Book Review - Dust (Wool Series)

Sit down and strap in, because the slow boiling prose of Hugh Howey is magnificent in Dust: the last novel of the Wool trilogy (a story about a dystopian future, where people live inside a massive Silo stashed underground—think Fallout 3’s vaults). 

SPOILER ALERT: If you happen to be one of the six people on Earth that hasn't read the Wool series yet, then go no further.  The starting events of this novel are the ending events in Wool, and we recommend you read Wool first before reading this review.

"Don't worry boy, I'm not going to eat you...yet."

STORY:

Dust opens exactly where Wool left off: Juliette as the crispy mayor and Lucas as the head of the IT department.  Everything is getting on just fine in Silo 18, except for the fact that Juliette's new plan has the populace split right down the middle.  See, Juliette wants to use the newly found digger and spare generator from her Silo to dig a hole straight to Silo 17 to rescue Solo and the kids.  But even though she's been outside and has seen the world for what it really is, her people still have their doubts.  Half the Silo is against her plan, while the other half thinks she's just a little nutty from being outside.  What's the new mayor to do?  Fascinating Sci-Fi, social issues, claustrophobia, and tense situations ensue.

"I feel like celebrating tonight, let's split this tin can for dinner.  People don't realize it, but 

a little ketchup goes a long way."

THOUGHTS:

If you've read Wool and it produced a warm fuzzy feeling running through your veins, then Dust will be capable of doing exactly the same.  Tension mixed with fear, mixed with crappy expectations is squeezed to the limits in the text, forcing you to turn the page and hope everything turns out alright for our favorite Silo friends.  Howey, as always, uses every word and sentence to their fullest, leaving even veterans of the writing population scratching their heads and wondering just how he does it.

Even though the book ends around the five hundred page mark, the story will fly by, and at times, might even feel a little rushed.  In Wool, every character emotion, burden, and ache was described in beautiful detail, creating an amazing relationship between reader and all the characters throughout Silo 18.  But in Dust, the story bounces around a little more than expected.  After brief check-ins with Juliette and her people, you'll be whisked away to Silo 17 to see what Solo and the gang is doing.  Turn to the next chapter and you'll now be following a few of the people responsible for this whole debacle in Silo 1.  And the entire book will go on like this, jumping from Silo to Silo between chapters, until the inevitable conclusion. 

The bouncing around isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it does keep the flow of the story moving at a brisk pace.  For instance, at one point you may hear Juliette talking about wanting to start digging, and just a mere chapter later we're already underway without much detail or thought behind it.  The upside to this is people who felt Wool might have been a tad on the slow side will enjoy the new pace of this novel.  But don't worry, the story is still fascinating and hits all the right marks, no matter what the speed.  It's just a little harder to relate to a character as you're pulled from one Silo to the next.

"You know, your mother thinks this shopping thing is easy.  I'd like to see her come out here in the

freezing cold and fend off maniacs trying to eat her...then we'll see who's lazy."

THE CHARACTERS:

When you have a tin can world packed with thousands of people, you are sure to get a few nuts in the bunch, and Howey really knows how to use this pressure to increase a crisis.  How would people react when there's a chance of no tomorrow?  A human collective will always split off into different packs of beliefs, agendas, and strategies.  And the societal breakdown holds the key to fear and escalating tension as each page is turned.  You know sometimes exactly how a certain situation will play out, but it's the way the characters react that surprises you and makes the story exhilarating.

There's also a change of perspective in a few chapters that adds freshness to the storytelling, and it comes in the form of Elise: the little girl from Silo 17.  She presents a naive look at a frightening world.  The verbiage also changes to simplistic words and phrases that create a feeling of innocence in the text.  And with Elise's lack of experience, also comes increased stress for the reader, because everyone is trying to take advantage of her.

"We may look cool in these suits, but I'm sweating like a pig here.  And the smell 

inside this...like a New York subway."

PACE FRUSTRATION:

Toward the end of the book—as tension gets to an all-time high—a few frustrating scenes take place.  Typically, when a story's end draws near, the action will increase, making the last couple of chapters fly by.  But toward the end of the book a funny thing happens: remedial tasks (worthless conversations and silly errands) are thrown in the way of the main story arc, bringing the momentum to an amazing halt.  Sometimes these conversations are almost logical, because they somewhat help with the final outcome.  But most of the scenes just seemed ridiculous, especially in a time of such immediate danger.  "We have to get out now!  But first let me stop here and talk to this person about life, because we seem to have a few minutes."

