Tip of the Hat: The Haunting of Hill House (Netflix)

Just before Halloween, Netflix released the limited series The Haunting of Hill House, based on the 1959 novel of the same name by Shirley Jackson. The book already inspired an iconic film adaptation in 1963, The Haunting, and for my money, The Haunting is as good as classic horror movies come. It also inspired The Legend of Hell House from 1973 by way of writer Richard Matheson’s largely derivative source novel Hell House, and then a forgettable filmed remake with Liam Neeson in the 1990s.

And Shirley Jackson is a titan. Not only is her original book more than worthy on its own merits, but she also wrote one of my favorite novels, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, and left a legacy of short stories that belong on any one of multiple literary Mt. Rushmores. Everybody has to read “The Lottery” in high school, but the fact she has not remained a household name is a huge oversight. But...

I say all of that to say this: I really, really like Shirley Jackson, and was so worried the creative team behind this 10-episode limited series would swing and miss. I need *not* have worried. This show is a masterpiece. There are simply not enough good things I can say about it, and I regret I wasn’t able to get a review together in time to be relevant. So instead, I simply tip my hat to a profound, intelligent, and moving work of art. That’s also a real long horror movie.

A Masterpiece of Adaptation

Executive Producer and series director Mike Flanagan and his team of writers laid the foundation with a truly inspired adaptation. In Jackson’s original, a paranormal researcher named Dr. Montague assembles a team of sensitives to stay in Hill House, reputed to be the most haunted house in the United States. Hill House was built by Hugh Crain, an eccentric millionaire, and various violent deaths descended on his family, centering on the house. Montague hopes to prove scientifically that the spirits, and therefore the paranormal at large, are real, and assembles his team with the tough, worldly Theodora, the shy, reserved Eleanor Vance, and Luke Sanderson, heir to the house. It soon becomes apparent that Eleanor has a strong connection to the house, or vice-versa, and seems to be in danger of losing touch with reality or succumbing to the house’s ill will, depending on your read.

How best to modernize what has been called the greatest haunted house novel of them all? Turns out, you start with nobody knowing the house is haunted, and make Hugh and his wife Olivia house flippers with a big family. Let the original haunting and horror befall the Crain family and their little children, and then, as adults, force them to revisit the house after their own experiences have formed the basis of the house’s reputation. From little things, like names — the way Eleanor Crain becomes Eleanor Vance, one of the Crain daughters being named Shirley — to big character stuff like giving Luke Sanderson’s alcoholism to one of the grown Crain children, and plot moments that are either direct quotations from the book or subtle homages, I could simply go on and on and on about the decisions made to both honor the source material while fully owning a new telling with a strong vision.

There is a certain fatalism regarding human cruelty that runs through Jackson’s work. That is largely absent in the adaptation. There is certainly a fatalism — bad things, real bad things, are going to befall these people, through no fault of their own — in that the train is coming and no one will be able to stop it. But this family, however estranged from one another, have a shared love for each other at the core of their various relationships, and this pull provides the adaptation with a profound emotional shape and resonance.

A Masterpiece of Design and Direction

Episode 6. Ye gods.

The whole season is beautifully directed, but Episode 6 has an utterly astonishing long-take in it that took my breath away on every level. From staging, to conflict writing, to set construction, to blocking, to dialogue and performance, to surprise and terror, there is simply no parallel that I’m aware of in film. I know about Welles, I know about Hitchcock, Altman, Cradle Will Rock, Birdman, and I’m telling you I’ve never seen anything like it.

I could, and have, gone on and on in fine detail (wake my wife up and ask her), but I’ll leave it here. I hope Shirley Jackson would be proud. To steal a line from Ornette Coleman, beauty is a rare thing, and for this novel to succeed, and its film adaptation to succeed, and now this television adaptation to succeed on a bewildering scale...I am simply happy to be a fan that gets to experience it.

Posted by Vance K — cult film reviewer and co-editor of the Hugo-nominated nerds of a feather since 2012. Musician and Emmy-winning producer. And look, a bunch a damn Emmys better fall like rocks on this version of Hill House. Just saying.

Tip of the Hat: Pokemon Go

Occasionally, there's something that comes along that simply reminds you of the joy of fandom. The execution may not be perfect, but it's nevertheless touching, or thought-provoking, or simply fun. "Tip of the Hat" is our occasional series to shine a light on those things when we find them.

I am 38 years old and I am proud to say that I play Pokemon Go on a daily basis. While the initial popularity this game enjoyed early on may have waned, the game has grown and evolved in meaningful ways and has provided my family with a fun activity that we all participate in together. Plus it gets us out of the house and into the beautiful parks that our city has to offer.

