What happened to Sookie??

If I was Charlaine Harris, I think I would be a little pissed.  Very wealthy, and pretty pleased about that, but a little angry about how Alan Ball and gang could turn my literary heroine, an independent, spirited, smart (and kind of ass-kicking) young woman into a whiny, self-pitying, and pathetic female character who almost every character on True Blood, and many of the show's fans, seriously hate.

Now this post isn't necessarily a rant about adaptation and medium.  I understand that a book and a television show are different mediums, and so stories are told very differently in those two areas.  Ball's series' cannot possibly replicate the first person narration that drives Harris's novels.  I get that.  Furthermore, a television series will unsurprisingly take a narrative in different directions, and those directions can be dictated by television stardom, ratings, and a show's budget.  (There's a reason why the Syfy network's version of Being Human looks so much better than the British version--more money equals better effects).

I've even become pretty entranced by Game of Thrones, based on George R. R. Martin's beloved fantasy series, but I have almost no interest in reading those novels.  Everything I've read about his books suggests that the television show has greatly expanded some of the more thinly drawn and under-developed women's roles that are on display in Martin's series.  Part of the reason those roles can be deepened is because series television allows for the fleshing out of narrative and character over time.

So I'm not ranting that Charlaine Harris's books are so much better than the series, even if I think that they are.  What infuriates me about the show is that its central character, Sookie Stackhouse, is painted in a manner that makes her increasingly weak and ripe for humiliation.  For a little while I thought it might be Anna Paquin's portrayal of the character.  Maybe she's just not the greatest fit, what with her fake southern cadences and overly trembling lip.  But this week changed all that for me, and forced me to reflect on poor Sookie's transformation.

Just a little reminder to those of us who can barely remember Season one of True Blood; in the pilot episode, Sookie saves Bill.  In fact, she saves a lot of people throughout the first couple of seasons.  She is intrepid, courageous, and willing to fight for her friends (and sometimes for strangers).  She's not easily intimidated, and she's not afraid of the supernaturals in her midst.  This portrayal is not at odds with Harris's creation, and Ball and Co. are careful to allow Sookie the strength and fearlessness that are central to this woman character.  At least early on.

Fast forward to Season 5, episode 5 of True Blood, "Let's Boot and Rally."  To quickly recap, Sookie nearly dies when her "friend" Lafayette throws some ridiculous demon mojo on her car, and it becomes possessed and tries to kill her.  This event occurs after Lafayette tells Sookie that she's the Angel of Death and that everyone hates her (yeah, yeah, there's more to it than that, but I just don't have the patience to rehash the narrative lead up, okay).

Sookie's on her couch getting totally drunk and feeling tremendously sorry for herself when Alcide shows up; he's a hot werewolf.  They discuss various plot points that I don't want to get into, and they start making out.  Now Alcide is played by Joe Manganiello, who also has a role in Soderbergh's Magic Mike and is a real fan of taking his shirt off whenever possible.  This guy is cut.  Sookie utters some incredibly obnoxious line about how Alcide is in love with her, so she can make him do whatever she wants; this behavior is not cool, and places Sookie in a self-serving, manipulative light.  The scene implies that in Sookie's drunken state, she's showing her true colors, and they are not pretty.  To make matters worse, Bill and Eric are hanging around outside, voyeuristically watching and commenting on the action.  Ah, but things get even worse.

As Sookie unbuttons Alcide's fly, she then proceeds to throw up all over his feet.  Immediately thereafter, Bill and Eric are shown in her bedroom doorway, and Eric wryly comments, "Alcide, you sure know how to treat a lady."  Yep.

I suppose this scene is intended to be funny, but at that moment I hit pause and started ranting, and clearly I'm still angry.  How could an admirable woman character crafted so carefully by a woman writer become a cross between a pathetic laughingstock and a mean-spirited harpy?  Is HBO, with shows like Girls and Veep, now female humiliation central?  I have a long, long laundry list of complaints about True Blood, but I just don't want to spend my time going there.  What I will say is that while I respect Charlaine Harris's decision to let Ball & Co. take the show in their own directions, I would love it if she got resoundingly pissed and took them to task for transforming Sookie into this pathetic, unlikeable hot mess. GRRRRR.  Bring back a Sookie Stackhouse that one can respect and admire, okay?  Okay?!

