What Is Dead May Never Die: Speculative Fiction Authors and Their Afterlives

 

It’s said that when Czech author Franz Kafka was on his deathbed in 1924, he left instructions to his executor Max Brod to burn all of his unpublished writing. Brod ignored the author’s wishes and spent the next decade publishing Kafka’s works; even though some of Kafka’s works were incomplete, they were printed in their incomplete form (the Castle ended mid-sentence!). History has more-or-less exculpated Brod’s decision because thanks to him, Kafka’s name has endured and the works he preserved from destruction – including the Trial – have become much studied and adored.

Yet when authors in speculative fiction die, their unfinished works are not usually published in an incomplete format; it’s become far more common for another author in the field to assume control of the work and finesse it into a finished status. For those authors who had recurring protagonists, it’s also common to see their heroes carried on by other authors; L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter likely wrote more words about Conan than Robert E. Howard himself.

At last year’s WorldCon in Seattle, authors Brandon Sanderson and George R. R. Martin were asked at a panel that, as Martin wouldn’t “be around for much longer,” why not turn over his A Song of Fire and Ice series to Sanderson for completion? (The exchange was reported on Kotaku)

The question arose because Martin’s series, begun in 1996, last saw a new book published in 2011; although Martin has repeatedly promised the next book in the series the Winds of Winter will be completed (and has published excerpts to pacify his fans), this is by the far the longest gap between books in the series.

Why was Brandon Sanderson dragged into this humiliating question? After author Robert Jordan died in 2007 with his Wheel of Time series incomplete, Sanderson completed the Wheel of Time series, taking a co-author credit for the Gathering Storm (2009), Towers of Midnight (2010) and a Memory of Light (2013).

Yet it seems especially bizarre to ask Sanderson this question because Sanderson had made his thoughts known as far back as 2016 that, while he had great respect for George R. R. Martin, he not only was not interested in finishing a Song of Fire and Ice, he didn’t especially like the content: “I don't shy away from difficult material, but I prefer not to get explicit,” he wrote on Reddit. “Honestly, when I read it in George's work, I often just cringe. I don't think it fits in prose; I think it looks tacky.”

Sanderson has been singled out by many fans as the voice they want to continue a Song of Ice and Fire should Martin fail to complete it himself – not because his voice is similar to Martin’s, but simply because he’s a fellow author of speculative fiction who has finished another author’s works before. It’s the same thinking that’s seen the rise of books “written” by A.I.; it sees authors as interchangeable and undistinctive.

Truly, the culture surrounding speculative fiction has long coached fans to believe it’s both normal and expected that when one author dies, another author will continue their work.

Sometimes it’s simply been playful; Edgar Allan Poe left behind an incomplete work called the Light-House and many authors have attempted to complete it, offering their own attempt at writing in the “voice” of Poe. Some authors were personally requested to complete an incomplete work by the original author prior to their death; other authors took it on as simply a work-for-hire.

Christopher Tolkien and Guy Gavriel Kay completed the Silmarillion and published it in 1977, four years after the death of J. R. R. Tolkien. Christopher continued to edit and publish incomplete works of his father’s up until 2018 (Christopher died in 2020).

Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series was continued by Eoin Colfer with 2009’s And Another Thing… Adams’ also left behind an incomplete Dirk Gently novel that was published in 2002 as the Salmon of Doubt, one year after Adams’ death.

Reviewing And Another Thing…, the Guardian wrote, “Distinctive writing rises from an individual mind and life, and so asking another author to take over is as logically nonsensical as, say, for the executors of George Best to find a boy on the streets of Belfast and ask him to extend the player's career.” Despite this caveat, the reviewer concluded: “I feel that Eoin Colfer has achieved a perfectly calculated adaptation: a novel which serves as a fitting memorial but also has a life of its own.”

Alfred Bester’s Psychoshop was completed by Roger Zelazny, which was published in 1998. Bester died in 1987 and Zelazny in 1995. Greg Bear joked that when he accepted the task of writing the book’s introduction he was the only science fiction author willing to risk his life by putting his name on the book. “The book is meant to make you grin,” Bear wrote, “but with a shake of your head; laughter with an edge. Bester laid down this tempo, but it was not at all difficult for Zelazny to pick it up and draw it out. Zelazny, after all, was one of Bester’s literary children; what Bester pioneered, Zelazny made his own country.”

Publishers Weekly wrote of Psychoshop, “There’s much fun to be had here, but the book doesn’t represent either writer in top form. Bester’s style in the first part of the novel seems date, and things don’t gel until Zelazny takes over halfway through the book.”

In his Year’s Best Science Fiction, Gardner R. Dozois wrote Psychoshop “is more of interest for nostalgic value than as a successful novel on its own terms, although flashes of the vivid prose styles of both authors do shine through here and there.”

Frederick Pohl completed Arthur C. Clarke’s the Last Thorem in 2008 (Clarke had turned over the novel for Pohl to finish prior to his death). Library Journal wrote that the Last Theorem “has been panned by critics and readers alike, and with good reason. It is uneven and occasionally dull, and it struggles to blend incompatible themes.”

Tessa B. Dick completed her ex-husband Philip K. Dick’s the Owl in Daylight in 2009 (long after his 1982 death) but Philip’s estate forced her to withdraw the novel from the marketplace.

Robert A. Heinlein’s Variable Star was completed by Spider Robinson in 2006, long after Heinlein’s 1988 death. Publishers Weekly judged, “Nostalgia for Heinlein’s early work may pique interest in this posthumous collaboration, but old Heinlein hands may be disappointed that the book is incomplete, being all journey and no arrival.”

Terry Bisson completed Walter M. Miller’s Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman in 1997 after Walter died the previous year. Booklist wrote, “The able Terry Bisson has completed but can't compensate for Miller's desultory plot.”

Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson continued the Dune series long after Frank Herbert’s death in 1986. Frank Herbert wrote six Dune novels, but what’s that compared to the seventeen (and counting) Brian and Kevin have gifted us?