 

"Ad says: two bedroom with a great view and a nice breeze.  Hmm...must be the place."

CONCLUSION:

Hugh Howey takes great care in how he ends the Wool trilogy.  His beautiful prose wraps up all lingering story lines and gives the reader a feeling of fulfillment and ease when the last page is turned.  If you've read the other books in the series and have been waiting for the finale, then you're in for a treat.  Dust places an elegant bow around the Wool series, making all prior books well worth the investment.  The writing may seem rushed at times with some outlandish conversations, but it still doesn't take away from the fantastic story being told.

4 out of 5 stars (minus a star for slightly troubled pacing)

The 3 Stages of Gamer Maturity

WARNING: the following article is filled with sarcasm and humor, but it's also filled with a whole lot of love for the art of gaming.  Enjoy.

Ah, the simple satisfaction of coming home from school without a care in the world.  No bills to pay, no reports to finish, no mess to clean up—just you and a pixelated adventure.  Slipping a controller between your fingers felt like hooking your genitals up to an electrical socket, nothing but pure elation.  Enough to make you cry and laugh and sometimes…even throw the controller at the wall.  These are simple moments of absolute joystick fondling goodness.  But time marched on. 

You awake one day to find more hair growing in your nose than on your head.  You look around and discover that—holy crap—you grew up.  But only in the physical sense, because even though you can solve big problems like why the Wi-Fi is out, or why two small humans keep calling you daddy or mommy, you still haven't grown out of the need to level up a Mage or a Wizard or a Thief or—you get the picture.  You're a gamer, an adult gamer.  But adult gaming comes in stages.  And it all begins with a little money in your pocket.

"Perfect!  Now kill the hooker, so you can get back the money you just spent on the handjob."

STAGE ONE: THE MONEY ISSUE.

Nothing hurts worse than your parents telling you no.  And no amount of crying or pulling on your mother's arm will help.  So you suction-cup yourself to the video game display case and hold on for dear life, but it makes no difference.  When you were young, parents beating children in public was a standard and most of the time even encouraged.  As a result, you always returned home with nothing more than a sore bottom.

Years flew by and you finally obtained a job.  A mystical place adults travel to every day to complain about life and bosses and in return are rewarded with a paycheck.  This gave you a chance to venture forth to the electronic store and buy your own damn game.  You skip down the aisle and slap an entire week's pay on the counter in return for the latest platformer.  It's a magical moment, but it comes with a cost: TIME.  You now have the money to afford the fun, but no frigging time to enjoy it.  Why?  Because of all the newly acquired hours at your job.  Damn.  A loud ding echoes in the distance.  Welcome to the first stage of gamer maturity.

"I'm serious.  In that outfit, you look good enough to eat."

STAGE TWO: BECOMING A WUSS

It's 7am.  Your eyes are stuck open from no blinking in the last nine hours.  Your brain has shut down and is running on gaming instinct alone.  A, B, A, B, B, UP, DOWN, A plus B, FORWARD.  You eye the clock.  If you spend just another half hour trying to get to the next level, you'll have exactly eight minutes to shower, eat, crap, dress, and drive to work.  "You have died," has been displayed on the screen so many times, it's now burned into the TV.  But the necessity to beat the game has overcome all priorities in life, including relieving yourself.  What do you do?

You pull what any desperate gamer in this situation would.  You switch the difficultly from hardcore to puss.  Not because you lack skill of course, but out of sheer necessity.  Valuable time is slipping away.  And it's okay, because no one will ever know about your trek into wussville.  You'll never tell your better half, co-workers, or even best friend.  You'll just live with the shame and sadness of wussy gameplay deep inside your heart.  Only you and the pixel gods will know of this sacrilege.  But such is gaming life.  A loud ding sounds in the heavens, alerting the world that you have achieved stage two of gamer maturity.  With one final push you can become a fully mature gamer: a player that is easily crushed in online matches by nine year olds that squeal about banging your mother.

"You talkin' to me.  You talkin' to me.  Well, I'm the only one here--dammit!  Do you guys have to 

stand directly behind me all the time?  You're ruining my De Niro."

