply can't bring myself to prepare food and have spent longer periods sitting staring into space without even the mildest urge to move. At points the OCD and anxiety made it difficult to get out of the chair but at least there were things I wanted to do, now I appear to have lost any will to interact with the world. Although I have a tendency to isolate myself (primarily having solitary pursuits such as running, reading and writing do not really allow for company) this feels more as though I have nothing of any value to add to any social interaction. I am also aware of an urge to ignore the phone when it rings such is my determination to avoid conversation.

I do not consider myself to be a negative person, though there are those who would say that I am, but I do admit to being macabre. I do not believe that a person who is macabre or morbid can easily be categorised as a negative person. When presented with a problem my initial reaction is to solve it; this is a positive action rather than a passive or negative one and there are those who may try to avoid the problem or circumvent it rather than search for a solution. Although I can be sullen I do not believe this makes me negative and I would classify such comments as an unfair criticism of my character. During this depression, however, I feel as though the only way to describe my behaviour has been negative. Perhaps because when faced with this problem I feel unable to create a solution. The techniques I have used previously to manage the anxiety and the OCD feel futile against the shadow of depression in which I now reside. In trying to make light of the situation I have come to term this my 'Blackest Night' such is my love of Green Lantern lore. Some may find this mawkish or cheesy but each of us derive strength from different places and perhaps embracing that which gives us strength is as important as any strategy for management of such issues.

[escapedreplicant]

The Conundrum of Identity

On Anxiety, Depression, OCD and identity

"You're the social chameleon; you change to suit the people around you."

Most people have a fixed notion of their identity. I have never been certain of several aspects of my psyche and one of the issues experienced in not knowing who you are is an extension to further questions which stem from that uncertainty. Although the central, and I believe most important question, is 'who am I?' the knock-on effect of having no answer are the raising of questions such as 'what do I want to achieve?' and 'how should I achieve it?' which also remain unanswered. So often I feel as though I have been caught amongst varying aspects of my psyche pulling me in multiple directions all at once until the very fabric of my being is stretched thin; porous and transparent, unable to hold form.

Although this could imply a flexibility to my being, a sense of ever-shifting identity, it is actually less an evolving, morphing state as an inability to tether the solid core of my psyche to an anchor of some sort. As a teenager I often experienced a disconnect from my body and my name, as though looking in the mirror there was not me; blue eyes and brown hair, indistinguishable caucasian features from those of my peers and a slender and athletic casing of just under six feet; but a body, a name given by my parents and the being behind the eyes surveying and contemplating what those meant.

I think it prudent to unpack what I mean by the notion of identity. I do not simply mean personality or character traits but also a firm set of values or principles and innate knowledge of what is inviolable to the being of any individual. The dictionary definition of identity is; the fact of being who or what a person or thing is, but I have never felt tethered to any particular aspect of my being. That is not to say I do not have a political stance on topics or any principles to which I try to adhere, rather that those are not an identity. Most people hold opinions on matters but I would not state they define that being as an individual.

My opinion is that identity is the fact of being who or what a person is and that this forms the core of that being and is something to which they can be tethered. It is something which grounds the individual and which they can always rely upon. It is the solid core of their being that forms the basis for their personality and characteristics. I have never felt tethered to any particular aspect of my being and as a result I have often felt unmoored, disconnected and detached.

At some point in our lives most of us will experience a sensation of being 'lost' which can be a truly profound and moving process. When this happens some people are able to prioritise what is important in their life and they experience a form growth. Some people will be given a wake-up call of sorts if they have stagnated in some way. For some who suffer from a mental health issue the experience can be disorienting and leave the individual with feelings of insecurity and anxiety. In my own experience, having no real tether, I have often experienced an extreme internal isolation, a feeling of extreme hopelessness and despair.

I can be in a room full of people and contributing to the conversation and still feel alone. More than alone; removed from the environment. I am present in body but in mind and spirit I am adrift...floating in an empty space. I am certain I am not the only person who experiences this extreme remove from those around me but the sensation which it causes is incredibly acute and leaves me disoriented from my immediate environment. On some occasions I have had to force myself to remain alert such is the instant and intense level of this feeling.

To some people this will seem like a strange admission and to others they will immediately recognise when this has occurred during conversations. I have been told by some close to me that my understanding of my own being is at odds with the person whom they know, which is a truly disconcerting contrast in opinions. To describe what you believe is a core component of your being only to be told the antithesis has been true in their opinion is a strange experience. In this regard I do not place any real faith in the experience people have in dissecting my being or my own ability to understand myself.

One example where the opinion of others is in contrast to my opinion of myself is the dichotomy of introvert/extrovert within my personality. Over the years there are those who have found me withdrawn and quiet within a group of people and someone who does not really contribute to the conversation. There are those to whom I appear brash and extroverted and often lamenting or venting my dissatisfaction or spleen to any and all within the immediate, and sometimes further, vicinity.

I have also encountered many people over the years who would tell me I am not a funny person and reaches too hard for jokes but there are those who tell me I am a very amusing person and they enjoy spending time in my company as a result. I would often place the division over this opinion to the people I am around at that time as I have met a lot of funny people over the years and I am always inclined to defer to their humorous antics rather than engage in any of my own. One aspect that I would not debate is that I am difficult to get along with due to my temperamental nature which often displays as an obstinance but others have told me I am passionate and not easily persuaded.

How this plays into my anxiety, depression and OCD is the addiction and requirement to adhere to the ritualistic aspects of that OCD. As my personality had been developing throughout my adolescence it is also when the OCD developed and quickly evolved to unhealthy levels of paranoia and anxiety. As a result I spent little time understanding myself in the context of my being and was certain only in my reliance on these ritualistic acts to carry me through the day and the building levels of dread and uncertainty I experienced. Looking back I believe this prevented me from being decisive and allowed a procrastination to develop within my character as any decision and resulting interaction would be determined by the ritualistic acts built around such a decision.

This, in effect, absolved me of any responsibility for any decisions which I made which did not have what I expected to be the end result. This has been borne out in choosing of a course at university of which I had no interest but would continue the work from my final year at high school and this provided a continuation which felt comfortable. When I dropped out of the course and eventually returned to study I panicked and picked a course I believed I would be accepted into and had some interest in rather than reviewing fully the range of options available. This was a result of anxiety experienced from the full time job I had taken in the intervening period and in which I found absolutely no value. It has only been in the last few years, following the almost complete psychological collapse I experienced, that I have taken responsibility for these decisions.

Understanding the position I was in and the result of the anxiety on my young and underdeveloped psyche does not provide me with a core of my being on which many others are able to rely. It would be wrong to base my being on my principles as I believe these should always be open to change in the face of evidence which advances or evolves a position. It would be folly to determine my being by the characteristics people believe I exude as those can be contrary to the opinions of those characteristics held by others. I would also hesitate to hold the core of my identity as personality traits as this seems reductive.

Some would argue that to dwell on such questions of identity is itself a form of procrastination and that I should get on with the task of living. My requirement to focus, on what many people deem trivial and unnecessary, metaphysical questions of identity and being are further examples of descending into sentimentality and hubris in attempting to answer questions with which far greater people than I have struggled to contend. I have heard people say that my insistence on struggling with such questions indicates an arrogance within me as though I am better than my peers as they have lived while I have dwelt on the process of living.

Whilst I understand those points I believe they actually exude an arrogance of their own as though such questions should not be considered and would argue there is no sentimentality or feeling sorry for myself in their dwelling. I envy the person comfortable enough in their own skin they feel certain in making such proclamations as if I felt as secure in my own being as they then there would be no requirement for me to commit these thoughts to countless notebooks, essays and fiction I have written over the years. As it currently stands I am not secure in my own skin and these feelings of isolation, while trivial to some, are tangible within me and have left me isolated for large parts of my life. Most people who suffer from a mental health condition will recognise such comments as those akin to 'pull yourself together' or 'get a grip' and such ilk.

In seeking help for my mental health issues I undertook a course of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) to assist in breaking down the ritualistic acts, their requirement and my reliance upon them. In doing so this created a further obstacle in my search for identity as for so long those rituals had been how I defined myself, though incorrectly. An element within me, which felt alien, seemed to perceive this as a betrayal of sorts. I do not have a split personality; it was me who perceived this as a betrayal but as aware as I was that I required help in dealing with my issues, to reduce, slow down, break, cease or abandon those ritualistic acts felt as though I had cast out a portion of my psyche, exiled from my being.