Kevin J. Anderson also completed L. Ron Hubbard’s Ai! Pedrito in 1998; he collaborated with Lydia van Vogt to complete A. E. van Vogt’s Slan Hunter in 2007; he wrote a Captain Nemo novel based on Jules Verne’s character. Indeed, Kevin J. Anderson may also be recognized for the many Star Wars novels he’s written but his magnum opus is surely the novelization to the film adaptation of Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill’s League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. He also served as the coach for Microsoft’s beloved mascot Clippy the Paperclip (“It looks like you’re writing a prequel… would you like help with that?”). Truly, he has both borrowed and given in equal measure.

These are just a few of the many works in speculative fiction where an author’s demise has not prevented new works coming out under their names. The phenomenon exists outside of speculative fiction, of course; Tom Clancy, V. C. Andrews and Robert Ludlum’s names continue to appear on books they never wrote.

As the reviews I’ve cherry-picked demonstrate, the results of one author finishing another’s work seldom satisfies audiences. Indeed, many of these works have become forgotten since their publication. Bester fans are happy to have Psychoshop, but it’s in no danger of displacing the Demolished Man or the Stars My Destination in his bibliography.

As I say, it’s easy to see why fandom believes someone else should come along and finish a Song of Ice and Fire should Martin fail to do so himself. My earnest plea is: Maybe you should reconsider?

White Christmas, the Musical That Feared the Future

During the holidays I was re-watching the 1954 musical-comedy White Christmas. I remember watching that film with my family in the 1990s and it became a family tradition to watch it every year around Christmas-time. The funny thing is, the contents of the film are only loosely tied to Christmas. Although the entire film is set around Christmas and features the titular song "White Christmas" near the beginning of the picture and again at the climax, the rest of the film is a series of songs and comic situations that could have been told at any time of the year.

But the most recent time I watched the film, I noticed an odd connection between two of the Irving Berlin songs: "Minstrel Number" and "Choreography." The entire "Minstrel Number" is a nostlagic piece about how much fun minstrel shows were (thankfully, unlike the film Holiday Inn where "White Christmas" debuted, there's no blackface to accompany this number). "Choreography" is some kind of diatribe against avant-garde theater, with Danny Kaye as a satirical choregraphed dancer contrasted against Vera-Ellen's traditional stage dancing; wouldn't you rather watch Vera-Ellen tap dance than see Danny Kaye spin his arms around like a clock? (if you would, then I don't get you)

Now, I like both of those numbers - they're both very silly and Danny Kaye is top-notch in both productions. What I find interesting is that "Minstrel Number" is pining for the past - for a mode of entertainment that hadn't been in vogue for, at the time, decades. And also, you have "Choreography," which is suspicious and disdainful of what was popular on stage at the time. Irving Berlin's heyday began in the 1920s; perhaps his tastes calcified then and never really kept hep with changing tastes.

For another instance, you could look to the film the Band Wagon, which went to cinemas a year before White Christmas. That one features Fred Astaire as a performer who's enlisted into a deep re-interpretation of Faust that ultimately flops on the stage. The performers then rally together ("Gosh, with all this raw talent around, why can't us kids get together and put on ourselves a show! Maybe, we could find ourselves a barn or something.") and put on a production that's what audiences really want to see... another big song and dance show.

Now, the Band Wagon is really elevated by "the Girl Hunt Ballet," an impressionistic dance number based on Mickey Spillane's pulp fiction. But taken together, White Christmas and the Band Wagon give me the sense that musical producers in the 1950s were a bit worried about how to continue appealing to audiences. They knew what worked in the past - and those movies both succeeded at the box office - but perhaps they knew the writing was on the wall? The 1950s are remembered as the last really great decade of movie musicals, as the 1960s would be littered with so many high-profile musical flops that it seemed to taint the entire genre of films.

Knowing what lay ahead of musical films, I kind of want to reach into White Christmas, slap Irving Berlin in the face and tell him to stop pining for those ancient minstrel shows. Those creative decisions are so much of their time that I had no clue what "Minstrel Number" was pining for when I first saw it (answer: really racist old-timey humour) and I'm still unclear as to what exactly was being spoofed in "Choreography." The singing and dancing that accompanies those numbers overcomes their lack of relevance.

Credit, undue

Following on from yesterday's post about Public Domain, I have a few thoughts about a current headline on comic book creators receiving their due credit.

Until recently, Marvel's official credit byline for the character Wolverine cited writer Len Wein with artists Herb Trimpe and John Romita (Romita designed the costume but Trimpe drew the finished comic). As of the recent movie Deadpool and Wolverine, Roy Thomas is now included at the end of the byline. This apparently came about because Thomas has for himself a very cutthroat talent agent - and because Wein, Trimpe and Romita are all deceased. Thomas has been very pleased with himself for getting a co-creator credit on Wolverine, although he did pause to complain that his name was listed last when it "should have" been first in a classic case of "shut up when you're winning."

Until I arrived on the internet in 1998, I didn't realize that Thomas was a bit controversial in comics fandom. I knew him only from his works, from the editorials he wrote on the letters pages of his various Marvel and DC titles over the years. I was especially flummoxed when I began to meet other fans of 1940s super heroes online and discovered none of them seemed to like Thomas' work very much. Why, wasn't it Thomas who did more than any other writer to bring back forgotten heroes of the 1940s to give them new adventures in places like Marvel's Invaders and DC's All-Star Squadron? Sure, they rejoined, and he did more than other writer to retcon 1940s heroes out of existence, kill them off or turn them into villains.

Heck, on at least three occasions Thomas brought out a story where a classic hero comes back, goes insane, turns evil, fights the heroes, then destroys himself (Toro in Sub-Mariner #14; Red Raven in Sub-Mariner #26; Marvel Boy in Fantastic Four #165). That should have been a clue to me.

Thomas' case for being Wolverine's co-creator is that he was the editor of Wolverine's first appearance and participated in the original brainstorming sessions for the character. I'd like to say it's not cricket to claim that this makes you a co-creator, but I'm afraid Marvel has already been building precedent along these lines. The Kamala Khan version of Ms. Marvel has always been credited as a co-creation of editors Sana Amanat and Stephen Wacker, writer G. Willow Wilson and artists Jamie McKelvie and Adrian Alphona. With the precedent established, why not take advantage of it?

