LOST recap: Lockdown

Ok, kids: get out your official LOST Dharma Initiative Decoder Rings!
Funky symbols and creepy black light. What does it all mean?
Who fucking cares? This was a great episode, with or without any Dharma hoojoo.

Director Stephen Williams is LOST's go-to-guy. He has a way of bringing the best out of his actors, especially whichever character is being given that episode's flashback treatment. He's directed the very best Jack episodes, and he wrangled a moving performance out of Michelle Rodriguez in Collision, which is no small feat. When he's behind the camera, LOST feels more like a film than a TV show. The performances are more honest, the action hits harder. Which is no doubt why Lockdown was so amazing: the show's best director and the show's best actor, Terry O'Quinn, united. The range of emotion O'Quinn has brought to John Locke from the beginning is astonishing. At times, he's a mysterious, almost sociopathic, figure; other times he has a gentle grandfatherly appeal.
Then there are the times he beats the living hell out of hobbit junkies
(Yes, Charlie, former junkie. We know).
Locke, ever since the discovery of the hatch and the death of Boone, has been approaching his boiling point. He's not someone who can handle a situation that's spinning out of control, he's rash and panicky.
All he wants is someone else to believe in him. That's why he needed Jack to be the first one to push the button. That's why he so desperately wants Jack's approval. For validation.

When he meets his father at the hotel, he says "I didn't do this for the money", and he didn't. He did it for his father's approval, so that he could finally be 'good enough' for him. Only when his father is grinning at his haul and complimenting his choice in women does Locke feel secure enough to share with him his feelings for Helen. For John, it's just like when dad used to take him hunting again. The fact that they're hiding $700,000 from mobsters rather than strolling through the pasture means nothing to John.
He feels wanted.
Locke believes in destiny, in fairy tales. That's why he proposes to Helen as she's leaving him, clearly forever. Because he really believes that if he does that, she has to say yes. That this one magical act wipes away his deception. That moment of John on his knees, searching Helen's face for any sign of love, is devastating.
That faith, that belief in people, is also why Locke is taken in by Henry Gale.

We have our answer now, Henry is not who he says he is. But now we face another situation like we had last season, with Charlie and Ethan. Will Sayid blow a hole in Henry's face before he's able to give any information about the Others? Judging by the direction Sayid been heading, it's a safe bet that he will. And now that the word's out about Henry's presence in the hatch, how will people kept in the dark (or 'the loop', as Hurley says) react?

And where the hell did that big air drop of Dharma Initiative mac and cheese come from?

Anyway, I'd like to see Henry kept around as an informant, if only because I think Michael Emerson's been entertaining as hell. His pratfall off the shelves, right as the alarm goes off, was hilarious. And he's managed to play Henry just right, not tipping his hand in either direction. He could always have been a schlub from Minnesota who ran a mining company. You would have believed that.

In other island business, we get more Jack and Sawyer power struggles ("Should I get a ruler?"); Hurley says "Dude"; and for Christ's sake, Claire your baby...is...fine.

The Jack and Sawyer card game was especially fun. I always get a kick out of watching the castaways play golf or backgammon, or whatever, just to keep themselves entertained. It's one of the things that grounds the show when it gets too sci-fi or too soap opera-ish. It's also good to see Jack winning back a little of his leadership role after being sideswiped by Sawyer in The Long Con, and running after Michael like a jackass in The Hunting Party.
"When I want the guns, I'll get the guns."
This was LOST geek overload. The message boards are buzzing, I'm sure. Oh, did you notice:Nadia? No shit.
I told you there was a lot in this episode. And so, in true geek fashion I can only say:
Best. Episode. Ever.