This is the crux of the problem with which I have to contend each day when faced with a spike in my anxiety or a struggle to rise from my bed. A psychological grappling that exacts a physical toll. The reliance on such ritual behaviour is not an adequate coping strategy for either the anxiety or the depression and to move past these urges is not an abandoning of my being but rather a necessary evolutionary step in managing my OCD, whilst it may be a chronic issue, it does not and should not define who I am.

The quote I have used at the beginning of this article has been used out of context, as any person who has listened to Corpses in Their Mouths will know. I use that particular lyric independent of the song as it explains why those with whom I spend time have varying impressions of me rather than a consistent image. Mine is not due to any falsity presented on my part, as there is no deliberate attempt to change my skin, but is very much a result of that amorphous mass of personality to which I have alluded which is not fixed to any core.

A few years ago I was talking to somebody who advised me the most important quality a person can bring to any challenge is determination. Any other quality is secondary as that determination, a will to succeed or overcome, is essential to a being. At the time I did not really think past the determination I felt in completing the ritualistic obsessive acts I undertook but in the time that has passed I think I have understood why determination is so important. It is not about 'getting a grip' or 'pulling yourself together' but is in fact about devoting yourself to overcoming the challenges before you. In my case that determination has been harnessed to properly manage my condition and after struggling for a further period through 2015 and 2016 I accepted that medication may be required to assist with this challenge. Since late 2016 I have taken medication as part of the management of my condition and in January 2017 I began exercising regularly and eating an appropriate balanced diet. As a result I lost between four and a half to five stones in weight and have gained a level of fitness similar to that of my early to mid-twenties.

I have been able to maintain that weight loss as a result of remaining determined as I have felt far more agile psychologically and more capable as a result of that action. Whilst I experienced a period of feeling more positive and capable I have still suffered through periods of intense self-doubt as a result of such a radical shift. This emphasised, in a strange and surreal sense, my lack of holding a central core of my being. To swing so radically from such an inactive and passive lifestyle to a more active and determined self hammered home how fluid my being still was. Still is. The anxiety/depression/OCD aside, identity is its own terrain and something I am still trying navigate and although those feelings of dread and fear may have abated for a period their continual recurrence has led to me believe that this may well be the core of my being and one to which I would rather not lay claim.

[escapedreplicant]

On Anxiety, Depression and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

This is a lengthy and personal post. I do not post this seeking sympathy from anybody but only because mental health issues impact roughly 1 in 4 people in the UK and I still do not believe enough awareness or understanding is centred around the impact of such issues.

People who know me are aware that I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and experience acute anxiety from which the OCD stems. It is not something I discuss as a matter of course but I will always answer candidly, if possible, when asked about the issue and how it impacts my life and the strategies I use to manage the condition. Attitudes to mental health being what they are some people do not want to initiate such a conversation in case you have a nervous breakdown or become overly emotional (which is a common misconception). There are people who are curious about the issue though, who will query the condition and its coping strategies, possibly because they have another friend or family member who suffers from anxiety or depression or they have experienced such emotions themselves. Then again, some people are just nosey.

To explain the issue in the most basic sense; I suffer from an anxiety which becomes heightened to such a degree I have come to rely on ritual interaction with my environment in order to alleviate the dread which accompanies the anxiety. The ritual behaviour was a coping strategy for periods of heightened psychological distress I experienced when I was a teenager. As a result this left me with a skewed perception of the world, in that I would place the success or failure of any task on my ritual behaviour, which comprised my every interaction from waking to sleep, rather than acknowledging when I had actually achieved success through my own endeavour or failed because I had not completed the requisite work.

The above outline is broad and does a disservice to the specificity most people who suffer from OCD demand of themselves when it comes to their ritualistic behaviour. I only wanted to lay down a baseline of cause and effect from my own specific experience. I'm sure some people will say 'why not just stop doing them if you know it doesn't have any effect?' but this is reductive thinking around a complex problem. Most people suffer from having an internal struggle of some nature through the course of their lives. It is the oldest story; the greatest battle lies within. Having an analytical mind combined with an inventive imagination whilst experiencing acute anxiety does not allow for me to stand still and ask myself 'what do I hope to gain from this action?' as within a split-second of such an issue occurring my adrenalin has spiked and we're off to the races. To be aware of the futility of your actions that you repeat ad nauseam but still feel an over-whelming, all-encompassing need to complete them is not a position in which a person would wish to be.

Believe me; I'd love to just stop but one of the most common mistakes a person who suffers from a mental health issue can make is assuming or believing they can be 'cured.' For most, a mental health issue is a chronic condition and whilst some may experience great success in managing their condition to potential eradication for most there will always be that cold tug on the back of the cortex to remind you the monster might be in the cage but its always trying to get out. Depression also forms a component of the condition and whilst I would say I have never felt depressed each of the psychological evaluations I have completed as part of my therapy has always scored within the range for depression. Its only when I really think about the difficulty I experienced in making decisions, in delaying dealing with an issue, do I realise the depression component of the condition was also impacting my health. With all the above in mind I can only discuss how my own anxiety/depression/OCD has developed.

I was always aware I was a weird child. Not a weird child; a weird teenager. Different, in a distinct sense, from those with whom I was surrounded. I was aware, all too conscience, of my dependence on ritual in an effort to control the events around me. This was always going to be folly and, ultimately, doomed to failure. Puberty, adolescence, the introduction of alcohol and other substances into my changing body combined with a crippling anxiety, for which I as yet had no name, was always going to be a chemical recipe for mayhem.

Whilst I don't necessarily remember where it started or what triggered this addiction to ritual I do remember a change in my environment, my bedroom, sometime between the ages of 14 and 15. I became very specific about items within the room, their placement, how they interacted with the other items in their vicinity to the point where even the most meagre of adjustments would send me into unmitigated frenzy. I also became very specific in how I rose from bed, the actions I would take before going to school in the morning; getting washed, dressed, the route I would take to school. I remember when my friends wanted to change the route I was terrified but didn't want to say why I wanted to maintain our usual route for fear of the universal repercussions of the change.

Like most people with an obsessive mind I sought patterns in my life; events, actions that were somehow controllable by my interactions with the world around me. Only as time passed would I realise the damage the specificity I required in completing these actions had on my mind and body.

My love of literature, comics and cinema has been a constant since my teenage years and having studied aspects of such arts I always look for narrative. For structure. A beginning, a middle and an end. There is no start to this story, though. It simply came into being, indistinguishable from any time before. I do not know if there has been a middle or if this is currently the second act or what form the third and final act will take. I say that not to be ominous but to establish that I have attempted to make sense of the condition in, what I believe, is a rational and analytical manner. Cause and effect.

In my efforts to control my environment I became aware of an insistence...no...a determination, to control my interactions with the world in an effort to replicate previous occasions of alleviating a sense of dread which I held about many aspects of my life. My health, the health of my family, social status, money, security, death, the future, my friends and the expectations, failures and disappointments I may inflict or may have inflicted upon me. If I had experienced the bounty of good fortune on one day then I would often attempt to repeat or reenact the events from that day on the following in the belief it would involve the same outcome.

Which, I'm sure most psychiatrists or psychologists would tell you, is insane. I am not a clinical diagnostician, however.

This was my mindset at the time. Through dedicated and specific ritual repetition; completing the same tasks in the same way at the same time, each day, every day and devoting myself to their rigid adherence I would be able to ensure events would unfold in the manner in which I envisioned and that there would be a positive, rather than a negative, outcome.

It started with right angles on my desk and Oasis bottles on the shelf.

During my youth I was an active participant in school theatre; having a flair for the dramatic is an aspect of my personality I often tap into but have seldom claimed. I would buy a bottle of Oasis, these were glass back in the day, before going on stage and at the end of the night I would take the bottle home. At least I did this on the first night. The show had went well. This meant I done it on the second night. Then the third. And the fourth. Four empty glass bottles of Oasis sitting atop the shelf of my desk, all facing the same direction, equally spaced apart, touching no other item on the desk and not slightly hanging over the front or back edge but perfectly steadfast on the centre of the plinth. I could spend a prolonged period sorting these bottles, and the other items on the desk, in the most minute of ways to the point where it seemed my contact with the object was almost imperceptible in an effort to achieve the perfect angle.

