by Various
That's one of the many reasons I enjoyed the "sequel," 10 Cloverfield Lane . It wasn't really a sequel at all. Many science fiction fans will recall the original Cloverfield from 2008. Directed by Matt Reeves and scripted by Drew Goddard, it was a creature feature in the (quickly irksome) style of "found footage."
The audience watches a video that accidently cross-cuts an idyllic day of new love for a young couple with horrific events from a month later. A bon voyage party, fraught with romantic angst, is abruptly interrupted by blackouts, bangs and rumbles…and then worse. Revelers soon realize that monsters large and small have descended upon New York City.
The monsters show little respect for the Statue of Liberty and even less for the trendy millennials of Manhattan. With regards to the latter, I'd have to agree with the alien attackers. What I liked least about Cloverfield was the cast of characters. I found them hapless and more than a little annoying. Of course, that might have been on purpose. Although satire didn't appear to be a major component to the film, perhaps the filmmakers were simply trying to keep viewers from caring too deeply for the half dozen or so "lead" characters. After all, one by one, they were soon dispatched by monsters and mishaps, not unlike the teens in an eighties slasher flick.
While Cloverfield was no mega blockbuster, its moderate success, along with dropped hints and teases from producer J.J. Abrams and associates, soon had fantasy film fans eagerly awaiting a " Cloverfield 2. " What they got was something better. During his secretive hype period, Mr. Abrams called the second movie a "blood relative of Cloverfield. " And there is a relationship between the two films. But in terms of tone and themes and about ninety percent of plot points, 10 Cloverfield Lane couldn't be further from its predecessor.
As the film opens, a young woman named Michelle (the excellent Mary Elizabeth Winstead) hightails it out of New Orleans to escape a troubled relationship. Her peaceful, if spooky, late-night drive through rural Louisiana suddenly explodes, as her car crashes off the highway. When she awakens, she is on an IV drip and her knee is in a brace. But she soon realizes that this is no hospital. She is chained, on a floor mattress, in a windowless, concrete room.
As Michelle later admits, most situations of male violence and intimidation have heretofore elicited an impulse to run away. But this mysterious prison, with no escape available, brings out all the fight she can muster; much to the surprise—and grudging respect—of her captor, a portly man named Howard (John Goodman).
He tries to explain that he brought her to this underground shelter to save her. Howard claims there has been an attack of a chemical or nuclear nature and this well-appointed underground bunker is the only thing keeping both of them alive. Before long, Michelle becomes aware of a third shelter inhabitant: a younger man named Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.). And Emmett confirms that the deadly dangers of the above-ground world are real.
Michelle's gut tells her that Howard is a psycho. On some level, that appears to be true. Emmett, who helped the older man build and stock his shelter, says that Howard, a former Navy satellite engineer, is a "black belt in conspiracy theory." But, as Joseph Heller observed, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you. So Michelle, and the audience, are kept guessing about exactly how crazy and dangerous Howard is for a good long while.
The suspense of 10 Cloverfield Lane would never have worked without the subtle performance of John Goodman in the role of Howard. Although Goodman is best known for bombastic, larger-than-life roles, his Howard is a quieter and much more chilling character. One minute he seems well-intentioned and calm. At other times, the steely glint in his eye is scarier than anything the gigantic monster of the original Cloverfield could ever dish out. The actor's performance is consistently unsettling and brilliant.
But with an apocalypse likely above, what's a girl to do? Michelle eventually decides that escape might not be her best short-term option. So she uneasily decides to go along to get along, and the three leads settle into an off-kilter yet oddly cozy—almost familial—social unit. Still, no one will be surprised to learn that Howard was not designed to be a benign pater familias for long. And Michelle never loses the suspicion that her role in this subterranean clan may be far from healthy for her physical or emotional well-being.
Like a really good episode of the Twilight Zone, the chamber play that is 10 Cloverfield Lane will keep audiences creeped out and guessing right up until the final scene. And, as long as you weren't hoping for another "found footage" creature feature, you will likely be very happy with your moviegoing experience watching this un-sequel.
