The Man Who Literally Built Star Wars

Thursday, June 12th, 2014

Roger Christian is the man who literally built Star Wars; he was the set designer on the original movie, before it even got funding:

[George Lucas] didn’t want anything [in Star Wars] to stand out, he wanted it all real and used. And I said, “Finally somebody’s doing it the right way.” All science fiction before was very plastic and stupid uniforms and Flash Gordon stuff. Nothing was new. George was going right against that. My first conversation with him was that spaceships should be things you see in garages with oil dripping and they keep repairing them to keep them going, because that’s how the world is. So we had the conversation and I got hired. I was the third person hired on Star Wars, in fact.

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The Millennium Falcon was difficult, because I had to train prop men to break down jet engines into scrap pieces and then line them all up into different categories and stick them to the walls.

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I told George gingerly one day, “I cannot afford to dress these sets, I can’t get anything made in the studio,” but my idea was to make it like a submarine interior. And if I bought airplane scrap and broke it down, I could stick it in the sets in specific ways — because there’s an order to doing it, it’s not just random. And that’s the art of it. I understood how to do that — engineering and all that stuff. So George said, “Yes, go do it.” And airplane scrap at that time, nobody wanted it. There were junkyards full of it, because they sold it by weight. I could buy almost an entire plane for 50 pounds.

Mean World Syndrome

Friday, May 30th, 2014

George Gerbner fled Hungary in 1939, returned with the Allies in 1943, and certainly saw many terrible things, but he was much more concerned with what people ended up watching on television after the war and said it led to Mean World Syndrome:

People who spent a great deal of time watching television, he found, had an inaccurate picture of the world. They felt that violence, corruption, and danger were more widespread than they were in reality. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Television is modern-day religion:

It presents a coherent vision of the world. And this vision of the world, he says, is violent, mean, repressive, dangerous — and inaccurate. Television programming is the toxic by-product of market forces run amok. Television has the capacity to be a culturally enriching force, but, Gerbner warns, today it breeds what fear and resentment mixed with economic frustration can lead to — the undermining of democracy.

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Whoever tells most of the stories to most of the people most of the time has effectively assumed the cultural role of parent and school,” Gerbner says, “… teaching us most of what we know in common about life and society.” In fact, by the time children reach school age, they will have spent more hours in front of the television than they will ever spend in college classrooms. Television, in short, has become a cultural force equaled in history only by organized religion. Only religion has had this power to transmit the same messages about reality to every social group, creating a common culture. Most people do not have to wait for, plan for, go out to, or seek out television, for the TV is on more than seven hours a day in the average American home. It comes to you directly. It has become a member of the family, telling its stories patiently, compellingly, untiringly. We choose to read The New York Times, or Dickens, or an entomology text. We choose to listen to Bach or Bartók, or at least to a classical station or a rock station or a jazz station. But we just watch TV — turn it on, see what’s on. And in Gerbner’s view it is an upper-middle-class conceit to say “Just turn off the television” — in most homes there is nothing as compelling as television at any time of the day or night.

It is significant that this viewing is nonselective. It’s why Gerbner believes that the Cultural Indicators project methodology — looking at television’s overall patterns rather than at the effects of specific shows — is the best approach. It is long-range exposure to television, rather than a specific violent act on a specific episode of a specific show, that cultivates fixed conceptions about life in viewers.

Nor is the so-called hard news, even when held distinct from infotainment shows like Hard Copy and A Current Affair, exempt from the disproportionate violence and misrepresentations on television in general. The old news saw “If it bleeds, it leads” usually prevails. Watch your local newscast tonight: it is not unlikely that the majority of news stories will be about crime or disaster — and it may well be that all six stories will be from outside your state, especially if you live far from any major metropolis. Fires and shootings are much cheaper and easier to cover than politics or community events. Violent news also generates higher ratings, and since the standards for television news are set by market researchers, what we get is lots of conformity, lots of violence. As the actor and director Edward James Olmos has pointedly observed, “For every half hour of TV news, you have twenty-three minutes of programming and seven minutes of commercials. And in that twenty-three minutes, if it weren’t for the weather and the sports, you would not have any positive news. As for putting in even six minutes of hope, of pride, of dignity — it doesn’t sell.” The author and radio personality Garrison Keillor puts it even more pointedly: “It’s as bloody as Shakespeare but without the intelligence and the poetry. If you watch television news you know less about the world than if you drank gin out of a bottle.”