Early Days:
When Pokemon Go launched it captured the imagination of millions of Pokemon fans and those who wanted to see what the hype was about. There were issues with servers, distracted walking accidents, and it was nearly impossible to avoid. I didn't plan on downloading the game, but a buddy of mine convinced me to give it a whirl so I created an account for my family and we sided with Team Valor. I didn't fully comprehend how big this game was until a friend invited me to go Pokefarming at a noted Charmander hot spot. We started around 10pm and there were drones of people wandering around in the dark staring at their smart phones. I felt like I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone and a local punk band set up a pop-up show at one of the Pokestops. 

Hitting a Wall:

After playing for a month or so I started to wonder what the point of catching virtual Pokemon was and did it really matter if I won a gym battle. There were rumors of events and legendary Pokemon, but they were only rumors. My interest started to dwindle, but I didn't delete my account or stop playing altogether. It was clear that Niantic needed to deliver on some of its initial promises.

Introducing Raid Bosses:

The first time Pokemon Go really mixed things up, in my opinion, was the addition of raid bosses. Bosses ranged from a measly Magikarp and went all the way up to legendary counters that would typically require at least four trainers. At first I would tackle the occasional solo raid, but I really wanted to try something bigger. When I lucked into finding a good raid, there weren't any players around. I learned that the Pokemon Go community utilized Facebook Groups and Discord channels to organize around the bigger raids. One weekend I gave it a whirl with my son and we were able to take down a couple of legendary Pokemon and had a really enjoyable experience. I finally saw the ability an app like this had to bring a group of people together. 

The Power of Community:

A few months ago Pokemon Go introduced Community Day, a monthly event that features a special Pokemon that will spawn more frequently for a few hours and give players a chance to catch a rare shiny version. For the Bulbasaur Community Day my son and I went to a local wildflower center. We saw some folks from our raiding group, chatted with about 20 other people who were after shiny Pokemon, and enjoyed looking at some flowers. It hit me that a good number of players at the wildflower center probably purchased memberships to take advantage of the gyms and Pokestops housed there. Check out the gallery from the last Pokemon Go Community Day here.  There are dozens of us! 

Research and the Appearance of Mew:

The newest feature brought the addition of research and really changed the way that my family plays the game. Trainers can engage in Field Research, a set of tasks you unlock by spinning Pokestops, or Special Research. You can earn one stamp per day on Field Research and unlock a special prize for completing seven stamps. The first round of Special Research has you helping Professor Willow track down the elusive Mew. You assist him with a series of tasks that become increasingly more difficult and are rewarded with the chance to catch Mew if you make it to the finish line. The story driven element was a lot of fun and my kids are thrilled with our new digital monster. 

I look forward to additional updates that might include the ability to battle other trainers, introduce Pokemon Centers, and whatever else Niantic can come up with. If you gave up on Pokemon Go a while back, you should consider hopping back on the bandwagon. What started as mindless drones wondering around staring at their phones has turned into an actively engaged community who walks around staring at their phones.

POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.

Tip of the Hat: The Wollstonecraft Detective Agency

Occasionally, there's something that comes along that simply reminds you of the joy of fandom. The execution may not be perfect, but it's nevertheless touching, or thought-provoking, or simply fun. "Tip of the Hat" is our occasional series to shine a light on those things when we find them.

This month will see the release of The Perilous Palace, the final book in the Wollstonecraft Detective Agency series of middle-grade books by Jordan Stratford and illustrated by Kelly Murphy. As the series concludes**, what better time to celebrate it, and tip my hat to a job well done?

As a parent of my children — and they are very much my children in the apple-doesn't-fall-far-from-the-tree sense — it has been a joy to read them books that I loved as a kid like A Wrinkle in Time, The Hobbit, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and watch them fall in love with those stories, too. And there have been other classic kid-lit books that I personally missed, but thankfully found in time for them, like The Phantom Tollbooth. As a kid I loved the fantastic, but I also adored mysteries, and I read (I think, without hyperbole) every single Hardy Boys book that was in print through the mid-to-late 1980s. So, I gave one of my kids one of the original Hardy Boys books a couple of years ago, and they put it down immediately. I opened it up, read a few pages, and then didn't blame them one bit. As it happens, there seemed to be a lot more distance between 2015 and 1927 than there was for me between 1985 and 1927. It's no wonder, really. The world has moved on.

Luckily for my family, this Hardy Boys debacle went down right about the time that The Case of the Missing Moonstone: The Wollstonecraft Detective Agency Book 1 was released. I mentioned the series here at the time in my Summer Reading List post, writing:

Enter Jordan Stratford, and his amazing "what-if" scenario: what if, as children, Mary Wollstonecraft (later Shelley, who invented science fiction) and Ada Byron (later Lovelace, who invented computer programming) had known each other...and solved mysteries. I'll be...ahem, my kids...will be all over this, and I expect the wait for Book 2 will be a difficult one.

They were, and it was. Similarly for book three, and there was an actual cheer that went up in my house when I told them book four was coming. These books are well written and fun, loaded with so many historical and literary allusions that while I seem to catch most of them (if I'm not giving myself too much credit), the kids are able to catch some of them, too, like the appearance of a young Charles Dickens.