Well, for one, you could injure your legacy. For Roy Thomas, he's an aging creator (turns 84 this year) and he's not liable to produce more art in the future as counterweight against his present legacy. Thomas was already someone fans had a few misgivings about - now they're looking at him as the true inheritor of Stan Lee's mantle, and not in a good way - that like Stan Lee, he wants to claim more ownership over ideas than he is due.

Comics don't pay very well and offer few incentives to reward loyalty, even for those who put decades of their lives into careers at the major companies. If you view the business from a libertarian dog-eat-dog perspective then sure, Thomas can demand and receive compensation for Wolverine and any other characters whose first appearances he might've edited (which his agent is apparently trying to do). You can "prove" you deserve more credits and more dollars from your corporate publishers. What you can't prove is how it makes you any better than Bob Kane.

For a man who rose up the ranks from fandom, Thomas hasn't had a great reputation within fandom and not because of sour grapes. I'm afraid that when Thomas passes on, fandom will not long mourn him. And that's a pity, because if he would just stick to his actual accomplishments he would leave a legacy to be celebrated.

Cinema, meet entropy

There are any number of editorials on the internet - particularly the entertainment pages of news sites - on the troubles of the cinemas. Why have so many big budget movies recently failed in their theatrical releases? What do audiences really want to see? What will bring numbers back up to their more predictable pre-pandemic tallies?

And every author has their theories. I'm certain there is no single reason why movies have been struggling recently. Is it competition from other venues? Foreknowledge that the films will be easily available online? Studios out of step with what audiences are interested in? Sure, all of that.

But last weekend I went to the cinema for the first time since last December and I have to say, it wasn't a great experience. I can accept a certain amount of discomfort in the cinema; if the theatre is dirty or the seats are uncomfortable, I'll bear it for the sake of watching the film. Where I draw the line is when the cinematic experience is ruined by the presence of other cinema-goers.

I'm sure we all have examples of fellow cinema-goers who've been a real detriment to our enjoyment of a film, but when I see opinions from cinephiles who, with mist-laden eyes and quivering lips contemplate the tragic possibility of cinema chains going out of business, I don't ever see them comment on this.

I had a guy in the row in front of me who apparently had a very important conversation that could not wait -- because about every three minutes he pulled out his phone to text. And my wife informed me that the person seated in front of her was constantly talking during the film. We enjoyed the film, but we did not enjoy the experience of going to the cinema.

And ultimately, you can't dismiss this - moviegoers are most interested in their own comfort. Some of them want an environment where they can take out their phones any time they like or talk over the movie. Others want just the opposite! My wife and I like going to the cinema, but ultimately when we want to see a movie we enjoy it just fine no matter what screen it's presented on.

I've had some great experiences watching movies that were heightened by the presence of other people in the cinema and how they reacted to what was on the screen. But, generally speaking, I'm just as happy to watch films in my home and avoid having to endure the behaviour of strangers.

9 More Thoughts About X-Men '97

I suppose prior to X-Men '97 it had been some time since I experienced an X-Men story that I enjoyed. With the first season done, it's left me with a few thoughts about the X-Men franchise and what the cartoon does very well.

1. Cyclops: In the comics, Cyclops had a tough time of it after the 1990s. He's the definitive X-Men leader but at times he was sidelined - written out of the book, or exploring his dark side, becoming a terrorist. X-Men '97 demonstrates that he really does work best as a great team leader - a man who has troubles in his personal life but knows how to rally his team, earn people's trust, stop the bad guys and save lives. The series even gave him a few moments to act cool (particularly in the 1st episode, where his use of his optic blasts is especially creative). There's a lot of life in this character - you don't have to bend or break him, just keep him tightly-wound.
2. Wolverine: He's been such an attention hog for so long that it's hard to remember how good he is as an ensemble player. Post 1990s, Wolverine suddenly took over roles on the team that were traditionally held by other characters - suddenly he was a natural leader or the team's conscience. It's not his best fit; X-Men '97 shows him as a bit of an agigtator but overall good team player who understands his allies' strengths and backs them up. It's nice to see him retreat back into this role after 24 years of stories where if he wasn't central to the action he simply wasn't present.
3. Nightcrawler: The early animated programs emphasized Kurt's Catholic faith - which is a significant part of his character, but not what made him a beloved X-Man. With him promoted to a lead character in X-Men '97, I was happy to see his swashbuckling love of adventure come to the fore. The Kurt who loves to laugh, fence and sneak up behind his friends to hug them is really the Kurt fans enjoy spending time with.
4. Bastion: The Operation: Zero Tolerance crossover in which Bastion was the lead villain came out in 1997 so it was certainly appropriate for X-Men '97 to adapt, but it was also considered a nadir in the X-Men franchise. Operation: Zero Tolerance has long been considered a failed storyline by fandom and Bastion an interesting but botched attempt at giving the team a major new opponent. X-Men '97 took advantage of hindsight to give Bastion a stronger storyarc, emphasizing him as not simply an anti-mutant figure but, as a cybernetic being, a contender against mutants' claim to representing the future of humanity. It's easily the most compelling take I've ever seen on Bastion and I expect the comics will scramble to give him an animated-inspired makeover.
5. The X-Men of the 90s: The failure of Operation: Zero Tolerance coincided with Scott Lobdell's exit from the X-Men. He'd been writing for them since the tailend of the Jim Lee era and, whatever you might say about his work, he kept the book consistent, largely by following the storytelling engine Chris Claremont had created. '97 was a particularly hard time for Marvel, with the company's bankruptcy, a number of failed new titles and initiatives and most of their television and film projects either stalled or dead on arrival. That X-Men '97 exists demonstrates how well Marvel repaired itself following the 90s. For all the negatives we can say about how Marvel has conducted itself in the 21st century, at least they pulled out of their death-spiral.
6. X-Men history: Outside of Operation: Zero Tolerance, however, X-Men '97 is very interested in celebrating - not the 1990s - but the 1980s X-Men of Chris Claremont's heyday. The characters of the original animated series were all garbed in the Jim Lee outfits they wore for most of the 1990s, but X-Men '97 gradually shifts most of the cast into costumes from the Claremont days; Rogue and Storm revert to their original Dave Cockrum costumes; Wolverine dons his brown and orange John Byrne costume; Magneto briefly wears his 1980s John Romita Jr. 'M' costume; Sunspot wears a 1980s New Mutants costume (pointedly he doesn't wear the blue and gold costume seen elsewhere in the series); Cyclops goes back to his classic Dave Cockrum look while Jean Grey wears her 1960s Don Heck costume. Claremont's Inferno is covered in a single episode! Claremont and Windsor-Smith's Lifedeath is adapted! But the series also looks ahead past the 1990s with Jubilee donning her circa 2010 costume, the Sentinel attack from E Is for Extinction is adapted and later characters such as Pixie pop up in the backgrounds.
7. Soap opera: I'm now convinced that if you don't want to write soap opera, you really ought to keep away from the X-Men. If you don't want to write at least one romantic triangle, why even bother? The X-Men have a long history of angst but also of romantic pairings - the fandom loves it. And X-Men '97 delves in, with a Cyclops/Jean/Madelyne triangle (that's a bit more nuanced than the original triangle), a Rogue/Magneto/Gambit triangle, the Storm/Forge pairing and a wholly original Jubilee/Sunspot romance. That's prime X-Men.
8. Metaphors: It's been pointed out that although the X-Men can be used as an interesting metaphor for race, religion and sexuality it can be unhelpful to try and make parity between them. Frequently, humans are right to be worried about mutants, given they have immense power, poor self-control and almost no accountability. They also have a tendency to close ranks and assert that only they can judge each other (they also appear to forgive each other very readily). That limits the metaphor, so it's probably best not to hit it too square on the head. I think X-Men '97 balanced it well - it's the first animated X-Men I've seen that was willing to dip its toes into gay/trans characters and certainly the character arc for Sunspot as he asserts his identity as a mutant seems to be intentionally mirroring the experience of someone "coming out." The destruction of Genosha draws from 9/11 to give scenes emotional depth yet not unearned. It's a good mix.
9. Shade: Oh, how I did enjoy X-Men '97 casting shade on the 2000 X-Men movie, as Cyclops quips of the X-Men costume he's just handed Cable: "What'd you expect? Black leather?" The 2000 film took a moment to dump on Wolverine's iconic comic book visuals and the last 24 years have seen many other comics characters adapted to live action in less-than-inspired visuals - often just wearing black leather. Kudos to X-Men '97 for being unashamedly a comic book adaptation.