The strength of television’s influence on our understanding of the world should not be underestimated. “Television’s Impact on Ethnic and Racial Images,” a study sponsored by the American Jewish Committee’s Institute for American Pluralism and other groups, found that ethnic and racial images on television powerfully shape the way adolescents perceive ethnicity and race in the real world. “In dealing with socially relevant topics like racial and ethnic relations,” the study said, “TV not only entertains, it conveys values and messages that people may absorb unwittingly — particularly young people.” Among viewers watching more than four hours each day, 25 percent said that television showed “what life is really like” and 40 percent said they learned a lot from television. African-Americans especially, the study showed, rely on television to learn about the world.

Television, in short, tells all the stories. Gerbner is fond of quoting the Scottish patriot Andrew Fletcher, who wrote to the Marquise of Montrose in 1704, “If I were permitted to write all the ballads I need not care who makes the laws of the nation.” Fletcher identified the governing power of, in Gerbner’s words, a “centralized system of ballads — the songs, legends, and stories that convey both information and what we call entertainment.” Television has become this centralized system; it is the cultural arm of the state that established religion once was. “Television satisfies many previously felt religious needs for participating in a common ritual and for sharing beliefs about the meaning of life and the modes of right conduct,” Gerbner has written. “It is, therefore, not an exaggeration to suggest that the licensing of television represents the modern functional equivalent of government establishment of religion.” A scary collapsing, in other words, of church into state.

Ralph Lauren’s Fading Fantasy

Wednesday, May 21st, 2014

Ralph Lauren isn’t a company in trouble, Virginia Postrel says, but its brand image depends on an ideal of the good life that, to those unaccustomed to hardship, looks out-of-touch and even a little dull:

Glamour isn’t about a specific style. It’s about channeling the audience’s longings into compelling images of escape and transformation. Both those longings and the images that embody them change with the times.

“The world of Ralph Lauren” isn’t universally alluring. It’s created from the images and ideals that enchanted a poor Bronx boy born in 1939: the country life of the WASP leisure class, cowboys in the American west, exotic African safaris, aviators wearing bomber jackets.

Lauren often compares his work to filmmaking. “What I do is make movies with my clothes,” he recently told the Telegraph. But he isn’t talking about today’s films. He’s talking about yesterday’s.

Explaining his “timeless” approach to fashion, he cited a movie from his teens: “Watch Cary Grant in ‘To Catch a Thief’ tomorrow, next year, whenever — you would still want to be him at the end of it. And a woman will want to be Grace Kelly. That’s timeless.”

In fact, that’s 1955, with stars born in 1904 and 1929. Grant and Kelly are still compelling, their clothes still look good, and the film is much loved by classic-movie fans. But “To Catch a Thief” is a historical artifact. Its vision of leisured, international wealth spoke to the striving, upwardly mobile, little-traveled American audiences of the mid-20th century, including the young Ralph Lifshitz. The children and grandchildren of those moviegoers live different lives and dream different dreams.

What if AMC took the plunge and unbundled from cable?

Wednesday, May 14th, 2014

Right now, AMC is much like most other cable networks, getting its revenue from advertising and fees, but what if AMC took the plunge and unbundled from cable?

On the other side of the spectrum is Netflix, which shows that you can deliver a compelling service for $8 to $10 a month without forcing consumers to buy into a cable bundle. Industry insiders have long argued that TV networks can’t follow the same economics — that unbundling isn’t possible because it would raise the price of individual TV networks so much that a $100 cable bundle would look cheap in comparison.

This begs the question: How much of that $100 bill goes to each and every network? The answer is that these numbers vary widely depending on the audience a network draws as well as the leverage it has. ESPN for example is a must-have network that can ask for a premium because of the many popular sporting events it carries. It is estimated that ESPN as the most expensive network charges TV providers $6 per month for every subscriber, whether they watch sports or not (to ESPN’s defense, almost half of them do).

The math is starting to look a little different when you are talking about a network like AMC. Mind you, none of these contracts are public, but the analysts at SNL Kagan recently estimated that TV operators pay an average of $0.33 per subscriber for AMC, which makes it not only cheaper than the sports networks, but also puts it behind TNT ($1.33 per subscriber), the Disney channel ($1.15 per subscriber) and USA Networks ($0.71 per subscriber).

AMC is currently in 99 million U.S. households, which means that the network makes about $32.6 million per month from retransmission fees. So if 3.2 million people paid $10 a month for a Netflix-style AMC subscription, it could ditch the retransmission revenue stream entirely. Mind you, the Breaking Bad series finale was watched by 10.2 million people, and the recent Walking Dead season 4 finale attracted 15.7 million viewers.