STAGE THREE: PASSING THE BATON

With money in your pocket and easy difficulty hiding in your heart, you somehow manage to find that special someone.  They make you laugh and cry and hide your gaming addiction until marriage.  And you realize this feeling is called love…or stupidity, depending on who's doing the defining.  But you don't only want an extra person sleeping in your bed.  No, you also need a miniature version of yourself running around, wreaking havoc, and smearing crap everywhere.

Against everyone's better judgment, you take the plunge and produce another human and find yourself at a loss, because you can't pick the gender or align skill points.  You wait for a ding, but nothing happens, because this isn't the final step in gaming maturity.  The love you have for electronic storytelling must be passed on to future generations, so says the pixelated text.  Only then can one obtain the rank of fully mature gamer.

"Ow!  It burns, it burns.  Hurry up and do the other armpit."

"Will you stop jumping around like a little girl."

"Are you sure the ladies like a smooth-shaven beast?"

"Just hold still."

So you wait.  And wait, until the tiny human can finally sit up without their head lolling from side to side like some broken Vault-Tec bobblehead.  You look at your controller and then at the smaller version of yourself and smile.  Cautiously, you push the controller toward their baby hands and can't help but feel sadness and joy at the same time.  As if you're passing on a part of yourself.  But wait…what the hell are you doing?  There's no way you're giving up on the greatest form of storytelling.  You snatch the controller back like a hungry convict with the last Twinkie.  The miniature person starts to cry and you cringe.  But then a light shines down from the heavens, illuminating the answer sitting right next to your gaming rig.  A second controller.  You dive at it like a fumble in the Super Bowl and then jam it into the whiny kid's hands and the excessive screaming stops. 

Three loud dings.  Congratulations, you have achieved the final step in gamer maturity.  And the best part?  You don't even have to connect their controller, because they're too young and dumb to realize that all their button mashing and slobbering does nothing.  Isn't parenting fun?  They're happy and you're happy.  The world is once again at peace.

"Jesus Chri--will you stop with the camera already!  Can't you see I'm busy?  It's not 

like you're the one snooping around, elbowing faces.  Why don't you go shoot something?"

"I am shooting something."

"Nobody likes a smart-ass."

END GAME

Some people may look at you like you have three heads and crap out of the side of your mouth, but other gamers understand.  You have an appreciation for pixelated storytelling that will never disappear.  Game playing may reduce in allotted time or even difficulty, but the amount of love will never change.  Gaming isn't a hobby or a bad habit.  It's a way of life.  And for better or for worse, till death do you part.


If you like this article, check out:

Why does "Gamer" = No Love?

DVD Movie Review - Better Living Through Chemistry

Better Living Through Chemistry is a dark comedy about how mixing adultery and drugs can sometimes…be a really good thing.

STORY:

Doug Varney (Sam Rockwell) has gone through life trying to please everyone, especially his wife Kara (Michelle Monaghan).  He eats when she tells him to eat.  He exercises when and how she tells him to exercise.  And besides running her father's pharmacy business, he spends the rest of the time doing whatever his wife tells him needs to be done.  But all of that comes to a dramatic halt when Doug knocks on Elizabeth's (Olivia Wilde) door to deliver a prescription.  All of Doug's insecurities and worries go completely out the window, because Elizabeth is a trophy wife and she needs attention.  And Doug just happens to be the perfect attention.  Chemistry—in every sense of the word—takes over and Doug's life quickly begins to spiral out of control.  Adultery, medications, curious unicorns, fecal smearing, ninja code, and spandex bike riding ensue.

What?  You act like you've never seen a man trying to better himself through a healthy workout.

THOUGHTS:

Sam Rockwell is one of the most underrated actors in Hollywood.  Now, if you just read that sentence and thought, "Who the hell is Sam Rockwell?" then maybe this movie isn't for you.  Rockwell is the whole story, and if you can't stand the actor or don't find anything he does funny—especially his darker comedies like Seven Psychopaths or Choke—then there's no need to read any further.  But if you think the man is one hell of a character actor, then this movie should definitely be on your watch list.