11 Thoughts about Ahsoka (2023)

1. I knew nothing about Ahsoka prior to seeing her on the Mandalorian. I found her pretty underwhelming in that program but I understood she was some kind of popular character in the expanded Star Wars universe. I didn't plan to watch her program but my wife and I needed a distraction and it was good enough. Certainly it wasn't as bad as the Book of Boba Fett.
2. But Ahsoka has a lot of other characters who are only barely introduced - they're all treated as though their adventures have been going on for some time. So they might also be from the expanded universe? Or maybe the series was going for an in media res style comparable to the original trilogy?
3. Sabine might possibly be the worst sidekick I've ever seen in fiction. Her arc is that she keeps failing at everything she attempts until the final episode. There is a good case to be made that Ahsoka would have had an easier time if she had simply lost Sabine's phone number, since Sabine gives up the advantage to the bad guys every time she interacts with them.
4. The Sith in this series were at least something different. The Inquisitors from Obi-Wan Kenobi were perhaps the most tiresome Sith I'd yet seen, but Ray Stevenson's character on Ahsoka demonstrated that it's possible to do something different; instead of the typical petty Sith in-fighting and self-destructive nihilism, Stevenson's repressed performance and quiet weariness were at least a change from the usual.
5. Hayden Christensen is allowed to act now.
6. At one point a useless senator character scoffs at the account of what Ahsoka's been up to as thinking it sounds like a fairy tale. My dude, are you paying attention to the universe you live in? Fantastic fairy tale stuff happens every day!
7. Which brings to mind the space whales. My immediate reaction to my wife when they appeared was: "If you lived in the Star Wars universe and you were high on drugs, how would you ever know? 'Whoa, I think I see space whales. But I guess those things just exist in this universe.'"
8. The way in which Thrawn is treated as a mythical evil seemed off to me. Yes, Thrawn is a legendary Imperial leader. But he's not Sith - he's only powerful because of what he's to command into battle. Hearing characters talk about him like some figure of destiny seemed off, given that actual Sith were standing in the room at the time.
9. Then we finally meet Thrawn and he pretty much proved my point. He spends all his time delegating orders to others because he has no real power, just a lot of subordinates. His catchphrase, heard about every 15 minutes is: "Great Mothers; I have need again of your assistance."
10. The Stormtrooper with the golden face is the dorkiest Stormtrooper I've ever seen, and that's a feat.
11. Zombie Stormtroopers are not the wildest thing about Ahsoka; for me, it was hearing notes from Danse Macabre play as the zombies rose up. I was not expecting to hear an actual music sample in Star Wars.

The State of Star Wars

The recent conclusion of the well-received Disney+ series Andor has many people sizing up the state of of the Star Wars franchise. I don't count myself immune to that impulse. Disney has been making live-action Star Wars films and television shows for 7 years as of this week and it's been an odd journey.

The initial film, Star Wars: The Force Awakens took a lot of criticism for hewing so closely to tropes from the original film trilogy. I felt then - and now - that considering it was the first film without George Lucas, Disney had to prove they could produce something which felt 'authentically' like a Star Wars movie, but not like the 2nd poorly-received trilogy Lucas had made. The film did a decent job of setting up a new cast of characters and introducing hooks for future stories.

Then came the baffling decision to make Star Wars: The Last Jedi which attempted to deconstruct the entire franchise and kill just about every hook the previous film had set up. It is fantastically odd that Disney allowed the film to be made as the 2nd episode in a new franchise. As a stand-alone film it might've worked (though I question the wisdom of Star Wars deconstructing itself - it's not deep enough to survive close scrutiny) but as the middle part of a trilogy it was a major speedbump.