Now...I believed this was a confluence of my actions taken throughout the week and that I was being 'rewarded' in some way for having a positive outcome on my environment. Maintaining the right angles of items on my desk, ensuring there were no over-lapping or over-hanging items, that I had washed, dressed and left the house in the same manner on each of the days. That I listened to the same music at the same time and hit the required marks and degrees of specificity (there were no degrees, if I didn't hit it I kept going until I did) to ensure a positive outcome was obtained. So, I was rewarded with four error-free performances during the show.

Like I said: Insane.

The fact that I remember, with remarkable clarity, actions which were taken more than 20 years ago during the week of this show but can't remember anything of the show or the nights themselves suggests how uneventful it had been. More than likely though, it just emphasises how emphatic the impact of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder has been on my life. This is the earliest, most vivid occasion I can recall of my determination to religiously adhere to my own personal dogma of obsessive behaviour. I was a zealot. I am a zealot.

From this twisted seed would grow the most monstrous of roots which gripped the earth of my mind like a steel vice. The root, the stem of the unshakeable tree which never swayed or rocked. Immune to axe and fire and evergreen with the fruits of my unravelling mind. Impossible to starve, it continued to grow until I was in awe at the structure it had become. I was unaware at the time but I was becoming lost within the branches of this tree.

It is easier to track the impact the OCD has had on my life from this point as I recall vividly further occasions of extreme obsessive behaviour that I know post-date it. That is not to say it didn't exist prior to this point, just that everything after is sharper in my mind.

When I was a teenager I used to regularly attend matches at Fir Park with several of my friends. Autumn has always been my favourite time of year and this is an especially beautiful time for going to the football; the match starts in the daylight and ends with the floodlights on in the dusk of the wistful fall atmosphere. The bite of the cold weather and the howl of the wind and the sound of the rain on the roof of the stand (in the times before climate change when autumn was, y'know, actually autumnal). I believe this is one of the reasons autumn established itself as my favourite season so early in my life.

During the October of 1997 I remember listening to Mosley Shoals by Ocean Colour Scene prior to going to a match. My CD player was next to my bed and I put on headphones and lay on my bed listening to the album (taking care to skip 40 Past Midnight as I didn't like that song as much) before meeting my friends on the stairs of the block of flats some of us shared and heading to Fir Park. I remember this vividly because I used to repeat this process each Saturday in an attempt to somehow bring good fortune upon myself and the team which, given the club's ability to compete, was folly. I do remember a lot of good times I spent at Fir Park though throughout those years and it formed a large part of my social life as a teenager.

This is only part of what became my Saturday routine though. It all started with going to McDonalds on a Saturday morning to get food that I would bring back to the house (I lived fairly close to Motherwell town centre and could be back home in 15 minutes after getting my food) and eat watching a film I had recorded on videotape or whatever was on television at that time. I always ordered the exact same food. It was always a large McChicken sandwich meal with Irn Bru and a portion of six Chicken McNuggets. This was always eaten in my bedroom. This was always eaten in the same methodical manner. Fries first, specifically six fries followed by two fries counting up to five groups of six, each group separated by two and then always leaving six fries until the end to finish on the number 36. This was a task in itself because I couldn't just pick up three and then another three to make six; I had to pick up six on placing my hand into the cardboard container. Why? Who could say, I certainly couldn't. Some numbers just seemed better than others. I would then have three sucks on the straw of the Irn Bru before eating the McChicken sandwich, followed by another three sucks on the straw and then eat the McNuggets, four then another three sucks on the straw before the last two, before finishing the drink. Again, why? Again, I couldn't possibly say.

This would always segue into watching Grandstand on BBC One before the ritual of listening to music before the football. I didn't do this all the time but when I didn't I felt unbalanced. Something felt off-kilter and it left me with a very uneasy feeling. As a result I often skipped out on doing things with people because I was so determined to complete the ritual without disruption. I still had a fairly active social life as a teenager but I am aware of the damage this has done as I was still secluding myself from people to ensure they did not see the rituals I was determined to repeat. Seclusion or isolation is a common aspect of mental health disorders and most people, when dealing with heightened anxiety or depression, will often remove themselves from social environments.

On one occasion I even had the same food from McDonalds twice in one day for circumstances which I don't remember but I can clearly recall feeling unbalanced because the food from the first occasion was not eaten 'correctly.' This continued from 1997 sometime until 1999 when I got a weekend job but even then all it meant was a reorganising of the routine; eating the McDonalds at my lunch break in the same methodical manner hoping nobody noted my desperately trying to count the fries I had picked up to ensure there were six, then two, then six and so on. Then when I stopped the Saturday job I went immediately back to the routine. Comfortable in its familiarity.

There is one other set routine I would religiously follow over this period of my life. Before I went to bed I would always listen to the same songs. This always started at the same time each night and it involved changing CDs multiple times as I moved through the routine. The songs were Swallowed by Bush, D'you Know What I Mean by Oasis and from the same single Angel Child and The Rembrandts theme from Friends (yes, if I was not embarrassed by the actions I was taking I was certainly embarrassed by that). I have always been a night-owl and I have struggled with achieving a regular sleeping pattern since I was a teenager but on the occasions where I fell asleep during this routine I would wake up panicked and agitated. In my delirious, sleep-deprived state I would attempt to complete the routine before finally turning off the CD player.

There are actually many more examples of my OCD from my teenage years but these are some of the more vivid experiences I remember. It infiltrated every aspect of my life and I felt powerless to control it or apply any measure of logical thought in order to limit or stop the rituals. Perhaps I had tried to rationalise it as superstition, a lot of people have rituals they undertake such as not walking under a ladder or listening to a song before they go out or knocking on wood. What I was unaware of at that time, being young and feeling unable to talk to anybody about my concerns, was the lasting damage the anxiety was causing to my psyche.

The period through which I experienced most difficulty would be from 1997 to 2007 before I finally sought help in 2008 following, what I didn't appreciate at the time, was an almost full psychological collapse. I was unable to complete the most basic of tasks without suffering through extreme anxiety; showering, shaving, getting dressed, basically anytime I made connection with an object I attributed the negative feeling which permeated my being as being correctable by trying to place a positive image in my mind whilst repeating the task. What I didn't understand was that my fears; my health, the health of my family, social status, death, money, the future, my friends and the expectations, failures and disappointments I may inflict or may have inflicted upon me, were ingrained on my psyche and were all I thought of and which existed deep within my sub-conscious and were never going to be controllable.

These are fears which are common to pretty much every human being but the problem of a person with an obsessive compulsive mind is to try and alleviate the anxiety that accompanies them by ritualistic behaviour. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) will help you break down some of these rituals and medication can assist with the chemical imbalance and curb the level of anxiety you experience but you must also reach a point of understanding your condition. You will experience fear. You will have doubts. You will be troubled by events but it is how you manage your reaction to these events that will determine how well you cope with the condition. This is what I have found in my experience, at least.

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Images

Art is subjective. True; beauty is in the eye of the beholder. On Wednesday it was ten years since the passing of one of my favourite comic book artists, Michael Turner. Often I’ll pull out specific comics to look over or even non-specific comics to remind myself of how great the medium is; whether the art, page composition, writing, lettering or even just a cover. I have a fairly large collection of comics with covers by Michael Turner, I also have some with his interior images as well but it was his covers I always found most striking. I spent time at conventions trailing around looking for exclusive variants as well as searching online at retailers and eBay for some of the more rare items. In some of those more rare cases I remember spending a decent bit of money trying to get those variants. X-Men issue 500, the Civil War Aspen exclusive variants as well as the standard variants for the series. The reason I mention art being subjective is because, as with any art form, I met people who were less keen on his art style. Much like any comic artist or writer or colourist they have their fans and their detractors. Over the years I’ve met a lot of really great, inspiring people in comics; Scott Snyder, Sean Murphy, Matteo Scalera, Keiron Gillen, Jamie McKelvie to name a few. Got to shake their hands get my comics signed speak to them for a few minutes at a convention about their work or hear them speak on a panel. I never got to meet Michael Turner, although I do have a signed item, and, obviously, I would have loved to have met him. I think it is important that if somebody has contributed to a field in the arts; music, film, literature, whatever it may be, its important to let them know you enjoyed their work and that you got something from it. It’s a view common among comic fans, at least the reasonable ones, and you’ll often hear editors and professionals say it’s important to let a creator know you enjoy their work. I’ve added some images below of my favourite of the many, many covers I have of Turner’s work, coloured by Peter Steigerwald, and the cover to The Flash issue 210 remains my favourite cover of all time. So, whether he can hear me or not: Thanks, Michael. I still love your work.