Better Living Through Chemistry is a comedy that pokes fun at just about every facet in life.  The movie starts innocent enough, by showing Doug getting shot down by his wife in the first 30 seconds of film.  And as the minutes roll by she just treats him worse and worse.  But then he meets Elizabeth, who easily teaches him about all the niceties he's been missing in life, like taking drugs (Doug knows all about mixing them for different highs, lows and effects, but never thought to try his own supply), rough sex, style, wreaking havoc, and dancing in your underwear.  And watching Rockwell transition from a nice, sweet Doug, into a kiss-my-ass-I'll-do-what-I-want Doug is extraordinary.  He becomes the funniest prick you'll ever meet and the movie really begins to shine because of these scenes.

"You're going to have to speak up, because the Xanax I just snorted 

has clogged my ears."

Olivia Wilde is cast as Elizabeth Roberts, a reckless wife with blasé manners, alcoholic tendencies, a vulgar mouth, and extremely high eyebrows.  Wilde fits the role of rich, exotic, medicated seductress perfectly, and after seeing her in lingerie, not even nice-guy Doug can turn her down.  The chemistry between the two is classic, and when they start downing more and more pills without worrying about consequences, the movie goes from smart comedy to over-the-top hilarity.  Sure, the old cliché, "let's get rid of the rich husband (played by Ray Liotta, who surprisingly, does not portray a mobster) so we can run away together with all his money" does come up, but it’s not a main plot line.  And it's also written with a twist, adding a refreshing take on an over-used idea.

The only miscast seems to be Michelle Monaghan as Doug's wife.  Now, Monaghan is perfect as a wife or girlfriend or generally a nice person, but when her role is for an ass-hat better-half, something seems off.  Most of her scenes require her to be nutty and mean to Doug, but when you look at her face, all it says is sweet and loving.  So it becomes hard to hate the character like the film suggests.  It's a shame too, because her acting is flawless, but she never quite fills the role of Kara Varney until the very last couple of scenes.

"Listen, I know you're trying to be cool, but me and you both know the fro and 

sideburns motif died decades ago."

Then there's the voice-over.  But it's not some gentle British fellow telling you the story of Doug Varney.  And it's definitely not one of the main characters either, like Doug's wife or mistress.  Hell, it's not even Doug.  It's Jane Fonda.  And now you're probably wondering, "Why the hell is Jane Fonda telling the story of Doug Varney?"  And the extremely well thought-out answer is who the hell knows.  It makes no frigging sense and is completely unnecessary.  Unfortunately, it happens throughout the entire movie, but doesn't take away from the film's good qualities.

The ending may be the only problem you have with the film.  In the home stretch, Doug turns a little angry, which doesn't fit the dark comedic attitude he's been displaying throughout.  There's also the manner in which all the plot lines merge at the end.  So if you're looking for a total train wreck, you might be a tad disappointed.  But none of that matters, because the film's humor and acting outweighs the slightly troubling resolution.

"Hey, kids!  This is what it looks like when you try to stick your wang into an electrical socket."

"What's a wang?"

  "Oh, and say no to drugs."

CONCLUSION:

Better Living Through Chemistry answers the age old question: What would happen if I just didn't give a crap anymore?  It'll also show you what to do with all those ninja stars you've been collecting over the years.  But true gratification doesn't come until you watch Sam Rockwell shutdown an insult by spewing in public the medication the person has been rubbing on their anus.  It's these little delights that make Better Living Through Chemistry a real treat.  So if you don't find Sam Rockwell funny or talented, then please stay as far away from this movie as possible.  For everyone else, enjoy the Rockwell roller coaster ride of acting.

3.5 out of 5 Stars (minus 1 1/2 stars for Fonda and uneven ending)

DVD Movie Review - Back in the Day

Back in the Day stumbles down a few familiar roads, but still has enough surprises hidden up its sleeve that it doesn't fall completely flat on its face.

STORY:

Jim Owens (Michael Rosenbaum) an out of work actor, who continually auditions for his next big thing, is tired…Tired of his current failed acting career, tired of his girlfriend, tired of his living space, and especially tired of his choices in life.  When an invitation arrives for his high school reunion, he doesn't think twice about heading back to the small town of his childhood.  There to welcome him are old jokes, best friends, and his first love, Lori (Morena Baccarin).  Once back, Jim turns everyone's life upside down as he attempts to fix his own.  Pregnant bar shots, wiffle ball games, line dancing, mischief, and ass fragments ensue.

"It's okay.  Just let it out."