And everyone knows the Last Jedi doomed the finale of the trilogy, the Rise of Skywalker which stumbled, stammered and fumbled its way into theaters to no particular acclaim. Lucas' 2nd trilogy and the Last Jedi at least had their fans; no one cared much for the Rise of Skywalker. In fact, it inspired a whole host of online thinkpieces asking, "the 2nd trilogy doesn't look so bad now, does it?"

It's surprising that television has become the medium where Star Wars thrives. It's supposed to be a franchise built on spectacle, and spectacle doesn't come cheap. And yet, the first season of the Mandalorian proved that by tackling a more modestly-budgeted sphere of the Star Wars universe they could produce an 'authentic' Star Wars product. Besides all that, it was quite good.

The 2nd season of the Mandalorian struggled (in ways that I'll contrast against Andor). Despite the lead character having a goal that should have been propelling the story forward, Mando seemed to be always backtracking so that he could interact with his supporting cast. It's also odd that the hero's quest - to bring Grogu to the Jedi - leads him straight to the living, breathing Jedi Ahsoka - and she refuses to take custody of Grogu. But heck, the season ends with Mando and Grogu parting ways as Luke takes custody of Grogu. But clearly the creators weren't married to that climax.

The Book of Boba Fett is basically the third season of the Mandalorian. In fact, there's an episode without any appearance by Boba which is instead carried by Mando and plays like one of his episodes. This is an odd show that serves mainly to prove Boba's status as a cool character has been permanently usurped by the much-cooler Mando. It also serves to undo the finale of the Mandalorian's 2nd season, suggesting that the series will be pretty static.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was an oddity, one that exists in the barest margins of continuity, trying carefully to tell a story without infringing on the original Star Wars film. It was at least interesting to see the in-fighting among the show's Inquisitors which illustrates how wasteful and incompetant the franchise's villains are (and always have been).

But then came Andor. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of Andor. Friends of mine rushed to call it great, but I held off rendering a verdict until the 12th episode aired (I was a little surprised it ran 12 episodes, I expected it to be as brief as the other shows). Still, the show did basically run 4 3-part stories - every 3 episodes was a good place to pause and take stock of where the show had been and where it was going.

Viewing it as a complete season, I'm very impressed. Unlike the Mandalorian - where the lead character has to constantly run back to find his supporting cast - the makers of Andor don't care whether their cast share any scenes in each episode - or even all season! There are several characters in the show who have never shared a set together. The way in which the cast is split up in various places, each with their own running subplots creates a sense of vastness that Star Wars has mostly lacked. The universe feels bigger simply because although lead character Cassian Andor's decisions affect the rest of the cast, he doesn't command the cast. He's swept up by events as much as anyone.

It's all the more impressive that this is a prequel to the Disney film Rogue One, itself a prequel to the original Star Wars. Yet unlike Obi-Wan Kenobi there's no sense that the characters are keeping to the margins to avoid intruding on subsequent works. Andor feels like its own story; it benefits from the audience's knowledge of what is coming in the future (in fact the series logo hints at it) but the series has its own rules, its own sense of place.

Andor is surely not what everyone wants from Star Wars - the spaceship battles and comical droids are there, but at a minimum; there are no Jedi. Even though it's playing into stories which have terrific stakes, the stakes in Andor are smaller and as much concerned with people's emotional and psychological journeys as it is the rise of the Rebel Alliance.

It's telling, I think to look back at Star Wars: The Force Awakens' role for Andy Serkis and compare it to his recent role on Andor. In the former role, Serkis' fine skills were mostly squandered and his character an afterthought. In Andor, he's there for just a quarter of the series yet delivered one of the season's most memorable characters.

Disney probably won't capitalize on Andor in any real way (given that the aforementioned extraneous Jedi Ahsoka is their next intended series) but Andor stands apart and demonstrates there's still life in the franchise.

The Problems with Angel, Part 3: Cordelia

And so I've reached the last of my three-part look back at the problems I've identified with Angel. Sadly, it means I have to discuss the series' biggest problem: Cordelia Chase.

Cordelia (played by Charisma Carpenter) was inherited by Angel from the cast of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Cordelia was introduced as a shallow, vain and rather ditzy teenager who had no particular skillset suited for battling the forces of evil; Cordelia's greatest contribution to Buffy's struggle was that she both owned and drove a car.

Yet despite that, even in the first three seasons Cordelia demonstrated certain hidden depths. She could be quite loyal to the others and willing to help, even when she had precious little to contribute. Once she joined the cast of Angel, however, her character altered significantly - and for the better.

When Cordelia went to work for Angel in "City of" (1x1) she insisted she was only taking the secretarial job "until my inevitable stardom takes effect." She came to Los Angeles hoping to become an actress and that remained a part of her background up until "Birthday" (3x11). But even by the end of the first season, she was quite a different person.

It was a gradual shift; Cordelia commented on it herself in "Bachelor Party" (1x7) when she realized how Angel and Doyle's heroism had affected how she felt about men: "All of a sudden rich and handsome isn't enough for me; now I expect a guy to be all brave and interesting! And it's your fault! Both of you!" Soon after, she inherited Doyle's visions in "Parting Gifts" (1x10), which made her indispensable to Angel's mission as she would guide him against the forces of evil. "You can't fire me, I'm vision girl," Cordelia taunted him in "Untouched" (2x4).

The visions were a terrific way to transform Cordelia into a more selfless, heroic person. She retained her blunt manner of speech, love of fine clothes and dreams of stardom, but she was no longer working for Angel just to collect a paycheck; all of this was made clear in "To Shanshu in L.A." (1x22), when Cordelia loses control of the visions and is exposed an endless series of images where people are in pain. After long hours of suffering, unable to do more than scream or cry, Cordelia is saved by Angel and Wesley; her first words when she revives? "Angel? I saw them all. There's so much pain. ...We have to help them."