LOST Episode 2:17; Lockdown: A+

New Comic Reviews:New Avengers, Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, X-Factor, Ex Machina

This is not Spider-Man.
That may be Peter Parker underneath that mask, but this hideous red and gold thing is not our Spidey. Did Marvel learn nothing from DC's ill-planned Superman costume change of the mid-90's? Don't mess with our icons, please.
Also, this makes three New Avengers with the red and gold color scheme:

NEW AVENGERS #17

The above panel is by new New Avengers artist Mike Deodato, who's done good (not great, good) work on Amazing Spider-Man for the past few years.
The Problem with New Avengers is that it's a Brian Bendis book, and that means mediocre. Not horrible, sometimes funny, always corny, bafflingly plotted, and deux ex machina? You bet!

This is a good group he's assembled: Captain America, Iron Man, Spider-Man, the ubiquitous Wolverine, the totally unnecessary Sentry, Spider-Woman, Luke Cage (once known as Power-Man, now known as generic tough black guy #59 in the Marvel Universe):I can assure, you, he pities the fool.
Which wallet is Luke Cage's? The one that says BAD MOTHERFUCKER.

Anyway: this is a good group he's got, but he doesn't seem to know what to do with them. He's got Spider-Man, Marvel's franchise player, riding the bench in all the big battles (it's like Phil benching Kobe! Kwame Brown ain't gonna get you to the Finals, pal). And really, through 17 issues there haven't been that many battles of note.
In 17, we meet up with this dude: Now, for those of you who slogged through House of M, you'll remember that when all the mutants were de-powered all that excess energy was released into space. Well, apparently it's returned and it's name is MIK...AL.

Ok.
So just as we might learn something about the nature of the beast, before we can get any clues as to its motivation: Ms. Marvel (Mizz? Yes, we have one of those now. Makes me miss the days when they were all just suffixed 'girl') comes charging in and manages to muck things up good and proper.
Like I said, this is a Brain Bendis book.You said it, sister.

New Avengers #17: C-

FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDER-MAN #6

We also have an Iron Spidey sighting over here; and another look at his new powers: those controversial claws. Or stingers or whatever they are. Spider-Man in his classic form was apparently a little too cuddly for Marvel. Every character, I guess, should be another Wolverine, even one that has a good couple decades on him.Art chores this issue have been given over to Roger Cruz, and he has a kinetic, Manga-esque style that fills in well for Mike Weiringo. The story is fun, about a Mexican wrestler (and me and my friends like Mexican Wrestlers) who must challenge Spidey 'Mascara Contra Mascara', with the loser unmasked in front of the world. There's also a B-plot running through the whole series about Peter Parker's old high-school nemesis Flash Thompson's return (apparently he was in a coma, and also apparently he and Peter were friends. Sorry people, I just got here).
Nothing is wrong with the issue, but it left me a little flat.I like El Muerto, and his backstory. I liked the art in general, though again there was just something missing. The story is intriguing: how much control does Peter really have over his new powers, and how will El Muerto save himself (from, hey...is that Doctor Doom?) without revealing Peter's secret identity? I'm sure PAD's got an ace up his sleeve. Pardon me, though, if the answer's not keeping me up at night.
Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #6: B

X-FACTOR #5

With Ryan Sook now only designated cover artist, Dennis Calero takes over full-time art duties (penciller and inker). And he is much improved over his first few stop-gap efforts in the series. I could quibble about a few things:What is she, a leper? Or a dalmation-human hybrid?

But those are minor things. Issue 5 is great, a stand alone issue in which Syrin (last seen beaten and left for dead) is kidnapped by a psychotic mutant who has lost his powers in the Decimation. We see the toll that the loss is taking on your average everyday mutants, and that they even blame the X-People a bit for not stopping it.This is Pulp Fiction as an X-Book (complete with ball gags, but no Gimp), and Peter David is clearly having as much fun torturing his female lead as Tarantino did with Uma in the Kill Bills. Syrin is hard as nails, essential to a group featuring so many characters filled with self-doubt:
"Ric? Just so you know...I wasn't afraid. Not of him. Not for my life. I wasn't afraid."
This continues to be Marvel's best book.