Director Trachtenberg told The Verge that "the Cloverfield 'thing' can really be this platform to tell really interesting and fun and original stories." An anthology of very loosely connected quality movies? Now that's the kind of film franchise we can all get behind!
And for another quality thriller that explores a much different kind of bunker mentality, I would also recommend Eye in the Sky. South African filmmaker Gavin Hood, in earlier projects like Rendition and Ender's Game, has already contemplated the morality of war and military action. That theme is also explored, in all its complexity, in this drama (written by Guy Hibbert) about the use of drones in antiterrorism operations.
Colonel Katherine Powell (steely Helen Mirren) eagerly leads an international counter-terror mission to capture several most-wanted jihadists in Nairobi, Kenya. They include a British woman (loosely based on the real-life "white widow," Samantha Lewthwaite, suspected of involvement in the terrorist rampage at the Westgate shopping mall), whom the Colonel has been tracking for years. But a surveillance and capture operation changes rapidly when those only tentatively identified as the suspects move from the original location to a safe house in an al-Shabab stronghold. Using a futuristic miniature drone designed to mimic a beetle, a Nairobi intelligence operative (Barkhad Abdi) is able to monitor the doings in the enemy outpost, but the area is too dangerous, and populated with too many innocent Kenyan civilians, for a traditional military raid.
The international team, which includes photographic ID experts in Hawaii, a tense drone pilot (Aaron Paul) in Las Vegas, and a committee of political overseers in London convened by a world-weary lieutenant general (the late, great Alan Rickman) are all in a holding pattern. That is, until the drone beetle observes young men in the safe house strapping on armed suicide vests. At this point, Colonel Powell pushes for a targeted kill mission, using the Hellfire missiles on the Predator drone. But the challenge of having such a clear bird's eye view of the target, along with crackerjack statistical analytics of shrapnel and debris trajectories, is that there is no getting around the reality of "collateral damage" and likely civilian casualties. In Eye in the Sky that damage is personified by a sweet little girl selling her mother's bread at a village marketplace just outside the walled terrorist enclave. The Colonel has no doubts that the body count for two successful suicide bombings make the loss of even the most innocent of bystanders a justifiable act. Others are less sure.
Since much of the movie is a policy and ethical debate around a conference table in London and via video and telephone link-up between the various players around the globe, you might expect the film to drag a bit in the third act. It does—a little—but only a very little. Writer and director keep the action (or lack thereof) amazingly taut throughout. The debate is passionate and intelligent, and it is punctuated with tense on-the-ground action to contain the danger and, if possible, save the little bread seller and the exposed Kenyan agent.
Viewers will not be shocked to learn that the characters least likely to agonize about killing the innocent are Americans. These include a Secretary of State (Michael O'Keefe) who is only peeved that anyone would interrupt his ping pong match in China for a matter so trivial. Still, to be fair, the people who agonize most about the missile strike are also Americans, Paul's drone pilot and his rookie partner (Phoebe Fox).
Technology is, in the end, a blessing and curse…as we always knew it was. It makes killing easie
r to accomplish, but not easier to live with. It seems appropriate that one of the final lines of this excellent suspense film is delivered by Alan Rickman, in his last screen performance. "Never tell a soldier he does not know the cost of war," he tells an angry policy wonk. Whether they are in the trenches, or safely tucked away in a beige trailer in the Nevada desert, the soldiers are all too keenly aware of that cost.
For those interested in finding a film about the politics of terror for the whole family, I actually do, believe it or not, have a suggestion. And that is the fine animated hit, Zootopia. This adorable Disney cartoon about a plucky little bunny, Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin), who dreams of being a heroic police officer in a city with twelve ecosystems, where lion and lamb-child finally live in peaceful harmony, is actually more thought-provoking than it might first appear.