During season 2 when Angel turned away from his path to pursue vengeance on Wolfram & Hart, Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn continued to do his work. When Angel finally returned to the group in "Epiphany" (2x16), Wesley put Angel in his place, explaining how much Cordelia had changed. "You don't know her at all. For months now you haven't cared to, otherwise you might have realized that our Cordelia has become a very solitary girl. She's not the vain, carefree creature she once was... Well, certainly not carefree. It's the visions, you see. The visions that were meant to guide you. You could turn away from them - she doesn't have that luxury. She knows and experiences the pain in this city, and because of who she is, she feels compelled to do something about it. It's left her little time for anything else. You'd have known that - if you hadn't had you head firmly up your... place that isn't on top of your neck."

It also helped that Cordelia's visions were increasingly causing her great pain. The visions had been painful from the first episode of the series, but it became a plot point late in season 2 that Cordelia was finding it harder to keep receiving the visions; she was not only suffering more mental trauma from the terrifying images she saw, but also developing health problems.

This brings us to season 3, where Cordelia's character began to slowly derail - but it was only clear in retrospect that the problems began there. Certainly Angel fandom was up in arms about Cordelia that year and not in a positive way. From the outset, it became clear that Cordelia was being set up as a love interest for Angel. Some fans liked that idea; some fans didn't. But a very vocal segment of fandom was upset because of how drastically Cordelia was changing.

Cordelia had a wonderful ability to deliver sarcastic put-downs without becoming unlikable herself. But this aspect of her character started to ebb away, along with her interests in money and stardom; then to, her relationship with the Grosalugg in the latter half of season 3 was brought up mainly to write the Grosalugg out for good - to put Cordelia past admiring men for their good looks. Cordelia was now Angel's greatest confidante, the one who would share perhaps one heartwarming/inspirational speech with Angel each episode. Fans dubbed this change, "Saint Cordelia."

"Saint Cordelia" became such a meme in fandom that even the creators got wind of it and referenced it in "Calvary" (4x12). Fans used the nickname principally to display their displeasure with Cordelia's personality change, but many also disliked the attempt to pair her up with Angel - mainly because the changes seemed to have occurred in order to correct any 'imperfections' in Cordelia, to render her 'worthy' of being the lead character's love interest.

And yes, season 3 laid it on pretty thick; in "That Vision Thing" (3x2), Cordelia is so noble she refuses to give up the visions even as Wolfram & Hart are using them to inflict physical damage on her. In "Birthday" she's given the chance to alter her past to remove the visions from her and become a famous star, but decides she'd rather keep the visions and help Angel. In the latter part of season 3, while she's dating the Groosalugg, nearly every romantic moment with Groo is undermined by a bit where she worries about Angel or says something which indicates to Groo that she cares more about Angel than him.

The circle the characters of Angel inhabited became significantly smaller in season 3. Fred had no life outside of helping Angel Investigations, to the point where she didn't want her family to know where she was (3x5); Gunn formally broke ties with his gang in "That Old Gang of Mine" (3x3), removing his character's independence; Lorne lost his club and moved into the Hyperion Hotel in "Dad" (3x10); Wesley and Cordelia had social lives and interests outside of Angel Investigations prior to season 3 - but by mid-season they had no lives beyond what went on in the offices of Angel Investigations.

Shrinking Angel's universe couldn't help but feel incestuous; creating love triangles among the lead characters (first, Gunn-Fred-Wesley; later, Angel-Cordelia-Connor) made the world feel smaller. Likewise the growing emphasis on storyarcs and de-emphasis on 'case-of-the-week' episodes. Indeed, the firm of Angel Investigations had fewer and fewer clients in season 3; the idea that Angel and his friends were running a business became less and less important, to the extent that one interesting idea - Wolfram & Hart trying to tie up Angel by using real world law - was dismissed for good in the same episode where it was brought up (3x4).

This sense of smallness became a huge problem in season 4, where virtually all of the drama of the season was due to events in the characters' personal lives. One senses the creators were themselves aghast what they had wrought; at various points the characters voiced complaints about the season's arc: "I spent most of this year trapped in what I can only describe as a turgid supernatural soap opera," Gunn complained in "Players" (4x16). And after Wesley explained Connor's backstory to Faith in "Salvage" (4x13) Faith quipped, "Can I just ask: what the hell are you people doing?" Wesley meekly answered, "Leading... complicated lives."

In some sense, the events of "Birthday" - where Cordelia became half-demon - marked the end of the Cordelia who fans were familiar with. After that episode her powers changed on an episode-to-episode basis and she was defined mostly by her relationships with the Groosalugg and Angel - to the point that afer going on vacation in "Couplet" (3x14), she had no more significant friendship moments with Wesley for the rest of season 3 or entirety of season 4. And the Cordelia-Wesley friendship had been a hallmark of the program's first 2.5 years! But with Cordelia and Wesley each tied up in separate love triangles, the creators seemed to forget they had a relationship dynamic of their own.

In another sense, Cordelia didn't appear at all in season 4; first she's a 'higher power' (4x1), then she's amnesiac (4x3), then she isolates herself from the group (4x6), then she's revealed to be the season's 'big bad' (4x12), then she falls into a coma (4x17). The storyarc involving Cordelia's transformation into a 'big bad' is definitely a problematic one - there was a lot of behind-the-scenes trouble, notably that Charisma Carpenter's pregnancy changed the plot so that Cordelia was being possessed by the actual big bad, Jasmine.

Frankly, assigning all of the evil Cordelia did to the character of Jasmine was an immense relief to me. I liked Cordelia and it had been difficult to watch her become a sneering, bloodthirsty villain. Jasmine's arrival in "Inside Out" (4x17) was kind of a relief to me because it meant Cordelia could escape from the plot with some of her dignity intact (although apparently this was all much less-fun for Charisma Carpenter, who was basically booted off the show as 'punishment' for getting pregnant).

