Most of what I read these days is for professional reasons, so I can’t always talk about it here. Sometimes it’s for another website, and sometimes it’s something that isn’t even out yet. I try to set aside time every day to read, and during the week that’s my work. But especially on the weekends I try to read things for myself. Recently, I went back and re-read the first of The Dresden Files, Storm Front, by Jim Butcher.

Even though there are many other books that I’ve never read before that I want to and intend to read.
Someday.

I’ll never forget back in 2009 when I was exploring a new-to-me library (which was literally right out my backdoor) and noticing Storm Front on a display. It promised something to the effect of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets Philip Marlowe” and I was all in. I’d just moved into a garden level studio apartment (like Harry Dresden) and was living by myself (like Harry Dresden).The seasons were changing and the weather was wild (like in the book). I was experiencing a lot of change in my life, everything seemed fresh and new, with a texture that I knew would leave an impression on every memory.

And frankly, the book didn’t seem that great.

It’s a debut novel and, reportedly, the first thing Butcher ever wrote under professional guidance. Everything seemed a little stilted. I finished the novel and didn’t pick up the sequel until some time later. But then I was hooked. I burned through all twelve that were available at the time in a matter of months. By book four it’s pretty much agreed Butcher finds his voice and the series gets really good. Over the years, I’ve re-read all of the books at least once (except the most recent) and listened to many of them at random.

So I guess you’d say I’m a fan.

Storm Front introduces us to a wizard named Harry, but this one is all American made. He wears cowboy boots and a duster (but never a hat), has a temper and a libido, both of which get him in trouble. Being a private detective/wizard doesn’t really pay the bills in Chicago, so he also works as a “psychic” consultant to the local PD’s division, headed by Karen Murphy, that deals with the weird. Harry’s first case centers around some gruesome murders, a missing husband, drug dealing mobsters, and builds out his world.

The magic system is intention based, not pretty colors and metals (like some authors write).

Over the next three or four books Butcher does a better of job making the magic feel more organic and his characters less one-note (looking at you, Murph). And it’s the characters more than anything that keep me coming back to this series. Stay away too long and I start missing them like old friends. Good characters, more than spectacular action, sex, or magic (or, in the case of this book, sex magic), are what audiences want. 

Writing good characters has become a lost art in the mainstream.

Everyone in Butcher’s world has a moral framework within which they live and work. It may not be mine, I may violently disagree with their logic, but I understand it. So as I spend time with them I know what to expect, and when they justify doing something out of character it’s a cause for concern. And at no point does Butcher expect his characters convictions to become ours. There’s no preaching. We’re allowed to simply observe and weigh the consequences for ourselves.

That too has become a lost art.

So I’m sure that I’ll keep revisiting The Dresden Files for a long, long time. Reading them hasn’t just been entertaining, but also instructive. Now I write characters, even point of view characters, with whom I don’t agree. It’s good practice for interacting with people in real life, makes for better stories, and prevents me from underwriting the imaginary people I hope will become my readers’ friends. 

Right now Hollywood seems to be predominantly offering up two kinds of movies. There are the movies I call “content,” which are instantly forgettable and most people will never watch twice. These  glitzy movies check all the diversity boxes and have a factory made quality that provides all the heart, soul, and satisfaction of a McDonald’s double cheeseburger. And I’m at a point in my life that all I get after consuming one is the same regret I’d feel after eating assembly line food.

Avoid

The other type of movie we get is the reinterpretation of the established familiar, usually with a hefty dose of revisionism to appeal to some vocal minority. It may wear the skin of a sequel, remake, or addition to a shared universe, but ultimately it’s all the same. Too often ignorant screenwriters and directors use these movies as opportunities to tell fans why they were wrong to like what they liked about the original and preach a new set of virtues that run counter to the human experience.

Also avoid

Last weekend I had the opportunity to see Twisters, and I was curious to see which kind of movie it would be. The fact that it didn’t go straight to Peacock or another streamer was a good sign that it wouldn’t fall into the first category. Heck, the two leads are attractive white people, which shouldn’t be noteworthy, but it is. However, given the climate alarmism that’s infected just about genre film, it seemed like a shoe-in that Twisters would take a stance. In fact, when it was first announced everyone assumed that a weather-themed film would be nothing but a long lecture on how humans, with their cars and cows, are to blame.

Mother Earth is angry.

To everyone’s surprise, except for a passing remark early on about increasingly erratic weather, Twisters doesn’t go there, and the planet isn’t personified. Our main characters are scientists, and not in the self-righteous, Neil deGrasse Tyson way. No, they’re enthusiastic, inquisitive, and hopeful. Kate (Daisy Edgar-Jones) has a wound, Tyler (Glen Powell) needs to learn humility, and Javi (Anthony Ramos) has made mistakes, but no one is perfect.