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2001: A Space Odyssey

Been a while since I blogged. Anyway, after watching 2001: A Space Odyssey I had an urge to do so. It’s a spectacular film with that type of effect. It has also been number two on my list of ten science-fiction films that define the genre. It has done more than just define a genre it has also inspired several film-makers and some of it’s DNA can be felt in films like Under the Skin and Interstellar as well as scenes being given the pop-culture treatment of The Simpsons (Homer’s Blue Danube munching crisps in space scene).

So where do you begin in discussing a film that has had an emphatic impact on more than just science-fiction cinema? Well, the best place to begin is with the emptiness of space. That opening shot of a black expanse, defined by nothing other than the edges of the screen but it’s depth, it could go on for infinity. Before life there was only the void. The beginnings of a score strike up, what seems like background noise at first, becomes a tornado before it tails off and the opening credits appear and that imagery of the Earth, the moon, the sun and space all in alignment, as though a momentous event is occurring. Momentous might be the best word to describe the film. My own, specific, love of 2001: A Space Odyssey comes from the distinct acts that comprise the film beginning with The Dawn of Man.

The shots could be taken from a nature documentary of some type, those beautiful, expansive vistas, the Martian-esque landscape, the sun hanging in the sky or hovering just above a plateau. What this segment makes me think of though, is how man’s nature is cyclical. We are introduced to a tribe of our descendants, they move among four-legged beasts. Then one of their number is killed by a leopard. A food chain has now been established. We have not yet evolved to the stage where this monster can be confronted. This echoes later in the shot of the leopard over a felled zebra. Then there is a confrontation over a resource; the water pool. Two separate groups of apes screeching representing our base tribalism, over a shared resource, and escaping a shared threat. Our ancestors huddle together in the cold, blue night. The leopard can be heard in the distance, we have established that we are without invention at this point.

Then; the monolith. The screaming and screeching voices, that aggressive and troubling score as though voices are communicating through the monolith to us. That split image of the sun and moon above the ridge of the monolith, that reoccuring image of celestial bodies in alignment that is commonplace throughout the film. The apes touch and move around the monolith, it is almost worshipful. Are they paying tribute or merely in awe? Following this encounter there is invention as an ape discovers they can use a bone as a club and proceeds to smash the remaining skull and bones of a creature, all this beautifully intercut between images of felled beasts and meat being shared amongst the tribe. How does this invention end? By the violent taking of a resource by smashing the skull of another ape. War. Superiority has been achieved. Mankind will repeat this process exponentially over the coming centuries.

This segment alone gives me pause but then Kubrick ends this violent flurry and  foreboding message with the most beautiful of transitions as the most primal of inventions is thrown into the air before becoming a drifting spaceship. An expanse of centuries beautifully cut through, connecting our most humble of beginnings with the most aspirational of our futures. There is an elegance and a gentile nature to the floating of the items in space accompanied by the Blue Danube, giving the journey an element of playfulness. There is even a wheel present. What could be considered our first invention, that helped us traverse the world is now sent into space helping us greet new horizons.

The production design across the upcoming scenes is spectacular. From the Panam flight attendant’s grip shoes to the video screens on the back of each seat. Then Kubrick creates an intense and amazing scale as the circular space station and the shuttle spin in tandem to the beautiful movement, like a dance, marrying artistry and machinery. The quality of the production design and the forecasting of future technology goes further as we are met with voice identification, picture phones all among beautifully clean, antiseptic floors. Such is the quality of what has gone before that only now, in the conversation with the Russian scientists, are we given any semblance of narrative.

This scene alone is telling given the film was made during the Cold War, Russians and Americans have respective bases on the moon and an oversight committee of some nature exists with laws enacted to ensure cooperation. Science-fiction often tells us so much about the times we live in, whether in the past or in the future it seems. The zero gravity toilet is a lovely nod to Kubrick’s inclusion of the location within his films, in the future many defining moments will be made in bathrooms. One thing I love is how loosely the narrative hangs over the film, the monolith was “deliberately buried” adding a further element of mystery to the proceedings following the conversation about what has occurred at the moon base. The journey to the monolith itself is accompanied by a haunting and foreboding score. There are some things man was never meant to know, perhaps if we are alone in the universe is one of those things. So we are greeted with another monolith, or the same monolith, the same noise rises up, apes still gather around it, more advanced but no less curious and the Earth hangs in the background before…the shriek. A screeching that gives me chills to this day.

Now, we get to meet HAL.

Jupiter Mission starts with a beautiful and slow shot of the elongated ship moving through space, comprised of carriages almost, like a train on an interstellar journey. My favourite shot of the film has to be the running scene. It is genius. The motion and control of the scene is still as striking to me today as it was when I first saw the film years ago. To me, it is evidence of a genius filmmaker at work, which Kubrick was.

There are countless films and TV programmes that have paid tribute to that menacing red eye and the hollow voice that accompanies it. There is a very common trope in science-fiction cinema of androids, robots or replicants breaking down or becoming self-aware, or finishing humanity’s job by wiping us off the face of the planet but, for me, none are more terrifying than HAL, because he has the most human of traits; a survival instinct. His logic is twisted and terrifying and all too relatable as he handles the flight or fight situation of being disconnected the only way possible, by removing human error from the equation.

The lip reading scene has forever troubled me, as this silent red light is more capable than any of the crew have been able to realise.

INTERMISSION (Just like the film).

The slow turning of the pod when Frank goes out to replace the AE35 unit is chilling, as seconds later he is thrust into Dave’s field of vision, hurtling through space grasping at the oxygen cable on the back of the suit. As Dave rushes out to secure Frank’s body HAL “malfunctions” causing the remaining crew in cryosleep to die. Any person who has difficulty with any technology often cribs the line; “I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” At least I know I have on occasion.

HAL is self-aware, and very much in the spirit of self-preservation takes the most direct and most violent course of action available to him. If we create artificial intelligence to mimic human intelligence then this is going to be a logical end point. I would argue that their is a symmetry to the flight or fight instinct in the shots of HAL locking Dave out of the ship and in the scene of Dave risking his life to blow into the airlock to stop HAL. We are then treated to a terrifying rendition of Daisy as HAL is reconfigured and I am convinced this is the reason so many horror movies now insist on having a children’s nursery rhyme sang in a slow voice in their trailers.

We are then returned to the narrative in the form of the message. I love that there is no complex mechanical plot pulling 2001: A Space Odyssey along. This is most evident in The Dawn of Man and in Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite. Many a night have ai lay awake in bed and tried to perceive what Dave was trying to perceive in his journey. Those bright, vivid colours, blurring images, landscapes cycling through bizarre colour patterns, the nature of reality beyond the expanse. I have often thought that this symbolic of Dave being unabl to perceive what the universe is telling him, his all too primitive brain struggling to comprehend existence in its most raw state. This is why it ends with the continual blinking of his eye through the colour patterns until finally a construct has been formed which he can understand. A room. Walls, doors, a bed, chairs. A toilet at the edge of time and space. Then there are the three versions of Dave. Aged within his space suit, eating dinner and drawing his last breath. I have always envisaged this as what our perception of life outside of time to be like, in that we are viewing the versions of ourself in a format in which we understand. To us, time is linear, so it would make sense to see ourselves age to the point we are watching ourselves draw our last breath.

The metaphysical ending as the monolith enters the room and the baby watches over the Earth has no doubt inspired conversations of such nature amongst many. Personally, I could talk about 2001: A Space Odyssey for hours. I consider it to be a seminal text in the genre of science-fiction and one of the greatest films made by a genius filmmaker who was versatile enough to give us films like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Doctor Strangelove and Ths Shining. His impact and the film’s should never be understated.

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A Less Than Comic Rivalry

I had a bit of a rant on Twitter last night over the course of several tweets after becoming stuck in the quagmire of comments posted in reply to some of the Captain America: Civil War reviews. Petty and trivial the issue may be and unworthy of the headspace I am currently giving it but the issue raises its less than lovely head every so often and as a reader of comics published by the big two it is difficult to not get a little frustrated by the issue.