But the worst aspect of the evil Cordelia plot came about during "Inside Out" in one of the most ill-advised passages in the entire series. It's during that episode that the character Skip delves into a lengthy explanation of how Jasmine had orchestrated her plot. I'm sure the creators considered it a lot of very clever work - tying together events from the first four seasons to make Jasmine appear to be the series' grandest villain, a plot which could appear to have been set in motion all the way back in "City Of". Here is that ill-advised conversation:

Angel: "It doesn't make sense. Cordy was made a higher being because she proved herself to the Powers by bearing their visions. This thing couldn't have--"
Wesley: "--Unless it maneuvered her to inherit the visions in the first place."
Skip: "Uh, oh. Better step on it. The rubes are catching up."
Angel: "It wasn't just her ascension. Everything that's happened to Cordy in the past few years-- all of it—- was planned."
Skip: "You really think it stops with her, amigo? You have any concept of how many lines have to intersect in order for a thing like this to play out? How many events have to be nudged in just the right direction? Leaving Pylea. Your sister. Opening the wrong book. Sleeping with the enemy. Gosh, I love a story with scope."
Gunn: "No way. We make our own choices."
Skip: "Yeah, sure. Cheese sandwich here, uh, when to floss. But the big stuff, like two vampires squeezing out a kid?"
Angel: "Connor."
Wesley: "An impossible birth to make one possible."
Skip: "That's what the kid was designed for."
Lorne: "To sleep with mother love?"
Angel: "To create a vessel."
Skip: "Look out. The monkey's thinking again."

There are two huge problems with the claims Skip made:

1. Jasmine's supposedly great master plan had already been undermined twice - first when Angelus killed the Beast in "Salvage" and again when Willow restored Angel's soul in "Orpheus" (4x15).
2. The idea that the characters on Angel did not possess free will is fundamentally contrary to the premise of the series - the whole notion of Angel seeking redemption for himself and others, to say nothing of whether his 'pivotal role' in the Apocalypse is to played on the side of good or evil.

The creators fortunately forgot they'd written this as soon as it was aired, I guess? Because the series got back on track; much later in the program during "Power Play" (5x21), Angel himself summed up the series' actual philosophy: "The powerful control everything... except our will to choose. Look, Lindsey's a pathetic halfwit, but he was right about one thing: heroes don't accept the way the world is."

So many of the decisions made around Cordelia in seasons 3 & 4 were bad calls - not only her transformation into a villain, but altering her powers (for no particular purpose other than to write away the subplot about the visions harming her), altering her goals and involving her in in what is the Buffyverse's single least-beloved relationship (with Connor - no mean feat, considering how many Buffy-Riley & Willow-Kennedy haters there are) all added up to a pretty dismal fate for what had been one of the series' best characters. She was legitimately the second lead of the series... only to be written out.

I haven't named any of the Angel creators thus far (other than executive producer Joss Whedon) but I definitely need to single out writer David Fury, who wrote "You're Welcome" (5x12). "You're Welcome" was an amazing feat of writing as it not only gave Cordelia a great send-off but at the same time washed away all of the ill will which season 4 in particular had created. In just one episode, everyone who had liked Cordelia in the past was instantly reminded of why she had been such a beloved character. And considering it was her farewell to the series, it really needed to be done.

These, then, are the three biggest problems I've noticed with Angel. But along the way I've tried to comment on parts of the series which did work; and I do think most of the series still holds up. Heck, season 4 was by far my least-favourite season, but it still contains a number of episodes that I truly enjoy and season 5 turned out to be my favourite season of the program.

The Problems with Angel, Part 2: Connor

So... Connor.

Connor (played by Vincent Kartheiser) was the son of the titular protagonist of Angel. The character was born as an infant in "Lullaby" (3x9), disappeared in "Sleep Tight" (3x16), then returned (as Kartheiser) in the closing seconds of "The Price" (3x19). Connor was promoted to a spot as a lead cast member as of "Deep Down" (4x1) but was eliminated from the cast at the end of the season (4x22). Subsequently he returned for two guest appearances in the 5th season (5x18 & 5x22).

I was involved in the online fan community at the time "The Price" aired and I monitored reactions from fans throughout the character's appearances. Connor was not well-loved. Well, that is, Connor the baby was absolutely adored by Angel fandom. But when people talk about Connor, they usually mean the version who debuted in "The Price".

There was a tradition going back to Buffy the Vampire Slayer that the creative team wanted at least one recurring character who would butt heads with the program's hero. For most of her time on Buffy, Cordelia Chase (played by Charisma Carpenter) was present principally to mock Buffy and her friends and predict certain doom for everyone. She was like C-3PO, if that comparison makes sense to you.

James Marsters has said that one of the reasons his character Spike was promoted to a leading role on Buffy was to fill the void left when Cordelia joined the cast of Angel. Yet at the same time, Cordelia quickly evolved on Angel - no longer the doomsayer, she quickly became a staunch ally who would criticize the show's hero in private, but relentlessly defend him before others. Cordelia had undergone character development, so Angel needed its own critic.

Initially that unwelcome responsibility fell upon Kate Lockley (played by Elisabeth Rohm), who was present partially to serve as a love interest to Angel, but also as someone to be an uneasy ally, frequently suspicious of him. I found Kate to be a very compelling character, one who had a valid viewpoint. And yet, a lot of fans did not (and still do not) like her because she would oppose Angel almost reflexively. Who would have thought that a character who says in her debut appearance (1x2) that she has "trust issues" would go on to demonstrate that she has trust issues?!

Kate departed in "Epiphany" (2x16), mainly because Rohm had joined the cast of Law & Order. Apparently if she had been available, Kate would have become Holtz's chief lieutenant in season 3, rather than the new character Justine. I don't know if that means the creators would have made Kate slit Wesley's throat, but that would have certainly cemented Kate as the most disliked person on Angel. But instead, the single most problematic character became Angel's own son, Connor.

Connor seems to have been made a regular principally to be the critic, the doomsayer, the one who would give Angel a hard time. Unlike Kate, whose interactions contained an element of sexual tension, Connor would complicate Angel's life because of their father-son relationship (or lack thereof). A son who disobeys and talks back to his father - that's a good basis for some character conflict, and Angel ran on character conflict like it was gasoline.

Why didn't it work?

In the 1982 film Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, the character of Dr. David Marcus is introduced. He's a scientist who is deeply critical of Starfleet (which he refers to as 'the military') and looks down on the franchise's hero, James T. Kirk. As the film progresses, the audience learns David is Kirk's son, raised by his mother Carol away from his father's influence. At the end of the film, after seeing his father's grief at the death of his friend Spock, David consoles Kirk and reveals he knows Kirk is his father - and he's proud to be Kirk's son.