Of course, this is extremely simplified back-of-the-envelope math, and doesn’t account for a whole bunch of factors. For instance, subscribers of such a service presumably wouldn’t want to see ads, and AMC Networks currently makes about 45 percent of its money with advertising.

Letter from Cameron to Giger’s Agent

Wednesday, May 14th, 2014

When James Cameron made Aliens, he did not bring H.R. Giger on board as his production designer, even though Giger created the iconic look of the original Alien. After he finished production, Cameron wrote this letter to Giger’s agent:

Letter from Cameron to Giger about Aliens

Giger Dies at 74

Tuesday, May 13th, 2014

Alien artist H.R. Giger dies at age 74:

Born Hans Ruedi Giger on Feb. 5, 1940, in the southeastern Swiss town of Chur, he trained as an industrial designer because his father insisted that he learn a proper trade.

His mother Melli, to whom he showed a lifelong devotion, encouraged her son’s passion for art, despite his unconventional obsession with death and sex that found little appreciation in 1960s rural Switzerland. The host of one of his early exhibitions was reportedly forced to wipe the spit of disgusted neighbors off the gallery windows every morning.

A collection of his early work, “Ein Fressen fuer den Psychiater” — “A Feast for the Psychiatrist”—used mainly ink and oil, but Giger soon discovered the airbrush and pioneered his own freehand technique. He also created sculptures, preferably using metal, styorofoam and plastic.

Giger’s vision of a human skull encased in a machine appeared on the cover of “Brain Salad Surgery,” a 1973 album by the rock band Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Along with his design for Debbie Harry’s solo album, “Koo Koo” (1981), it featured in a 1991 Rolling Stone magazine list of the top 100 album covers of all time.

Giger went on to work as a set designer for Hollywood, contributing to “Species,” ”Poltergeist II,” ”Dune,” and most famously “Alien,” for which he received a 1979 Academy Award for special effects. Frequently frustrated by the Hollywood production process, Giger eventually disowned much of the work that was attributed to him on screen.

Giger with Alien Statue

The image of a brooding, mysterious artist was nurtured by Giger working only at night, keeping his curtains permanently drawn and dressing mainly in black — a habit he acquired while working as a draftsman because it made Indian ink stains stand out less on his clothes.

While his work was commercially successful, critics derided it as morbid kitsch. His designs were exhibited more frequently in “Alien” theme bars, short-lived Giger museums and at tattoo conventions than in established art galleries.

In 1998, Giger acquired the Chateau St. Germain in Gruyeres and established the H.R. Giger Museum.

The Lion’s Gate

Sunday, May 11th, 2014

Steven Pressfield has embraced his (secular) Jewish heritage and written a new book about the Six Day War, The Lion’s Gate. He discusses the process with his agent, and this bit on MiG-killers and the death burst caught my attention:

Pinnipèdes

Saturday, May 10th, 2014

Pinnipèdes is a 3D animated short about elephant seals:

Watch Superman Fly Through His 75-Year History

Saturday, May 10th, 2014

Watch Superman fly through his 75-Year History:

Les Pyramides d’Égypte

Friday, May 9th, 2014

The pyramids of Egypt slowly revealed their secrets to archeologists:

(Hat tip to io9.)

Death Stars Bad, Droids Good

Wednesday, May 7th, 2014

When Dan Ward introduced his daughter to the Star Wars movies, she came to this conclusion: “Daddy, they shouldn’t build those Death Stars any more. They keep getting blown up.”

Dan Ward is a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Air Force, an acquisition officer, and he agrees that Death Stars are overrated military investments:

In addition to the observation that Death Stars “keep getting blown up,” which prevents them from being very effective, I also noticed they are inevitably over budget and behind schedule. Then I read an interview in which George Lucas himself anointed the humble astromech droid R2-D2 as “the hero of the whole thing.” The conclusion for how the military spends its money was clear: Death Stars bad, droids good.

This counterintuitive finding was not entirely unexpected. Since the early 2000s, I’d been developing and experimenting with an approach to innovation based on restraint — tight budgets, short schedules, small teams, and highly focused objectives. This was a relatively unusual approach for an Air Force officer to take, given my service’s longstanding preference for spending decades and billions developing enormous, multi-role systems. Indeed, these mega-projects are the most prestigious and the surest path to promotion in the military, which helps explain why we build so many of them.

And yet, while they may be impressive to work on, Death Stars contribute very little to the fight, partly because they’re always behind schedule and partly because they explode on a regular basis. This pattern is not limited to the movies.