So…by now everybody must be well aware of the critical armageddon which met Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice upon its release. Panned by and large by professional critics the world over as a messy, unstructured, CGI-laden disaster with more slow motion than Sky Sports could utilise over both games on a Super Sunday. Also panned by members of the comics press, fanboys (though for varying reasons) and the general public at large but that has not stopped its march to almost a billion at the box office. Such is life though, right?

There are though, pockets of resistance out there who are fervently defending the film who seem almost fanatically dedicated to reversing public opinion on the film. I think I encountered some of them last night attempting to cast aspersions over the authenticity of some of the positive Captain America: Civil War reviews. Some would say their comments were jokes or that they were trolling waiting for a rabid fanboy to take the bait but given many a true word is said under the guise of humour it is hard not to take them seriously.

The first comment ran along the lines of Disney paying reviewers to provide CA:CW with favourable reviews in the wake of the BvS reviews while another noted Marvel were lucky people don’t mix up Black Panther with Batman given the similarity, I think the point he was trying to make was that Marvel had ripped off Batman’s look for Black Panther in the film, of their costumes. How? Another  comment started pulling away at the humour CA:CW has, which it has been praised for, as though the film was doing a disservice to the serious issues at the expense of comedy, something BvS did not do. Well, to that end, BvS was so criminally devoid of any levity it made the film a slog and incredibly dour.

The bigger issue is that, for some reason, Marvel and DC fans, not all but some, are more interested in hammering the other side for their lack of diversity/creativity/quality than read the books and have a conversation about the themes they raise. I have never understood a fan who only pulls from one publisher. Like literature or cinema, pulling from multiple genres or sources is one of the most important aspects of art. The equivalent is a person who only eats at McDonalds but never at Burger King or KFC or any other food outlet. Why? I hate the “oh, but DC has Batman” argument or the “but I love Spidey” discussion. DC has Green Lantern and The Flash but Marvel has Hawkeye and Captain America and the idea of only ever reading one set of those characters based on their publisher is ridiculous. If you know what you like, that is all well and good but it seems there is a lot of narrow-minded thinking when it comes to this issue and the stalwarts on the far ends of either side have no interest in admitting they are wrong but would rather pan the opposition from their ivory towers.

A few weeks ago some anonymous commenter on a website said that Marvel publishes something like 70 books which are all bad but he would read DC because the Rebirth titles coming in June were much better than Marvel’s output. There is no fucking way he has read DC’s June output in March when he made the comment. It was typical of the “I’m a DC guy, fuck Marvel” attitude that some fans display. The hardcore Marvel fans are not much better, given the flak rolling around following DC’s Rebirth announcements. So DC are trying to streamline their publishing line? Big deal, some Marvel fans have short memories given the rejigging following Avengers vs X-Men and then Secret Wars more recently. Comic sales are not exactly growing rapidly so the publishers are trying to innovate to bring in new readers. Does that piss of the old guy like me? Of course it does, but I understand that new readers will help the industry and if they sell more Batman or Wolverine books then I might get a lower-tier character in their own book at some point. We are all comics fans, so there is no need to hammer your colours to a mast as if this is a competition. It isn’t.

I know tribal thinking or tribal mentality is a common notion and that the internet allows these people to have their views reaffirmed by like-minded folks but at what point is it reasonable to accuse reviewers of taking money to write a favourable review? These people are professionals. It is their job to critique films which are made. It is unlikely BvS will be the worst reviewed movie of the year and given that all the vocal fans online had fuck all to do with the making of the film I don’t get why they are taking it so personally. So some critics like CA:CW but not BvS, there is a chance it is because it is a better film and given the films Marvel Studios have made over the last eight years that seems very likely. I just don’t get it, you demeen a piece of art purely based on the logo that appears above it? That does not seem like a reasonable thing to do now, does it?

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A Dawn of Yawn

So, rather than just see Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice once and make a snap review of my intitial thoughts, I opted for a second viewing of the film. Partly, to confirm my initial thoughts and partly to try and pick up any easter eggs, ‘cause it’s Easter, for those of us who are au fait with the source material. Firstly, let me declare my dislike for the Kryptonian Man of Steel and further state that I have never liked the character. I have read some Superman comics over the years, mainly from writers I really like, and I have yet to find a story that resonated with me. Secondly, my liking of the Dark Knight does not stretch to great lengths either. With the exception of Grant Morrison’s and Scott Snyder’s runs with the character I have never really had a lot of time for Batman. Yes, Hush and The Killing Joke are phenomenal stories but my admiration of DC was always more focussed on my Brave and Bold of Green Lantern and The Flash.

However, I digress. Just a point, there are SPOILERS from this point on if you have not seen the film. SPOILERS, I say! I only make the above statements to inform that I do not hold a “specific” vision of the characters that I demand the film-makers be faithful to. Just as well, probably. The headline at the top pretty much explains what I think, in brevity at least but before I get to that I would like to say there are a couple of things in the film that I liked, and I mean really liked. To begin with, I really liked Ben Affleck’s Bruce Wayne/Batman. I thought his performance was good and I really liked that there was a genuine, interesting, torturous history in the Gotham that he inhabits. I also really liked anytime he was on screen with Jeremy Irons, which was quite a lot luckily, because that 20 years of history they talk about felt real whenever they interacted. That’s why the second viewing was important, because if you know a bit of Batman lore then the easter eggs scattered around the building with all the graffiti are very interesting. You have “Joe” and “Ker” spread across a couple of the pillars, the word “Hush” with an arrow and the Anarchy symbol, and when you add in that Robin suit in the Batcave it made me think that this is a world that might have seen at least one but possibly two, Bat sidekicks. Jeremy Irons’ Alfred might be my favourite version of the character. His constant sharp remarks to Bruce are refreshing and really play into this 20 year history they share. 

One other thing I liked was Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman. I am not entirely sold on how she was introduced, it felt very much like early publicity for the character’s solo movie, and more on that later, but I am glad she was introduced. Those brief moments were enough to make me intrigued for that solo movie, which I would see anyway, but now I am actually keen on seeing what they do with the rich history of the character because if there is a comic book superhero who finally deserves some love in another medium then it is Wonder Woman. In particular, that little smirk after Doomsday beats her back…gives me a little hope that we will get to see Wonder Woman the warrior in action when the film makes it to cinemas.

Alas though, the issues I have with the film. Mainly, it felt very unstructured. One overriding feeling is that they had eight key comments they wanted to hit and so placed them in order and then weaved a meager thread across them to hold it together. I enjoy a loose narrative but this did not feel like a deliberately loose story and more like they had cobbled together some events that would make Batman and Superman punch each other. Oh, the punching. Although I found most of the fight satisfying it was mainly because I dislike Superman and enjoyed Batman gaining the upperhand for large parts of their brawl and certainly not because I was invested in any of the characters particularly. Especially as the classic trope of holding somebody Superman loves as a hostage had been used. This infuriates me. Next to mind control and shape-shifting, holding a supporting cast member hostage is one of the most used tropes in the superhero genre and it has not been exciting for about 50 years now. Especially when it is Superman.

There is also the inclusion of dream sequences which add nothing to the story and could easily have been removed or replaced with something far more interesting. One scene inparticular felt like it was there to appeal to the hardcore comics fans. Bruce is visited by a time-travelling Flash who delivers a prophetic warning to Bruce about finding them, the Justice League. More franchise set up. I also disliked the introduction of Aquaman, Cyborg and The Flash via the metahuman files Lex held. The Cyborg sequence especially. I really hope that was not a Mother Box that is used to build Cyborg because it looked terrible. Which is part of the reason why I was also left underwhelmed by the CGI, which looked off, for which there is no excuse given the budget these movies have. Doomsday, rather than looking terrifying looks as though Gollum had been hitting the gym and downing protein shakes. As far as the Superman in Batman vs Superman goes it seemed as though Superman and Lois Lane had been given cursory roles in the film, which is a criminal waste of someone as good as Amy Adams. The score is also ridiculous at times. Each time Luthor enters the screen there is an increase in volume and a score suitable only for a pantomime villain. I half expected the audience to jeer when he entered the screen, it was that obvious: “The villain is here, booooo! He bad!”, for which I can find no excuse for this.