X-Factor #6: A

EX MACHINA #17

Ex Machina is brilliant, a breath of fresh air every issue. You can count on Brian K. Vaughn to spin every storyline into something new and politically daring. This is definitely the book to give your snooty cousin who hates superheroes. It's 2003, and the US is on the verge of war with Iraq. From his bunker, Saddam Hussein watches footage of Mitchell Hundred, aka The Great Machine; superhero turned mayor of New York City; and ponders whether or not President Bush will send America's greatest weapon after him.

SOLDIER:I don't think they'll send him here, sir. After the "Great Machine" stopped the second plane on 11 September, they gave him a cushy political position.
SADDAM: Patronage in exchange for half-assed military victories? Maybe this bastard and I aren't so different, huh?

Back home, Mayor Hundred isn't any more certain of his future than Saddam is. There's a huge peace rally planned downtown and his free-spirit aide, Journal, has quit to join in; rather than stay and become a political liability.The writing is sharp. It's a rare ability to be able to work political commentary naturally into the flow of dialogue without being preachy or obvious, but Vaughn manages a nice balance. And Tony Harris continues to amaze as penciller. He draws directly from photos of live models, which adds to the realism of both image and story. My only problem with this issue is that it seems so short. It's a quick read, and that makes you wonder whether you should spend your 3 bucks now, or wait until it's in trade paperback.

Ex Machina #17: A-

This goddamn miserable trip: The Sopranos Season Six

There are themes for every season of The Sopranos; whether it be family, business, or Season Five's two Tony Sopranos. This season; which is filmed as one and cut into two so that the very last episodes, while still a part of this season, will air in 2007 (whew...got that?); is about death. Specifically , Tony's death.
There is no other way to end the series, Tony has to die: whether through the treachery of his troops or by his own hand.
"I'm gonna put a bullet in his fucking mummy head!"
Welcome to the family, Anthony Junior.
Since the beginning of the show, fatherhood (not just family) has been the overriding theme. The way Tony has raised not only AJ and Meadow, but his 'nephew' Christopher; and what Tony's life choices would do to his family. Chris proved his loyalty last year when he had Adrianna taken out, and AJ is just now crossing that threshold between sullen teenager and angry young man (Also: are we hinting, oh so delicately, that AJ might be gay? The Jack White haircut; the interest in interior design; the possible eating disorder? This would put another spin on Vito's line, ""Maybe he was a homo and thought there was no one he could talk to about it...it happens you know.").
According to the opening episode William Burroughs monologue, AJ is "Ka, the double. The Ka, which usually reaches adolescence at the time of bodily death, is the only reliable guide through the Land of the Dead."
We're also shown that Meadow is the Khu, Guardian Angel (and Tony's only reliable conscience throughout the course of the series).
Burrough's monologue continues (but not on the show): "The Khu is responsible for the subject and can be injured in his defense-but not permanently, since the first three souls are eternal. They go back to Heaven for another vessel. The four remaining souls must take their chances with the subject in the Land of the Dead."
Tony will die, one of the kids may go with him (or both).
The first episode felt a bit rushed, but it had a lot of exposition to do away with. It may have seemed odd to focus so much on one soldier's desperate attempt to leave the life, but it was just another way of drilling into our heads that these are choices these men have made for life. There is no leaving. "No wonder the papers call this 'the year of the rat'".
Will Tony turn over to the feds? Or will Chris, who's becoming buddy-buddy with the feds who haunt Satriale's? Both are possible, but I can't help feeling that all of this political Mafioso stuff, who's ratting who out, and who's in power and so on, is all a red herring. It's not going to matter, in the end, who the boss is or where the power is, but what happens to the family: the real family.
So in episode one we get old mobsters keeling over dead in FBI cars; Bobby playing with trains; and Tony's battle with the scale (it reads 280. He takes off his shoes. Still 280. Takes off his pants...still 280).
But, as we've come to expect, there's a twist: by the end of the episode, Tony is crawling on the floor, bleeding his life out, shot in the gut by a senile Uncle Junior, reaching for the phone to dial 911.