There are some helpful comparisons to be drawn between David Marcus and Connor; both are the sons of the series' lead protagonist; both were raised outside of their father's influence; both are sharply critical of their father. And just as Angel fandom had some trouble accepting Connor, there were a lot of Star Trek fans in 1982 who weren't quite sure how to feel about David. One fan observed that although David was not an especially likeable character on his own merits, they made allowances for his behaviour based solely on who his father was. That is, David inherited some of the affection fans had for his father.

I think it also helped that David's last significant scene in the film was that where he humbled himself and hugged his father. There is simply no similar scene for Connor between "The Price" and "Home" (4x22). At various times during that interval, Angel lectures Connor. At various times he fights and defeats Connor. Yet Connor remains unchanged - even growing more unhinged as the series progresses.

The fundamental problem with Connor as a character who criticizes Angel is that we in the audience are meant to take him seriously. Connor wasn't simply taunting or teasing Angel in the manner of Cordelia & Spike on Buffy; he wasn't merely disagreeing or threatening Angel as Kate had on various occasions; he attempted to murder Angel (3x20), then followed it up by imprisoning his father on the floor of the ocean (3x22).

Allowances for Connor's behaviour can be made because, as was frequently mentioned, he was raised in a 'Hell dimension' - raised by Angel's nemesis Holtz, a man whose family was brutally killed by Angelus. Holtz had a legitimate quarrel with Angelus and used Connor as a means to hurt Angel - realizing that because of Angel's human soul, he could be made to feel deep emotional pain. After raising Connor as his own son, Holtz arranged to have himself murdered and to frame Angel for the act, ensuring Connor would forever hate his father (3x21).

So yes, Connor was a victim - you could even call him 'brainwashed' by Holtz. But that, unfortunately, eliminates him as a viable critic. How can any of Connor's criticisms of Angel be taken as valid when he is fundamentally incapable of sound judgement? In the first half of season 4, there is a sense that the creators wanted to set up Connor as an 'alternative viewpoint' to that of Angel; certainly when Connor invites the amnesiac Cordelia to live with him instead of Angel in "Slouching Toward Bethlehem" (4x4) it places Connor as a rival to Angel.

But Connor didn't change. During "Soulless" (4x11) it becomes clear that he remained a victim of Holtz's brainwashing. How were we in the audience meant to consider Connor's viewpoint when he seemed barely able to support his own views?

Fissures began to form. Starting with "Salvage" (4x13), the criticisms fans had been making about Connor online seemed to be referenced on the show itself. In that episode, Faith makes a guest appearance and both verbally and physically disciplines Connor when he refuses to follow her orders. This continues into "Orpheus" (4x15), where after Faith gives Connor a thorough thrashing, Gunn remarks, "I just wish I could've seen you kicking the crap out of junior, here." Faith agrees. "It was pretty funny."

At the time "Orpheus" aired I was amused to see the program acknowledge how disliked Connor was by having the characters verbalize their own dislike of Connor. But in retrospect, it's not a good sign when a television show gives up on one of its main characters - and that's what was going on with Connor. A few episodes later in "Sacrifice" (4x20), there was a brief scene where Angel beat up Connor. It was at least the third time that season that viewers had seen Angel defeat his son in a fight, but that one stood out to me because the friends I was watching Angel with thought that scene was hysterical; unlike the previous two fights (4x1 & 4x6), Angel and Connor's fight went on mostly off-camera, so the sudden appearance of Connor's unconscious body, thrown on the hood of a car, provoked laughter from my friends. They hated Connor.

I wanted to like Connor; it's the same principle Star Trek fans struggled with for David Marcus. Although I found Connor to be a pretty obnoxious character with no real redeeming qualities, I did like Angel, so I wanted to like Connor. If only the show would meet me halfway! But the creators had written a deeply stubborn character who refused to grow, learn or change. The only ways in which he did change were not for the better - as season 4 progressed, he turned out to be a willing accomplice to the season's 'big bad', Jasmine. In the finale, he fought Angel yet again, then had his memories altered.

The attitude of my friends to Connor's fate in "Home" was good riddance. They were happy to move on. But for me, as a fan of a television program which is thematically about redemption, I wasn't as willing to give up on Connor. And happily, once he stopped being a series regular the creators were at least ready to meet fans halfway (also, season 5 was their last opportunity to handle any of the characters). In season 5 Connor returned in two episodes; his memories were restored in "Origin", which was confirmed in "Not Fade Away", yet Connor has no particular angst about his fate - for the first time, he understands that Angel cares about him and changed his memories in an attempt to help him. Without being asked to, he fights at his father's side for the battle against Hamilton. Connor is ready to participate in the final fight against the armies of the Senior Partners, but Angel asks him to stay out of it. "But they'll destroy you," Connor protests. "As long as you're alive, they can't," Angel answers. There are no further complaints or protests. Connor and Angel are finally at peace with each other.

There was a lot of wasted potential in Connor; for one thing, the series never did get around to explain what the heck he was. He was the son of two vampires - a "miracle child". The best theory is that Connor's soul was the result of Angel winning the trial for Darla's life in "The Trial" (2x9); in that episode, Angel won Darla a second chance at life, only to learn because she had already been resurrected the second chance couldn't be used to save her again; Connor's life, body & soul, is the result of Angel's victory in "The Trial".

Okay, but why did Connor have superhuman strength and tracking abilities? He seemed at times to have all the powers of a vampire but in a human form. At one time, Angel wondered if the prophecies about his own role in the Apocalypse were actually referring to Connor - that Angel's destiny was to train Connor to play that oft-referenced 'pivotal role' in the Apocalypse.

There was so much more that could have been done with Connor on Angel - but the program mostly reduced him to a whiny brat who would typically insult Angel then get punched in the face. It was not much fun to watch back when it first aired. Still, at least the character was redeemed in season 5. And heck, Connor isn't my biggest problem with Angel...

Tomorrow: Cordelia.