So, the villain of the piece though. I get that this Lex is younger than the comics counterpart. I get the actor wanting to impart characteristics of that of a human being on the character to make him three-dimensional. There are elements of Lex in the performance: The complete distrust of Superman, the manipulation of people, the intellect. It seems to be contained within a slightly maniacal, moustache-twirling turn though that more closely resembles Joker mixed with a dash of The Riddler. I really like Jesse Eisenberg and I did not have a problem with the characterisation with the exception of the fact it is not Lex Luthor. It was a bit maniacal for my liking as well but at least he did liven up events when he appeared on screen. He also has some fairly prophetic dialogue towards the end about bells being unrung and “he’s coming” which is intersting from a comics fan’s perspective. Darkseid? Anti-Monitor?

My biggest complaint is that the film fails to be exciting at any point. The Batmobile chase sequence is vanilla, the Doomsday sequence is dull and this is the type of film which is supposed to excite you and have you on the edge of your seat. Unfortunately, it feels like more and more of these films are less and less inventive and utilise the same tricks and tropes over and over in the chasing of higher and higher box office receipts. No doubt this film will do massive box office, as I type it is well on the way to half a billion dollars from the opening weekend. I hope that the additional franchise movies they spawn at least aspire to some excitement in their story.

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Notes From The Stack

When I made my original blog post I said that eventually I would get around to blogging about comics specifically and not just in the wider discussion about science-fiction and cinema. Traditionally, this means super-heroes, spandex, world-threatening situations and larger-than-life characters contained within the four-colour pages but this is incredibly far from the comics I read these days.

Absolutely, I do still read some of those types of comics, though these days I am reading far more creator-owned books which cross genres and defy such simplistic classifications. Having read comics for so long I have a specific idea of what I look for, although I am always open to being surprised when it comes to story, and specifically what writers and artists I like. As a result my allegiance to the big two of Marvel and DC has faltered. That is not to say that Marvel and DC are not putting out good books, because by and large they are, it’s just that if a writer’s work has hooked me I would rather read something they have created rather than following a character published by the big two.

Just to give this piece some context in terms of the current weight of my stack I can say that it is definitely weighted towards books being published by Image Comics at the moment, then Marvel, mainly because I am reading Secret Wars and several of the tie-ins (more on those later) and then some DC books.

I intend to blog really specifically about the writers I follow almost unfalteringly, mainly because there work is deserving of being given it’s own place, but this week was a particularly good week for comics and I thought I would highlight some really fantastic issues. This week I had a heavier stack of nine titles with four from Marvel, four from Image and one DC title. There only being one DC title I would like to highlight it because I have loved the title for some time: Green Lantern.

I have shared my love for the Lantern-verse before on my blog and it is a character and mythology I love discussing when I get the opportunity. The book has undergone some pretty big renovations since Geoff Johns came off the title a couple of years ago and now under the stewardship of writer Robert Venditti it has continued to be a brilliant and solid DC title. I know some fans hold Johns’ work in high regard and have not liked where the book has gone in his wake but I do love what Venditti has done with Hal Jordan and the journey he has taken him on. 

In the New 52 he and artist Billy Tan kept Hal firmly in space dealing with a universe that distrusted the Corps and their motives. Since the end of the New 52 he has charted a fairly dark path for Hal, although we are only three issues in I love the possibilities his position opens up. Issue 43 is another step on that road and he is assisted this time by Evan Van Sciver, one of the definitive and best Lantern artists, in a story featuring Relic, a villain the Corps only narrowly managed to defeat previously.

Green Lantern has been one of the most consistent of DC’s books and this story continues that wonderful run. The story is natural and has grown out of recent events in the Lantern Universe and Venditti has remained true to the core of Hal’s rebellious streak and maverick nature. Hal’s humour also comes through when it allows and never at the expense of cheap humour or breaking the tone of the book. 

Having Van Sciver on a book is always a joy and his art is amazing, employing two beautiful double-page spreads to full effect, one which needs to be flipped lengthways to be read. His rendering of alien figures has always been fantastic but it is the way Van Sciver draws Black Hand that is most terrifying. Van Sciver also composes his pages wonderfully, the story never feels broken down but always fluid, at times it feels like it should be a crime to cover any of the panels with dialogue. A terrific issue.

The above image is the cover to Nailbiter issue 15 and this is an unbelievable issue in a story that is simply sublime. I hate to overuse superlatives, in general I feel that people have overused some words so much so that there meaning has become lost and lessened as a result, but in the case of Nailbiter each superlative is earned and then some. 

If you don’t know what this book is about then you are missing out on a psychological thriller of the highest order. The plot? There is a town in Oregon that has given birth to 16 of the USA’s most violent and deranged serial killers, an FBI agent goes there, ends up hacked up and his friend comes to town to unravel the mystery. This is a simplification of the plot but it is what got me intrigued. The cast of characters are three-dimensional and completely believable with distinguished motives, from the morally-compromised investigator, the local Sheriff with a complicated relationship with one of the butchers, to the psychologically deranged killers. The title is taken from one of the killers, Edward “Nailbiter” Warren who killed people who bit their nails.

One thing I love about Nailbiter is the consistency of the art and how it adds to the flow of the story. At it’s best Nailbiter flows like a psychological thriller with wonderful horror elements and Mike Henderson draws some brilliant facial expressions and adds so much to the dialogue the character is speaking. He also depicts violence in a really strong manner, there are times when I feel every chop, punch and bite. This issue is packed with some very big revelations I don’t want to spoil as I would urge anybody to pick this book up and discover for themselves as it is genuinely brilliant.

The last book I want to talk about specifically is The Wicked + The Divine issue 13 which was written by Kieron Gillen with art by Tula Lotay. This has been an amazing book from page one of the first issue and earlier this year it was announced the property will be transferred to television. The book is centred around a pantheon of Gods awakened every 90 years, and they are now alive in the modern world, and when they are awakened they only have two years to live although they are granted supernatural powers. The book combines this with popular culture, in a creative and what I feel is a unique manner, by making them pop-stars loved by millions. This is one of my favourite books of the last year and one I eagerly await each month. I love this book, objectivity can fuck off, this book connects on a real and raw emotional level.

This latest issue is amazing, and personally I think it is the best issue of the series so far and the best single issue of a comic title I have read this year. We are introduced to Tara, fucking Tara, who has become burdened with her goddess nature rather than celebrating it. The character of Tara is beautiful, and I am talking about her nature and her struggle rather than the visual, although the visual is critical to the character also. The character alone would be captivating enough but the position she is in, social media abuse, threats of rape and mutilation, an expectation to do what people want are explored expertly by Kieron Gillen and there is real pain in her all too relevant story. This is all wonderfully brought to life by Tula Lotay. I have never bought anything with her art featured before but I will now, she brings a vibrancy and beauty to each image, illustrating a beautiful Tara and using evocative facial features and expressions that add real depth to Tara’s plight. The colour palette is also beautiful and that is about the only word that comes close to describing how good the pages look. I think I may have fallen in love with this visual style while reading this book, it’s captivating.

Other titles this week were Deadly Class 15 by Rick Remender and Wes Craig. Rick Remender is a writer whose work I love and will discuss in more detail down the line. Also, Jupiter’s Circle issue 5, and Secret Wars tie-in books Civil War issue 2, Ultimate End issue 4, Siege issue 2 and Infinity Gauntlet issue 3 and all were very strong rounding out a good week for comics.

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Waiting For The Fantastic

It seems that there will never be a film that lives up to the adjective contained within the title of Marvel’s greatest comics franchise. That is my opinion, that it is Marvel’s greatest comics franchise and that a film will never meet those lofty aspirations/expectations. The newest iteration of Marvel’s premier imaginauts is not so much a disaster as the 2005 film, less said about that the better, but rather a missed opportunity to tell a compelling story with some of comics’ greatest heroes and arguably comics’ greatest villain.

I remember when I first heard they were rebooting Fantastic Four. I was excited. I hoped that someone would take those first two films and remove them from memory and replace them with something worthy of the legacy of those characters. While I believe that the reboot is a far better film it is still not what I had expected or hoped for and has some issues with its pacing primarily and also some of its visual effects.