It seems that certain members of the predator class—otters, panthers and the like—have started disappearing soon after they experience violent, psychotic outbursts. In an elaborate plot involving Mafiosi, government cover-ups, and potent botanicals, newbie officer Hopps is assisted, most reluctantly, by a flimflamming fox (Jason Bateman) in restoring peace to her anxious city.
Although Zootopia was clearly written and produced before the 2016 presidential race geared up, this kiddie flick is oddly prescient in its contemplation of the dangerous opportunism of political fear-mongering and its unsettling impact on society. And perhaps the movie will also inspire a discussion or two about the stereotyped roles of police as heroes, sexist bureaucrats, and fat, donut-chomping dopes. As a vegetarian, I came up with an additional issue to consider. I kept wondering about what the predators in this charming animated tale ate, now that society frowned upon them chowing down on their sheep and gazelle neighbors and co-workers. Are there factory farms located just outside of Zootopia where poor cows and chickens are bred and slaughtered for the hygienic meals of the lions and polar bear residents of our urban eden? If so, then I fear that Zootopia is just another failed utopia, like all the rest.
But, hey, don't worry. If you only want to view Zootopia as a cheery little feature cartoon, full of the frolicking anthropomorphic critters Disney excels in creating, it works perfectly well on that level, too.
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SCIENCE
By Pat Murphy & Paul Doherty | 2945 words
OUR SUPER COOL SOLAR SYSTEM
THE SOLAR system, taken as a whole, is a very cool place.
We mean that quite literally. Spacecraft exploring the planets and moons of the solar system beyond the Earth have found worlds ruled by ice—from the water ice on Mars to the icy moons and planets that are farther from the Sun.
Science fiction writers have long been aware that ice is very interesting stuff, and not just in drinks on the rocks. Science fiction has featured worlds of ice—from the planet Winter in Ursula K. Le Guin's Left Hand of Darkness to Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back.
And then there's our favorite science fictional use of ice—Kurt Vonnegut's "ice 9" in the novel Cat's Cradle. This fictional ice has a melting point of 114 °F and a unique property. A single crystal of ice 9 dropped in liquid water will seed the crystallization of the water, even at a temperatures well above the melting point of ordinary ice. If a crystal of ice 9 ever touched the Earth's ocean, the results would be catastrophic. The entire ocean would freeze solid along with every body of water in contact with the ocean.
We'll get back to ice 9. But before we do, we're going to explore worlds of ice—starting on planet Earth, venturing into the solar system to discover just how strange ice can get, and returning to the safety of home, where you can make your own personal ice world, using your household freezer.
BRING ME THE HEAD OF MICKEY MOUSE
You've probably seen photographs of snowflakes that reveal the hexagonal symmetry of the crystalline structure of water ice.
Snowflake photos by Wilson Bentley circa 1902
The ice in each snowflake is made of water molecules arranged in hexagons.
Why hexagons? That has to do with the shape of the water molecule. Being savvy sf readers, you all know that water is H 2 O. Each water molecule has an oxygen atom and two hydrogen atoms connected to the oxygen. The molecule is shaped like the head of Mickey Mouse—with the oxygen as the head and the two hydrogens as the ears. The three atoms join to make a V shape, with an angle of 105° between the ears.
The bonds that hold each water molecule together are made when each hydrogen atom shares an electron with the oxygen atom. But oxygen doesn't share well with others—at least not when the others are lightweights like hydrogen. In water, oxygen hogs the electrons, pulling on them so they spend more time over by the oxygen than they do by the hydrogens. Since electrons are negatively charged, this means that Mickey's head (the oxygen) is negatively charged and the ears (the hydrogens) are positively charged.
The molecule as a whole is neutral, but it's what chemists call polar —that is, the molecule's charge is unevenly distributed. This has some important consequences. Four billion years ago (give or take half a billion), water served as a medium for the great mashup of organic compounds that eventually led to life on this planet. Water could act as a solvent for these compounds because it's polar and attracts molecules like sugars, nucleic acids, and many amino acids.