ANOTHER EARTH--Mike Cahill (2011)

Sometimes films sit in my Netflix queue a little too long, and they become sorely neglected (with 481 films and television shows listed, something's bound to be forgotten).  What's worse is if the DVD sits next to the TV too long; I'm on the 1 DVD plan at this point since their prices skyrocketed.  I have even sent films back because I was just not going to watch them (Sorry, Whale Rider).  I had read so many ambivalent reviews about Mike Cahill and Brit Marling's 2011 "sci-fi" film Another Earth, that it had been sitting around for a few weeks, forlorn and sad. Entertainment Weekly's Owen Gleiberman listed it as one of the worst films of 2011 (he gave it a "D").  Well, I'm happy to say that I passionately disagree with him (as I always do), and Another Earth is heartfelt, thoughtful and visually stunning.  This film relies on delicate acting and moving imagery to take viewers on a journey that explores grief, guilt, forgiveness, and redemption.

In interviews, Marling states that she co-wrote the scripts for Another Earth and Sound of My Voice in order to give herself complicated, well-developed, and thoughtful lead women's roles.  She succeeds wildly in Another Earth, for the entire narrative is subjectively focalized through her character, Rhoda Williams.

To summarize, the film opens with Rhoda at a party, celebrating, at seventeen, her admission to the astrophysics program at MIT.  She's feeling like the world is hers for the taking, and as she's drunkenly driving home, the radio announces that "another earth" has just been discovered in the Earth's orbit.  As she looks out the window, gazing at the sky, she slams her car head-on into John Burroughs' vehicle, as he and his wife and son are stopped at a traffic light. Rhoda kills his family, lands John (William Mapother) in a coma, and she ends up spending the next four years in prison.  The majority of the film takes place after Rhoda's release, as she comes to terms with what she's done.

**Some soft spoilers are ahead, although I don't think that the pleasures of the film are affected by my divulging some of the plot.

Although Rhoda has been legally punished, nothing the penal system can do can compare to how she can punish herself.  The past four years have transformed her into an outcast, riddled by guilt and uncomfortable around others. She asks to be employed in some kind of manual labor, and is hired as a custodian at the West Haven high school (the film takes place in Connecticut, around New Haven and its environs).  Rhoda quietly skulks the hallways, pushing a giant cleaning cart and attempting to disappear inside herself.  Unfortunately, she cannot turn off her inner voices.

Rhoda revisits the scene of the accident on the 4th anniversary, only to see a truck pull up and John deposit a toy robot at the site.  This lonely roadside memento is a devastating reminder for her.  In typical cinematic fashion, Rhoda investigates online and discovers more about her victims, and the lives transformed by that night.  Suicide seems like an option, so she attempts to end her life by lying naked in the snow; alas, she wakes in the hospital with severe frostbite and hypothermia, unable to shake this mortal coil.

She heads to John's home to apologize to him. Rhoda finds him bedraggled and hopeless, slipping into alcoholism and depression like an overly warm blanket.  Instead of admitting her place in his family's destruction, she instead offers a free trial of cleaning and housekeeping, creating her fictional employment at a local maid service.  He invites her in for the trial, and so begins a complex, psychologically fraught relationship between the two that serves as the emotional backbone for the science fiction context swirling around them.

Rhoda's presence does seem to pull John back from the precipice, and he begins to make and play music again (he was formerly a Professor of Music at Yale).  One of the most stunning scenes in the film is when he takes Rhoda to an acoustically sophisticated performance space and plays the SAW.  Yes, you read that right.  He makes a saw sing.  I'd never heard anything like it, but the sounds that emit from this TOOL are simply amazing, mimicking the human voice while simultaneously suggesting other worlds.

The existence of other worlds, especially another Earth, constantly presses on these characters as news and radio broadcasts discuss the presence of an Earth that is the mirror image of our home planet.  When a woman NASA scientist, Joan Tallis, attempts to make contact with this "other" Earth, she ends up literally talking to herself, sharing the same memories, upbringing, and experiences from the past with a Joan Tallis on the other Earth.

 Immediately, you can see where this film is headed, although in a subtle, reserved fashion rather than the usual science fiction bludgeoning one might experience regrading these philosophical quandaries.  Some scientists suggest that the moment that the other Earth was discovered their planetary synchronicity was disrupted, and that lives may have shifted during that causal event. In other words, the accident that occurred on our earth may not have happened on the other one.

The fact that Rhoda wins a contest to journey to the other Earth is perhaps the most contrived part of the narrative's trajectory, but on the whole, it works, and allows the characters to get to places emotionally that they may not have reached otherwise.  Rhoda ultimately makes an unsurprising sacrifice that brings her closer to finding some semblance of peace.  Still, the film provides a nice little twist at the end that highlights its profundity and thoughtfulness.

Another Earth is small and quiet, but resonates long after its beautiful images fade.  Some of the film's ideas were explored masterfully in seasons three and four of Fringe, but that show has the rhythms of science fiction series television.  This film is an hour and a half of well-constructed cinematic bliss.