The second episode was written by David Chase, the shows creator, and it puts Season Six right on track: the writing is sharp, the performances are great, the drama is real. The gut-wrenching sight of Tony's bullet wound, Uncle Junior's interrogation ("If somebody shot my nephew it was him himself. He's a depression case."), Christopher holding a weeping Carmela, Janice's look-at-me meltdown. Every note is right, every beat is true.

Tony's coma dream that occupies half of the second episode is about identity:

Doctor: What is your name?
Tony: What does it matter? I won't know soon, anyway.

Tony is on the threshold of the hell that Carmela damned him to way back in Season One. Costa Mesa is burning, the bar is 'dead' (hell as Southern California, only a New Yorker could write that).
When he meets the only person in the bar who knows the man who's taken his identity, he tells Tony: "He drives a Lexus...It's a joke, Infiniti, Lexus".
Kevin Finnerty is the other half of Tony, the half that will not survive the coma.

The light pulsating on the edge of the horizon: does Tony go toward it? Does Tony find his wallet? Is he forever trapped in the role of another person? Or, in the end, did that second person ever really exist?
Tony, his entire life, has convinced himself that he is more than the measure of his actions, that he is more than a brutal psychopath.
"Lose your arrogance", says the Buddhist monk that slaps him.
This season, Tony will not escape judgment.

The Sopranos Episode 6:1; Members Only: B
The Sopranos Episode 6:2; Join the Club: A+

LOST recap: The Whole Truth

Miracle, my ass. She may look like perfection, Jin, but she's lying to you, brother.
So we've got another baby on the way, though given the show's timeline it'll be into season four or five before she delivers; leading to some huge showdown with the Others, no doubt, with their hard-on for baby snatching.

This was an all-female episode of LOST, in that the writers (Elizabeth Sarnoff & Christina M. Kim) and director (Karen Gaviola) were all of the fairer sex. And, of course we had a flashback told entirely from Sun's perspective instead of the Sun and Jin flashbacks we usually get.
This was also a really funny episode: Rose and Bernard's bickering ("it's Saturday, Bernard!"); Jack and Locke's shower rendezvous (By the way, here's Locke staring right at Jack's little doctor); Sawyer reading Judy Blume; and Hurley and Sun's meeting in the jungle.

It's interesting the past few episodes to see the writers taking the characters back to their season one comfort zones: so we get angry Jin again, just when we need him. Since the first half of the season focused mostly on getting Michael and the raft crew, with the tail section group, back with Jack and Locke's camp (more on this adorable couple later); we saw a bit more of 'Han Solo' Sawyer and 'Chewie' Jin. Now that they're nice and settled in, Sawyer's again a petulant brat and Jin's a raging wookie.

A hell of alot happened in this episode; which is great because it didn't come at the expense of character development. Sometimes it feels a bit like they're spinning their wheels (I'm looking in your direction, One of Them); but at its top form, nothing on TV (except maybe the Sopranos) beats this show's writing.

Sayid is going to do something stupid, that much is clear. He's going very dark. And he's got Darth Charlie along with him, literally sleeping at his feet like a dog.

Ana-Lucia may be in like with Jack, but she's clearly more intrigued by Sayid, who is closer to her wavelength, in the same way that Kate and Sawyer are to each other.

So now to this wormy little fuck: Yes, Henry Gale is an Other. We know this, but we can't prove it. Like Sayid, we just know.
What it feels like we're leading to is Henry's confession. We almost had it this episode, but since we see his balloon in the sneak previews for next week, who knows? And it really would be more of a surprise at this point for the writers to go the other way with Henry, and make him a genuine nerd from Minnesota; to have him be telling the truth.
Remember though, since Grizzly Adams was revealed to be wearing a fake beard, the Others are nothing more than a skilled improv group (and we all know how soulless and evil improv groups are), so they could easily have put it there to help Henry's cover story. Lead me to the body is what they should be asking next.
As Sawyer said after he stole the guns in The Long Con, Jack and Locke were so worried about each other they never saw Henry Gale coming. He riled up Locke especially, who has been cranky this season (beat the shit out Charlie, didn't he?), and is getting crankier, judging by the tired disgust in his voice when he told Ana-Lucia "There's a man in my hatch and I want him out."
My hatch.