That polarity is also responsible for some unique qualities of water. Since positive charges attract negative charges, the hydrogens of one water molecule are attracted to the oxygens of another. That makes water molecules tend to stick together with what is called a hydrogen bond. That's why water stays liquid at temperatures where similar molecules that aren't polar are gaseous.
In liquid water, all the little mouse-head molecules are jiggling around. Cool the water to below its freezing point, and the molecules form into a regular pattern—with the hydrogen-ears of one molecule sticking to the oxygen-mouse-head of another. A regular hexagon that's perfectly flat has edges with angles of 120 degrees between them. The water molecules, with their angle of 105 degrees, get distorted. The angle between the hydrogen mouse ears opens up to 109.5 degrees, and the molecules then come together to make a hexagon that's not quite flat—the water molecules crinkle up and down as they form the hexagonal shapes that make up the snowflake.
If you have ever made the mistake of putting a glass bottle full of water in the freezer, you have already seen first hand a consequence of this hexagonal structure. Water expands when it freezes, busting the bottle and making a frozen mess surrounded by broken glass.
You owe that mess to the hexagonal structure of ice. Each of those hexagons has a fairly large open region in the center. In liquid water, molecules crowd together without such open spaces. That's why ice is less dense than liquid water. Because it's less dense, ice floats on water, and bodies of water freeze at the surface, leaving the lower water liquid. Fish and other aquatic animals can live below the ice in liquid water through the winter.
CRYOVOLCANOES AND STRETCH MARKS
Knowing this characteristic of ice has helped astronomers deduce what's going on inside some of the ice worlds they have observed. The surface may be covered with ice—but what's underneath that hard shell? If it's a liquid water ocean that is freezing, the volume of the planet must increase. That means the surface must stretch and crack.
Astronomers look for these stretch marks in the surface of ice worlds and find them. Take Ganymede, the largest moon of Jupiter, for example. The bright icy terrain on Ganymede is covered with grooves, evidence of the freezing ocean underneath the ice. Europa, another of Jupiter's icy moons, has a beautiful pattern of cracks, formed by pressure created by ice expanding below the surface.
On Enceladus, an icy moon of Saturn, the Cassini spacecraft documented cryovolcanoes that shoot out geysers of water vapor, salt water from the under-ice sea propelled by internal pressure. You may have seen a similar phenomenon in your own ice cube tray. An ice cube, like a planet, freezes from the outside in, resulting in a center filled with water under pressure.
Sometimes, the pressure creates a crack in the surrounding ice and then pushes water out the crack through the top surface of the ice cube. The result is a "unicorn horn" or ice spike growing upward out of the ice cube.
So far, we've been talking about the density of ice. As anyone who has been ice skating can tell you, another attribute of frozen water is its hardness.
Geologists measure hardness on the Mohs scale. On the Mohs scale, diamonds have a hardness of 10, the top of the scale. Talc, the softest of stones, has a hardness of 1. At 0 °C, ice has a hardness of 1.5, about as hard as lead. But as temperatures drop, ice gets harder.
On a visit to the dry valleys of Antarctica, Paul saw granite carved into fantastic shapes by blowing snow. The snow was below -40 °C and had a hardness of greater than 6. It was hard enough to chip away at the softer minerals in granite.
Remember this when you look at images of other planets. Images from the Cassini spacecraft show that Saturn's moon Titan has water ice mountains. With a surface temperature averaging about -179 °C, Titan's ice mountains are as hard as granite. They are eroded by rivers of liquid methane.
New Horizons sent us amazing images of Pluto that show water icebergs floating in a "sea" of nitrogen ice. You can think of nitrogen ice as Silly Putty—it flows slowly even at Pluto's estimated surface temperature of about -233 °C.
ICE OF MANY NUMBERS
The water ice we've described above is just one form of ice—the one you're most likely to encounter in day-to-day life on Earth. You just call it ice, but when talking about the many forms of ice, scientists call it ice Ih (pronounced: "ice one h").