Let me say that again: NO ONE IS PERFECT!

On the one hand, I want to commend Twisters for its understated approach. The assumption of the changing climate is put out there, and then they move onto the story. There’s subtle patriotism and respect given to small-town America, but we’re never hit over the head with it. But on the other hand, “understated” is sometimes just another way of saying “played it too safe.” This is most glaring in the resolution of the love story, or lack thereof. Kate and Tyler are clearly attracted to each other and have good chemistry. But the movie stops just short of a classic, Hollywood kiss. 

Disaster movies should never play it safe.

Ultimately, I think Twisters is a step in the right direction. It’s a cautious, hesitant step back into making movies that are just entertainment. We’re not back to the 90s yet, when Twister could be unapologetically fun, romantic, and absurd. And we’re certainly not back to the 50s when a movie could affirm heartland virtues without pandering. But Twisters shows us a beautiful section of America that’s been neglected for far too long, with decent people doing their best to enjoy life. 

And the country music soundtrack is really good. 

By now you should know my metric for a good movie is beautiful people in exotic places doing exciting things. Twisters checks all the boxes. Yes, Oklahoma can exotic! I like the movie. I like it quite a bit. No, it’s far from perfect. But if it’s a success maybe we’re one step closer to making movies fun again. 

All anyone is talking about right now is how Disney’s Star Wars: The Acolyte has been canceled. This is hardly shocking news. The budget wasn’t scaled to the potential audience of gay Star Wars fans, when anyone with half a brain knew it wouldn’t appeal to the wider fanbase, and no one but YouTube critics watched it. So it's not getting a second season. That such a nonstory is getting so much attention is wearisome and disappointing.

So moving on.

What no one is talking about is that The Ark got a second season, and it’s really good. If you check IMdB the fourth episode, “The Other You,” has an 8.4/10, which is far better than any episode of The Acolyte. That Dean Devlin and Syfy are quietly telling great stories, while the Paramount and Disney powerhouses are not, should be all over the YouTubes, but apparently I’m the only one paying attention to things I like and enjoy.

Shame on the YouTubers!

There will be spoilers for The Ark episode 4.

At the end of episode three, James Brice vanished from The Ark leaving only his empty coveralls. Naturally, everyone else in the room is shocked and distraught. “The Other You” opens with them processing what had just happed, before moving our attention to a cryopod releasing its occupant. It’s Cat! Wait, isn’t she dead? Isn’t actress Christina Wolfe signed to another series and therefore unable to come back?

Commercial break!

But we don’t care why or how she's back, because Cat, the former social media star turned ship’s therapist, is a great character. Also, between seasons she got even more attractive. That’s not the only that’s changed, as Cat suddenly has a British accent, which only makes her hotter, but now we are asking questions. We’re not the only ones, and those aren’t the only questions.

Looking out the windows The Ark, the crew realizes there’s nothing out there.

Like, nothing nothing. No space. No stars. Just void.

Eventually, the crew figures out that the faster than light drive bumped them into a vacuum between realities, where they neither exist nor don’t. Cat (now going by Catrina, and a brilliant scientist to boot) comes from an alternate reality. Which naturally means that Brice is now running around naked in her reality, where he also died. Bad for him, but an opportunity to inject some humor from the writers for us.

Commercial break!

I’m not going to try and explain all the science-y jargon they use to justify this situation and untangle realities. That’s not really important in stories like this. Rather, the focus remains firmly on the characters and the concept. I’m thankful that the writers didn’t go the classic Star Trek or Buffy the Vampire Slayer route where the alternate universe is full of evil doppelgangers, but neither did they make it a utopia. The alternate reality in which Brice finds himself is exactly the same, with good and bad, but different. Some people have better lives in this world, others have it worse. 

As Catrina and Brice share with them how things are different, everyone experiences some heartache for what might have been, or gratefulness for what is not.

That’s good writing.

Everyone is allowed to feel things as fully fleshed out characters. There’s love and hate, anger and remorse. The conflict that supplies the tension is frequently broken with moments of laugh-out-loud humor that feels entirely appropriate. I could have done without Felix kissing another man, but that’s the entertainment world we live in, and I’m left to wish for my own alternate reality where screenwriters don’t feel obliged to insert stuff like that. 

What I’m saying is, “The Other You” has all the elements which every episode of The Acolyte reportedly lacks.

And as such, it deserves some attention.