Next week looks great, and it's a Locke flashback. It also appears that the blast doors are comin' down and we'll get more spooky heiroglyphics. We've got practically every character on the edge, and three of them possibly in mortal danger. Should be fun, kids.

LOST Episode 2:16; The Whole Truth: A+

New Comic Reviews: Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, X-Factor, Bulleteer, Infinite Crisis

There are lots of good things going on in comics right now, and while they don't all necessarily revolve around Peter David and Grant Morrison, this round-up certainly does.

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #5

Freed at last from the story confinements of the ultimately useless "The Other" arc, Peter David and Mike Weiringo shake the cobwebs off and have a little fun (get it? spiders, cobwebs...sorry) with a one-shot issue about a woman who is convinced that Spider-Man is stalking her.
Weiringo and David make a great team, especially on lighter issues like this. David may not be the best writer in comics, but he certainly seems to be having the most fun. One thing I dig so much about a PAD issue is that they're so densely written (and his plots well constructed). Compare to a typical Bendis or Whedon comic which, with the splash pages and silent reaction panels, can be read in two to three minutes.
Weiringo's style continues to impress me. In an era of hyper realism and exaggerated musculature, it's nice to see his almost Saturday morning feel. Which doesn't mean that he can't draw a mean fight. In fact, his loose style is perfect for a fluid character like Spidey.


Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #5: A

X-Factor #4

X-Factor is all about secrets. Jamie is reluctant to unleash his doubles anymore, after one almost killed Rictor in #1. But he doesn't explain this to the rest of the team. Layla Miller joined the group specifically to keep them from finding out what happened in the Decimation. Of course, the only person she told this to was the hitman that met his messy end at her hands (kind of) last issue. Monet keeps this from Jamie, not so much as a secret, but in keeping with her self absorbed ignorance:
Issue 4 is good, if a bit spare at times. The problem lies in the art, which is split between the brilliant Ryan Sook and the, well, not so brilliant Denis Calero.

Really: what is this? That face is hideous.
But at least in this issue, unlike the first 3, the inking on both artists helps seal the gap between the two styles. It's not quite as jarring a shift as before, especially on the pages that face one another. But Calero's sense of composition leaves a lot to be desired. There are some bright moments for him, though: Monet's manipulation of Vaughn is well handled.
And the brutal beating at the end of the book is nicely done, again by Calero.
Still, the promise of a monthly book by David and Sook was what drew me to this book. I'll be sticking around for PAD's writing:

Rictor: ...I figure the best thing to do is get drunk.
Syrin: That's no way to handle it.
Rictor: How do you know?
Syrin: 'Cause I'm a drunk.
Rictor: Oh, yeah. So how do you handle it?
Syrin: I eat.

If Marvel wants to keep up with DC from a quality standpoint, they're going to have to give their artists more time and support than they gave Sook. But since Marvel's sales are consistently higher than DC's, I guess they have no real reason to do that.

X Factor #4: B

Seven Soldiers: Bulleteer #4

Bang, indeed. Holy shit, Dr. Wertham was right!
The final issue of the Bulleteer mini is given over to Alix's brand new arch-rival, Sally Sonic's origin. We follow her into the underground world of super-heroine porn, where she becomes an instant sensation for her permanently sixteen-year-old body. In her rage and confusion (and with a little help from Dr. Hyde's Evil Serum), she strikes out at the one person she blames for stealing the life she so desperately wanted.It's genuinely tragic, you really feel sorry for her. You...uh, what's that Alix?
Right: lest we forget whose book this is, or that we have an incoming invasion to think about: Alix proceeds to drop a fucking engine block on little Miss Sonic, whereupon the Ghost of Greg Saunders shows up to tell her that she is indeed "the spear that was never thrown" (which we pretty much knew), and that only she can stop the Sheeda invasion (but that's what he says to all the girls; oh, those wacky Cowboy Werewolves.); to which she replies:
So now, almost at Seven Soldiers #1, we have: Shining Knight charging after Glorianna, Jake Jordan ready to "take it to the streets" of Manhattan, Klarion on his way to the same streets to be a "a soldier", Zatanna summoned by Misty, Mister Miracle back in New York, but with no knowledge of the impending doom (besides cryptic hints dropped by Oracle and Metron), and The Bulleteer denying her destiny in disgust. Only Frankenstein #4 remains before the big showdown, and he knows the Sheeda well.
Leave it to Grant to play apart from our expectations by focusing on Alix's internal struggles and doubt in lieu of a Sheeda-showdown in issue 4. This series has been about Alix growing past her husband's mind games and sick betrayal. At the end, even though she's denying her larger role, she's at least standing tall. She'll be ready.