I think everybody is familiar with the original FF origin story. Reed Richards takes Johnny Storm, Sue Storm and Ben Grimm to space only to encounter cosmic radiation that alters them imbuing them with fantastic powers which they then use to fight all manner of monsters, villains and inter-galactic threats and save the world. As this has been done before the reboot smartly uses a more contemporary reimagining of their origin from Marvel’s Ultimate comics, published in 2003 and created by Brian Michael Bendis, Mark Millar and Adam Kubert. This origin sees child prodigy Reed Richards whisked to the Baxter Building, a cutting edge think-tank for you geniuses, where he refines his method for inter-dimensional travel and journeys to the Negative Zone with Sue, Johnny, Ben and Victor Von Doom where they become molecularly altered and are again imbued with special abilities.

The film does not rigidly stick to this origin story but it is close enough. The elements used for the origin work well and I think this is one of the strongest aspect of the film and certainly does not feel contrived or forced in any way. I do not want to spoil any actual specific events that take place in the film so I will steer away from plot specifics at this point. I do feel that each of the actors cast in the lead roles do a good job if we are only ever given glimpses of how fantastic (there’s that word again) their characters can be. Kate Mara is very believeable as an intelligent, strong female lead who is comfortable with her intelligence largely in the company of men. Michael B Jordan does show that brash and cocky Johnny Storm but retains some heart and is determined to keep his powers to use them where they are needed but these character moments are fleeting and it feels like they are never given the chance to build on them. The Thing looks incredible, much closer to what I imagined he would look like on screen and Jamie Bell’s voice is gruff but sad when he does speak and the story between he and Reed is good but is given short-shrift which is infuriating as the dynamic between them, Reed’s guilt over what he done to his friend, Ben’s kindness and forgiveness is central to the family aspect of the FF.

The youthful cast are full of potential and Miles Teller is a good Reed Richards, with much more in common with his Ultimate counterpart than the main 616 Marvel Universe Reed Richards. How tantalising it would be to see them follow Ultimate Reed Richards to his position in the Ultimate Universe (if you don’t know you should check it out, it is outstanding). My biggest issue with Reed extends to Victor and the fact they do not build the relationship between them before the inciting incident. Glimpses again, brief, but too few do not make best use of having Miles Teller and Toby Kebbell playing off each other given the level of exposition in the film. I think given a stronger script with a focus on the relationship between Reed and Victor (which Jonathan Hickman should write) would have helped and it would certainly add more gravitas to Victor’s actions.

My biggest complaints are the look of Doom and the pacing of the film. Doom looks like he has been encased in plastic rather than metal and sparks with green energy and never has his abilities defined in any way. The pacing is very bad. It feels as though they panicked with the first part of the film being very science heavy, which is something I really enjoyed, before the finale is thrust upon you. I wondered if there is perhaps about 30 minutes of footage missing somewhere and if there is please include it on the blu-ray. I have no issues with Josh Trank’s visuals and I like the muted colour tones and some of the compositions in place but there are times when the effects look a little ropey, especially in comparison to other blockbuster films.

Overall I am more disappointed than anything else. The first trailers looked good, I love this FF origin and I really liked the cast, a lot of potential with a cast that have delivered some brilliant performances across varied films and TV. It just feels like the film is lacking something. It feels like perhaps this is a set-up for a sequel where they will add finesse to the relationships and we will see just how fantastic these characters are but based on the reviews, which are beginning to appear as I type, that seems far from guaranteed.

I really did have high hopes for the film and perhaps I set my expectations too high. Perhaps I was hoping for an issue of FF to unfold in front of my eyes, which is an unreasonable demand, and to be drawn in to this world and these characters. I do feel this is a vast improvement and I did like the tone but there is just not enough of those moments. I remain hopeful that with this cast and the right script there is a movie that is more Fantastic than can be imagined at this point.

The quest for the Fantastic goes on. (Above page is from FF 584 drawn by Steve Epting).

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Green Lantern Corps Movie Announced

This is news that I should be excited about but unfortunately I am more concerned than anything else. I have been reading Green Lantern comics for longer than I care to remember and, along with The Flash, is the only DC title that I have bought consistently over a prolonged period. As far as I am concerned the real DC Trinity is Green Lantern, The Flash and Martian Manhunter. I know that is not the case though and DC have more, recogniseable characters within their publishing catalogue.

For a long time I felt that several DC characters had been overlooked in that publishing catalogue in favour of another book featuring a Bat symbol or an S crest. That is not so much the case anymore but when anybody mentions DC Comics the first image that pops into my head is the Green Lantern symbol. I love the symbol so much I chose it as part of the first tattoo I ever got and my study is bedecked in Green Lantern ephemera.

So I should be psyched that after the disaster that was Green Lantern in 2011 Warner have decided to pony up and go back to Oa and feature numerous Lanterns and not just one, right? No. If anything I am more concerned than ever that it will be a disaster. I know it is cliche that geeks hold on too tightly to properties that they do not own, and I feel that I am pretty reasonable when amendments, nips and tucks are made to comic properties for the change to another medium. However, for a company that owns a comic book publisher Warner have made historically bad comics book movies. Contentious statement, I know. I can feel the hate bristle from people over certain movies. I did not say all movies, just the majority of the movies they have made have been very wide of the mark. I don’t know why that is, considering the amount of talent working at DC Comics that could easily have been drawn upon to assist in translating the properties.

For every Superman there is a Catwoman and for every Batman Begins there is a Batman and Robin. There are some obviously outstanding films they have made like The Dark Knight and Superman II but when they miss the mark it is done spectacularly. Things certainly seem to have picked up recently, and that is certainly a credit to them and the people they have worked with on those successes but a title like Green Lantern Corps, which will require real finesse to bring to the screen to avoid the pitfalls of the first effort, still seems so far removed from the films they have made.

The films which have been made overwhelmingly feature characters from the Superman or Batman universes, and now there is a film with both, at the expense of any real investment in the rest of DC’s wonderfully diverse stable of characters. The failure of Green Lantern in 2011 I am sure did not help with the enthusaism for bringing any other characters to the screen such as The Flash, Martian Manhunter, Aquaman or Shazam. The announcement of the slate of projects last year was great to hear as a fan of some of those characters and I look forward to seeing what will happen with each of the titles. It certainly is a good move to introduce some of the characters in Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice so the world can perhaps get a glimpse of them and maybe get an inkling to go see their solo film.

I remember someone telling me the best indicator of future behaviour is past behaviour and so I can only look at the colossal missteps made in some of those previous movies. Given the concept of Green Lantern, and that it can feel quite cheesy and tacky if you are not familiar with it, I hope they pull from that wonderful resource that is DC Comics because I can think of no better people to adapt the material than the seasoned pros who have been working with the characters for so long.

A friend asked me if I was excited by the Green Lantern announcement and they were surprised when I told them I was more concerned than anything, and I know that is ridiculous as it is only an adaptation of a comic book. As always, the people involved in the film will be steering where it goes, and none of them have been announced yet and the film is still five years away. So, I wait, not with baited breath but eager to hear who helms the film, who will be writing the screenplay and ultimately who they cast.

Hopefully it will be more Brightest Day than Blackest Night.

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Alien (1979 Theatrical version)

Full disclosure: Alien is my favourite film. It has been since I was 17, so that means for around 16 years I have held it in higher regard than any other film I have seen. I was barely in my teens and was pretty terrified, but being at that age, and in the nineties when everything was about guns and explosions, I preferred Aliens to it’s predecessor. It was only when I was a few years older I saw Alien again, and as I was past the phase of Bang & Boom and my tastes were becoming more refined, I was able to appreciate the full range and artistic values of Alien.

One thing I have never liked in cinema is genre classification. I hate it. I think it demeens a work, hell, not just in cinema, but any art. If it can’t be put into a specific little box then executives worry that they will be unable to market the film towards its appropriate audience. It seems that some crave classification so they know if a film or book or whatever applies to them or not. I hate this limiting view of any piece of art. Yes, this blog is about a specific genre but I did not create it or try to force the films into boxes to begin with and to this day when I see a film I will try and avoid giving it a specific genre classification.

This is one reason that I love Alien so much: it defies classification. Yes, the film is set in space and there is an alien creature, so it is science-fiction. I have heard people debate over the years that Alien is in fact a horror movie. The suspense deployed and an individual stalking and killing an isolated group of people could be considered staples of the horror genre. The film was even re-released near Halloween in 2003. The film also works as a psycholigical thriller and as a drama arguably, take away the alien and I would happily watch a film about class warfare and a nefarious company pulling strings from galaxies away.

