Tuesday, May 20, 2003
The less said about the seventh and final season of Buffy, the better. The show disappointed me dearly at its end, accomplishing what would have seemed impossible a year ago: It left me wanting less. The series finale perversely allowed the most annoying characters to live, and killed off the most interesting. That, at least, was surprising. This season's 24 was only slightly less predictable than the rotation of the earth on its axis. (my psychic powers told me in the first episode that the nuclear terrorism would be due to the machinations of evil right-wingers, and certainly not Muslims).
I could only bear to watch the final hour of the Hitler miniseries on CBS, and they billed it correctly: It is a study in evil. The evil of the people who created this crap. It's worse than bad--it seems to serve no artistic purpose except to drop sixteen-ton anvils on the heads of the audience, with "Bush=Hitler" written on them.They have Hitler saying things like "Our democracy is under attack by the terrorists" which the real Hitler would never, ever, ever, ever, ever (have I made my point yet?) ever say, even to deceive; Every molecule of Hitler hated democracy, which he called "a disease." The acting is wooden and didactic, the production values chintzy and cheesy (compare HBO's exquisite Conspiracy, which was made for a fraction of the cost of this mess). As entertainment and as history it's equally appalling.
But I am in a good mood nonetheless, because I'm going to be working for Against The Odds magazine again; I'll be writing a regular column on current events and historiography and gaming.