Bulleteer #4: B+

Infinite Crisis #5

DC's big to-do has been a pretty mixed bag. The first two issues left me cold, but I really enjoyed issue 3 and absolutely loved Superboy Prime's Teen Titan thrashin' freak out in number 4.
Number 5 feels like a place-holder issue, nothing of any real import happens here, at all. But there are some nice moments, like Blue Devil's skin burning inside the church ("Danny's a good Catholic boy. Unfortunately, he's also a human-turned-demon."); and the pretty snazzy Superman fight:(Check out the Action Comics #1 reference.)
But once Wonder Woman lassoes Earth-2 Supes, he just spouts the exact same lines echoing throughout Crisis and every inter-related title: Wonder Woman killed a guy, the JLA fucked with Dr. Light's memory, and so on.
Nothing new there, or in the appearance of golden-age Wonder Woman. In fact, that was just plain confusing (if the DC editors can keep this shit in order, could they maybe get started on Einstein's elusive Unified Theory?).
So we get a new Blue Beetle, in uniform. Here's what he looks like.And here, in case we've forgotten, is what happened to his predecesor:

Jamie Reyes might want to rethink that career move.
We again get the notion that Dick Grayson is going to be very important to the way this all turns out, but that story is just barely advanced. Instead, we get more of the hideous Photoshopped multiple Earths, and the return of Superboy Prime in what is without a doubt the ugliest panel yet in the othewise well-drawn Crisis.Where exactly did he find that armor, hidden away in the Speed Zone, fighting four generations of Flashes? And the pose is awkward, he should be zooming straight into camera, red eyes blazin', going after Alex Luthor's double-crossing ass.
Oh, but for fans of more successful cross-overs:
Tell me that's not our man Frankenstein on that bus in NYC.

Infinite Crisis #5: C+

Don't you know that you can count me out (in): V for Vendetta review

What, V worry?