"I don't know...I just--I've been in love with you since you played a space prostitute 

on Firefly.  There, I've said it."

THOUGHTS:

Rosenbaum wrote and directed this movie, so it's understandable when some of the inside jokes (most of the movie's moments, characters, and story are inspired by Rosenbaum's past) fly completely over the audience's head.  It's like telling a really hilarious story to a bunch of people that just stare at you, when you get to the punch line.  In your head, what happened was funny, but you end up looking like a washed-up comedian.  So to salvage some pride you toss in the line, "Guess you had to be there."  This is what happens to most of the plot jokes contained within the movie.  But that doesn't mean there aren't some true gems lying underneath the surface.

Back in the Day attempts to be a raunchy comedy—even from the poster—but it remains more of a romantic comedy than anything else.  It's the tale of a man trying to find his way through a time in his life when nothing makes sense. And the only way he seems able to do that is by trying to tap into his past.  To make it even easier, you could say the movie falls into the familiar plot: boy meets girl, they fall in love, something happens, girl is mad at boy, boy tries to reconcile and BAM—finale.  Along the way are occasional funny bits, relatable situations, embarrassing moments, and life altering decisions.

"Tell me you didn't say anything about our massive porn collection in the barn to Lana.  Tell me!"

"It might have slipped..."

Michael Rosenbaum is the star of the film as you'll experience his past and present predicaments through his eyes.  If you're only familiar with the man cast as Lex Luthor on Smallville, then you really don't know Rosenbaum at all.  He's actually the type of person always looking for a laugh or at least trying to create one.  It might even boggle the mind as to why he was cast as Luthor (even though he played the role perfectly) in the first place.  So in Back in the Day, Jim Owens is the perfect character for Rosenbaum.  Owens is the funny, witty, goofy friend you can always count on for a good time.  He's not the film's main joker, but does help with the humor delivery by adding perfect reactions and expressions where needed.  As for Rosenbaum's chemistry with Morena Baccarin, any man would be happy to have her as a co-star.  And Lex Luthor is no exception, easily falling for her charming smile.

Baccarin has the ability to light up a scene just by showing up in front of the camera.  And by having her attached to the cast, the film is instantly brought up a notch.  There's no need for her character to bring the laughs, as most of Jim's friends are the humor department.  So all she really needs to do is become the lost love of every man's dream.  And she's been doing that since Firefly, so fitting into the sweet, beautiful ex-girlfriend comes naturally with her flawless acting.  Harland Williams plays skunk, the "retarded" friend, and also the movie's biggest source of humor.  If you’re going to laugh, it'll be during his stupidity on screen.  Whether he's sticking fart fingers in front of his kid or jamming a microphone in his wife's face, he's sure to please anyone who enjoys silly humor.  Liz Carey plays Angie Kramer, the white trash comedic highlight of the film.  Her disheveled, pregnant mother character spends all her time pounding shots, smoking, and looking for love in all the wrong places.  The rest of the cast fades into the background, aside from Nick Swardson, whose tired jokes stopped being funny since his first Adam Sandler film.

"Holy crap!  Was that a chicken or an old lady?"

"I'm not going to jail for either, so floor it."

SO WHO IS THIS MOVIE REALLY FOR?

Back in the Day isn't a complete waste of time, nor does it become a comedy masterpiece.  The problem is it shoe-horned itself into a genre that only a small majority of people will enjoy.  Younger audiences can't relate to how much of a downer life can be, because they're still riding high on drugs, video games, and their parents money.  And the older audiences won't have anything to with this film, because there are scenes involving bouncing wangs, toilet papering a house, drunk wiffle ball games, and mooning while driving.  So the film's left with a 25 to 35 year old audience bracket that must like silly comedies, and at some point, must have questioned their own choices in life.  Anyone else will find this movie un-relatable and a humongous waste of time.

"How much dirt do you think we'll get on top of him, before he realizes we're burying him alive?"

"He looks pretty frigging dead to me, so probably all of it."

CONCLUSION:

Back in the Day dances to familiar comedy songs, but in the end, can surprise you with a few laughs here and there.  Will it garner a spot in your movie collection?  Probably not.  But if you're in the age bracket mentioned above and need a comedy for date night, then you can't beat the rental price.

2 out of 5 Stars (minus 3 stars for cliché plot and jokes...and for including Nick Swardson)