When it comes right down to it, there are just a lot of things that this series did fantastically well. Certainly, they are good stories well-told and the books are all connected in a way that feels organic and rewarding, but beyond that, these are stories of smart, determined girls doing awesome stuff when nobody thinks them capable of it. The  books prize logic and scientific inquiry, and highlight actual individuals from history that left profound marks in the sciences and literature (and resources at the back of each book suggest how to learn more about these actual people). And, on a personal note, Ada is clearly on the spectrum, and raising a child who is, as well, I can tell you that it meant something very profound to be able to read passages in which another kid — the hero of the book, no less — reacted in similar ways to similar stimuli, and thought of things in the same way, and struggled in the same way in many of the same situations.

So I tip my hat to Jordan Stratford and Kelly Murphy. And while I'm sad the series is concluding, I'm very grateful to have one more trip to take to a pre-Victorian London with this group of kids, and my own.

** After we published this, author Jordan Stratford reached out on Twitter to say that, despite what the Penguin Random House page for the new book says, the series will not be concluding. We regret the error. 

Posted by Vance K — cult film reviewer and co-editor of the proudly Hugo Award-nominated nerds of a feather, flock together since 2012.

Tip of the Hat: The Arlo Finch Experience

Occasionally, there's something that comes along that simply reminds you of the joy of fandom. The execution may not be perfect, but it's nevertheless touching, or thought-provoking, or simply fun. "Tip of the Hat" is our occasional series to shine a light on those things when we find them.

A-list screenwriter John August decided he wanted to write a middle-grade fantasy series, and this month he has delivered not just the book, but an entire experience that, as a writer, I think is one of the coolest and most fun vicarious adventures I've gone along on in recent memory.

John August has always been staggeringly generous with his time in service of other writers, and so it's not a surprise that his podcast Launch, which has accompanied the release of his first middle-grade novel, Arlo Finch in the Valley of Fire would be another gift to writers. August has written a ton of movies, including the film and stage adaptations of Daniel Wallace's Big Fish, the Charlie's Angels movies, Frankenweenie, and he started his career with Go. For the last several years, he has also co-hosted the weekly Scriptnotes podcast, about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters. But long before Scriptnotes, he was fielding questions for IMDb from aspiring writers about formatting, writing for the screen, and the business of doing so. So for him to decide a couple of years ago to put that career on hold because he wanted to try writing a book, it was a ballsy thing to do.

It was also admirable. It's a shame so many of us are handicapped by a doubt that keeps us from telling our stories, in whatever form they may take, and he took a big risk to step away from a multi-million-dollar career in favor of stepping into the unknown. I love stepping into the unknown, but I usually don't risk much to do it. It might pop into my head, "I wonder if I could animate a music video?" And then I figure out how to do it, and then do it. All it costs me is sleep. Or wonder if I could make a horror movie for $500. Or I might wonder if I can write and record an EP about classic monsters in a week. There are many, varied creative journeys I've taken over the years, and through the Launch podcast, it's been a trip to go on one that had always been closed to me.

I don't intend to review Arlo Finch in the Valley of Fire, except to say, "Yeah, it's pretty good." I'm not a middle-grade reader, but I have kids who are and while it's no Wollstonecraft Detective Agency (oh, how I love that my kids love those books), I happily handed Arlo to my daughter after I read it and she's plugging away on it now. But Launch takes us on the entire creative and industry journey for the book. In my early 20s, I very much wanted to be a novelist. I wanted to land a top-notch agent (mine was definitely a few notches below "top"), and have publishers clamoring for what I'd written. I wanted to have those conversations. I wanted to see a book with my name on the spine in my local bookstore. It never occurred to me to think about going to the actual plant where the books are made, but all of these things occurred to John August, and he had a digital recorder along the way. So the seven episodes of Launch, the last of which drops this week, begin literally at the moment when the first Arlo Finch book occurs to the writer, through the writing, pitching, selling, and revising conversations, through the font selection for the final book (I love geeking out about fonts!), through watching the first book come off the line, then the release party and book tour, and finally the sales numbers and how we measure success.

I expected I might feel a pang of jealousy somewhere in this journey — after all, listening to an agent flip out over somebody's book isn't the same as having an agent flip out over *your* book — but that never happened, and I think the reason why it didn't is just joy. John August is so joyful throughout this entire process, and so willing to talk about his own uncertainties and fears, that each moment winds up being just so relatable and dripping with joy. It'll be a long time before I forget him exclaiming, "That's my book!" when he sees the first bound copy come off the line. This podcast is a celebration of authors, a celebration of books (which warms all our nerdy hearts here), a celebration of risk, and a celebration of just walking the road.

It's a joy. And the world needs more joy.

Check out the podcast from iTunes here and on Stitcher here. Or just play the first episode right here:
 

Posted by Vance K — cult film reviewer and co-editor of nerds of a feather, flock together since 2012, Emmy-winning producer and folk musician.