Alan Moore, notoriously cranky and wickedly bearded writer of the graphic novel that V for Vendetta is based on, reportedly said that an early draft of the film he read was "rubbish".
It's a pretty good bet that most of that rubbish survived to its final incarnation. V is a mess, and not even a glorious mess in the way that something like Fight Club is: it's a not a failure of ideas, it's not a failure of vision, it's a simple and dreary lack of talent.
Watching V camp around the first half-hour or so of the film reminds you of what was once said about Darth Vader: that in every film of the saga besides The Empire Strikes Back, he just looks like a tall guy in a shiny black suit. There is nothing menacing or intriguing about V. The direction of the film is too basic for that. Not a mysterious creature of the underground, just some ponce in a Guy Fawkes mask who uses the letter 'v' endlessly. When he saves Evey from the Fingermen with his v-laced opening monologue, you just wait for it to end. And wait. And wait.
There's nothing clever in the dialogue, nothing interesting about the way the scene is staged or the performances therein. At this first, most critical juncture of the film, we are completely and utterly bored.
About those performances: Hugo Weaving, supplying the voice of V, does his usual wonderful voice-over job (he has one of those great attention grabbing, instantly recognizable voices); but the party leaders, especially John Hurt as Sutler, are overbearing to the point of numbness. We've seen the whole "big head of the fascist leader screaming at his underlings" thing before, in fact in practically every dystopian sci-fi film ever made. We've seen the gratuitous cut to the rotted out teeth of said fascist leader before. We've seen everything about this world before.
Also: is it possible that Natalie Portman and Keira Knightley are getting their scripts mixed up? It seems they should have switched places in most of their roles lately. Certainly Keira wouldn't have been struggling through the entire film with her british accent. Natalie seems lost in it, and can't emote through it. She can't blame George Lucas for her wooden performance here. It's only when Evey is shaved and tortured that Natalie breaks through with something different. When V unveils the truth she is believably devastated. But again, the boring corporate-training-video simplicity of the direction undermines the power of her scene.
Another irritating thing about the adaptation is that there is scene after scene of characters describing what has happened to them, instead of these moments being shown. There is no reason that we can't see these scenes, either in flashback or worked into the film. Some of these moments, like Evey's co-worker not recognizing her in line at the store after she leaves the Shadow Gallery, could have been quite effective. Some, like the Inspector's visit to Larkhill, were crucial in the book,and their absence is remarkable.
The film also differs from its source material in ways that, while minor to the overall story, create a far different atmosphere. The first time we meet Evey Hammond in the comic, she's a poor factory worker preparing to sell herself on the street for the first time; which she attempts, awkwardly, and is accosted by the fingermen, leading to V rescuing her.
In the film, Portman is just some chick who works at a TV station (therefore allowing V easy access later on), and she's on her way to her boss's house. Instead of a desperate, undereducated sapling, the Evey of the film seems self-possessed and intelligent. V doesn't seem to have very much to teach her about the world: she already can quote Macbeth in a future where those works were presumably destroyed long ago.
Also, and this is more damaging to the flow of the story, much of the film is given over to police procedural hokum, while Inspector Finch (a wasted Stephen Rea) tracks down V. He gets every piece of evidence at the exact moment that the film requires him to know it; it's screenwriting at its laziest. There is the intimation that V has been planting the information for him, but the movie doesn't give us the slightest clue as to how V can do this. I didn't notice a computer in the Shadow Gallery, but clearly V has access to internal records of the most fearsome fascist government since the Third Reich.
The film also changes the all-powerful Voice of Fate, Prothero, into a figure more clearly derived from televangeslists and right-wing television pundits; just another frothing, screeching talking head. But a huge difference from the book is that the people don't seem as enthralled by their government's lies as in the book. In the book, when the Voice of Fate is silenced by V, the populace is thrown into fear and confusion.




In the film, there is no such disruption.



In the book, Evey is taken by the police as she is about to shoot the man who killed her lover, Gordon.
The revelation that V has been behind Evey's torture later makes it clear that he has snatched her at that moment to focus her emotions from dull anger to focused revenge. The lack of this moment in the film makes its V seem even more cruel.
All of this is not to say that Moore's V is perfect: far from it. It shows all the signs of a young writer struggling with dialogue and pacing.
What I had hoped, though, is to see more of the fascinating world and mood that Moore and David Lloyd created so well.

The ending of the film again differs from the book, instead of Evey taking on the mantle of V after his death, the citizenry of London all don masks and march (in a ridiculous overhead CGI shot) on their government. But there's a huge missing link here: what reason do they have to do this? What excuse has been given in the film for this change? There are scenes of rioters taking on the fingermen, but that's not enough. The idea of a slower, personal revolution in Moore's book seemed not only more plausible, but more powerful.
Underlying both versions is the message that (and to the filmmaker's credit they manage to convey it) "people should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people." This is all well and good, and I'm not offended by the sight of Parliament exploding or the bronze liberty of the Bailey building being detroyed, but the notion (that haunted the Wachowski's Matrix films also) of killing people to set them free seems counterproductive and ultimately self-destructive.
V is blinded by revenge. The government is blinded by greed. Both of these are a kind of addiction to power. Both sides render their opponents inhuman to make them easier to kill. Both sides kill to maintain their power.
But, what happens the day after the people march through the streets? What happens when the people of London take their power back? What happens when that system becomes corrupt, and how long will that freedom last?
V for Vendetta: D