The film also has, arguably, the greatest tagline in cinema: In space no one can hear you scream. Simple, effective and provides no illusions that you will be terrified. The above poster is also one of the most visually striking and stark, it doesn’t have a single cast member or the fully grown alien. I always regarded the image as a promise, you were being asked to witness the birth of one of the great cinematic monsters. That egg was Ridley Scott’s promise that he would bring you something new. That slow opening sequence as the title is slowly pieced together in front of a planet is also wonderfully simplistic. No ridiculous text or names appearing in haphazard fashion, there is a steady consistency. That consistency would be disrupted from what was birthed from the egg.

From that egg came a monster unlike any other. A sleek and powerful creature that has acid for blood, two sets of teeth, incredible strength and speed and a taste for blood. HR Giger’s designs for the creature were incredibly inventive, a creature which seemed to be concocted from the most darkest nightmare, relentless and unflinching. The long tail and torso, incredible reach and terrifyingly silent the majority of time it is on screen.

Alien was released in 1979 and starred Tom Skerritt, Sigourney Weaver, Veronica Cartwright, Harry Dean Stanton, John Hurt, Ian Holm and Yaphet Kotto. A minimal cast, seven people confined within a vessel named the Nostromo who were returning to Earth with ore when they receive a signal from a beacon on a nearby planet. They investigate, to the majority of their peril, as paradoxically curiosity killed almost everyone but the cat. I have always wondered if that was a deliberate move on the part of the writers Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett.

One aspect of Alien that I have always loved is the lived-in nature of the world. From the early scenes where the crew have breakfast to every discussion involving “The Company”, to the bonus situation and the interaction of the crew on work matters it feels as though they have made this journey numerous times before. It could be any job, anywhere, at any time really. The way this governs the crews interaction is superb as there is an evident class divide between the flight officers, science officer and maitenance crew. The bonus situation which dictates that Brett and Parker get half a share to the Flight Officers one is a bone of contention to the point where Parker asks for money to investigate the signal before being told if he didn’t go he gets nothing. The immediate shift by Parker to agreeing to go is brilliantly done by Yaphet Kotto. This continues throughout though as Ripley discusses the repairs with Brett and Parker and they try and shine her on, make no mistake she is their boss and they are her subordinates.

Each character does have a role to play. Kane seems most adventurous, first asking if the signal is within walking distance and urging they go on when Lambert wants to turn back to investigating the egg chamber. Dallas is straight-forward and in charge, taking his instructions and seeing them through. Ash remains slightly detached and Ripley is naturally suspicious of him, and with good reason. When Dallas dies and Ripley assumes command and discovers special order 937 the mood quickly shifts and the scene where Ripley sits back to reveal Ash is terrifying. I still jump although I know he is there. When they piece him back together after his attack his message to the remaining crew is chilling: “I admire its purity. A survivor. Unencumbered by conscious, remorse or delusions of morality.” In effect, the ultimate killing machine.

As well as the birth of the Xenomorph Alien also provided one of cinema’s best female heroes in Ellen Ripley. The true survivor of Alien. She was recently voted as one of the top five characters in cinema in Empire, and deservedly so. Sigourney Weaver plays her with a strength and determination and also intelligence that defined the character as one of the greats. Ellen Ripley is unique regadless of comparisons with Sarah Connor.

I have another confession to make: Ridley Scott is one of my favourite directors. I have long debated what I like about Prometheus and The Counsellor when others continue to tell me they have no redeeming features. As a result it does leave me with Ridley-tinted spectacles so to speak (evidenced in the fact also that two of his films are on that list of ten). It can’t be argued how good Alien looks though. Nigh on flawless, the camera moves elegantly through the Nostromo in those opening shots and holds on that wonderful scene where the crew are awakened from their cryosleep. The scale he manages to create as Dallas, Kane and Lambert enter the derelict spacecraft and when Kane discovers the egg chamber underneath. The pilot, dead in his chair, they discover as the camera moves away leaving you with questions (I remember rewinding that part and watching it over and over coming up with theories about where the creature was from) that you felt would never be answered. There is also the hostility of the planet, debris and noise imposing itelf on its visitors and yet in between that he fills three seconds or so with the image of a beautiful moon and just for that time there is silence. All calm before the storm of course before he keeps the camera low through most of the scenes in the Nostromo’s never-ending corridors creating a sense of claustrophobia and suspense as the crew hunt the hunter. Those lovely shots in the airlocks as Dallas meets his fate and then the immediacy of Ripley’s escape from the destroyed Nostromo in the shuttle.

Jerry Goldsmith’s score is also wonderfully subtle and never overpowers the film at any point, which is something perhaps some people could learn from, that less, is in fact, more. It punctuates those opening scenes of awakening from cryosleep and the descent to the planet’s surface beautifully before becoming sinister and then emphatic as the tension and suspense is racked up as we are hunted. Those frenzied scenes with motion sensors beeping, ducts shooting air and alarms blaring “self-destruct” are brilliantly composed and work in tandem with Scott’s visuals to create urgency. Doom is impending. Everytime I watch Alien I feel as though I am treated to a truly cinematic experience, visual and audio and emotion, the real three dimensions of cinema.

The larger point about science-fiction though, as mentioned in my previous post is humanity, and the opporunity it provides to tell stories of the human spirit. When I watch Alien I always ask myself who the real villain of the piece is? The Xenomorph is an external manifestation and is incapable of displaying humanity, much like Ash is an android and is limited by programming and his malfunctioning parts. The real villain is The Company. They are ever-present in the film without ever being given a face or name. To me that is an analog for an oppressive government or corporation who looks not at the human being but rather a statistic, a number to be quantified and counted. What is the cost of bringing the organism back? As many human lives as necessary. Crew expendable.

Ultimately, I believe Alien ranks among the greatest of cinema’s achievements. It currently sits at 97% on Rotten Tomatoes and is considered a classic by many and has inspired several filmmakers. It’s legacy will ultimately be that of Ellen Ripley, the survivor, and the Xenomorph, the ultimate killing machine but it is also visually stunning and terrifying and taps into that most base fear of the unknown. It will always be a gift to cinema and one I am incredibly thankful for.

Until next time, this is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.

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Science-Fiction - Cinema’s Greatest Genre?

A disclaimer before we begin, perhaps? I have phrased the above as a question, although I know the answer: Yes. Personally, science-fiction is the greatest genre of cinema that exists and surpasses all other genres by some distance. I am not trying to disparage any other genre, each of which has their own merits, I simply believe that science-fiction is the most powerful and thematic genre in cinema.

A tendency exists to over-simplify the genre of cinema known as science-fiction. It is a misconception by a majority of people that science fiction conforms to certain limiting stereotypes. As a result there is a deluge of poor science fiction cinema that rains from Hollywood studios like a Seattle spring shower. The need to have major blockbusters conform to these stereotypes means that narrative is lost at the expense of special effects, action set-pieces and the hope of a franchise being born to continue a story in numerous sequels, prequels and spin-offs.

I believe that as a result of that over-simplification we have lost that which science-fiction can help us understand: Our humanity. Hefty, pretentious and as lofty as that statement may seem, science-fiction has always used futuristic settings, bizarre aliens and incredible devices as backdrop to that most basic human study. Unfortunately, most of that narrative has been lost in formulaic movies that drown out that voice.

Obviously not every film explores this theme specifically, but there are greats within the genre that have served to create a context and universe to better help us understand our place among the stars, amongst our fellow man and how far we have advanced. I would hold these greats, Alien, Blade Runner, 2001: A Space Odyssey and others, amongst not just the greatest in this genre but as some of the greatest within cinema.

Given that I very rarely sleep properly I have dedicated some time to revisiting what I class as the most essential films in science-fiction and I will expand upon them on this blog. It would seem that 140 characters is not enough to contain me or my incoherent ramblings and I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep evidently.

I will probably use this to put up my thoughts on films I go see, books I read and comics I am picking up, but at the moment my mind is fixed on these films. They are: Alien, Blade Runner, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Metropolis, The Matrix, The Terminator, Inception, Akira, Ghost in the Shell and Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.

A subjective list no doubt, but each has a specific place and reason for being there. Much like any list, it is tainted by our own experiences and perspectives. So, first blog post, hopefully not my last.