The Army’s Comanche helicopter (22 years + $7 billion = zero helicopters) and the Joint Tactical Radio System (15 years and $6 billion before it was cancelled) are just two recent examples. But as the Government Accountability Office helpfully notes, these huge projects overall tend to “cost more, take longer to field, and often encounter performance problems” — not unlike the Empire’s moon-sized battle station. This means there are economic as well as operational reasons not to build them, which perhaps explains why I get a very bad feeling whenever I’m around one.

Real-life performance data shows that the most important and high-impact technologies are not the gold-plated, over-engineered wonder weapons that turn majors into colonels, colonels into generals, and young Jedi apprentices into Sith Lords. Instead, data suggest the real winners are humble, simple, low-cost products made by small, rapid innovation teams — the type of projects that don’t attract much attention from the press or from the brass because all they do is get the mission done without any fuss.

Defense analyst Pierre Sprey has written extensively about these “cheap winners” and “expensive losers,” a pattern which also showed up in my career.

He goes on to mention some real-world projects. Oddly, he never once mentions Lockheed’s famous Skunk Works.

Best PSA by a Paramilitary Organization

Sunday, May 4th, 2014

And the Emmy for best PSA by a paramilitary organization goes to…

“And awareness is the second fifty percent of the conflict in question!”

Green Lantern: The Focus Group

Friday, May 2nd, 2014

Giancarlo Volpe presents a behind-the-scenes look at the early stages of Green Lantern: The Animated Series, when it went through focus group testing:

Green Lantern Focus Group 05

Green Lantern Focus Group 06

Green Lantern Focus Group 07

Green Lantern Focus Group 08

Peter Parkour

Thursday, May 1st, 2014

The recent Spider-Man movies have all used computer graphics to create an obviously fake Spider-Man swinging and flipping about, but Ronnie Shalvis decided to don a Spider-Man costume and perform some Amazing Spider-Man Parkour:

Why We Look the Way We Look Now

Wednesday, April 30th, 2014

The way we dress now took recognizable shape during the 1930s:

Men got jackets with substantial shoulder pads and darts at the waist. Women acquired sportswear, in fabrics and designs that followed the lines of the figure: clothes made for movement and ease — and equipped with pockets. They spelled escape from dependence on the handbag (or a husband’s pockets). The brassiere, an invention only a few decades old, grew molded cups for uplift and became standard garb. And where would we be without slacks? For women, they still counted as daring 80 years ago, but there was no doubt that they would catch on.

Look closely at the emergence of our modern style, and you can see politics in the fabric seams. Economic collapse and the search for social unity — the conditions that made the New Deal possible — created an unlikely alignment of tastes. Streamlined clothes appealed to the still prosperous, anxious to hide their wealth, and to the downwardly mobile, who hoped to conceal their slide. The sleek look in dresswear issued from Paris, where a pioneering generation of career women colonized the couture scene. The clean lines spread to New York’s Seventh Avenue, where an equally visionary set of American women designers, foremost among them Claire McCardell, spearheaded the sportswear boom. They shared a bold vision: to exploit the idea of femininity and sex appeal in order to achieve a more natural fashion, liberated from shifting conventions — a timeless style.

A timeless obsession took root, too. The elegantly simple creations inspired by this convergence of social tensions and taste disguised wealth, or the lack of it, but revealed an awful lot else. There was no hiding the figure under these clothes. The toned and exercised body became a marker of privilege, a status signal that has become only more glaring since. We have the 1930s to thank for a by-now-familiar paradox: Americans’ clothes became more similar even as their bodies diverged along class lines.

For men as for women, the changes in fashion were startling. Suits were now designed to build a man up. The sack-suit jacket, a floppy construction, had revealed drooping shoulders; the pants readily slipped below bulging bellies. But the redefined suit, born in London and Naples, bid farewell to all that. On Savile Row, the Dutch-born tailor Frederick Scholte took as his model the scarlet coats worn by members of the Brigade of Guards, famous emblems of masculinity (and, infamously, the lust objects of gay men, as a series of sex scandals demonstrated). Scholte’s “drape” method of cutting cloth broadened the shoulders and narrowed the waist, making a man look taller, slimmer, and more muscular. Suddenly anyone could take on the dashing figure of a guardsman. In 1933, Esquire, a lavish 116 pages and 50 cents on the newsstands (this at a time when the average household income was about $29 a week), sold out its first print run. The magazine, conceived as a quarterly, turned monthly with its second issue.

For the ladies, accentuating femininity was the goal. The flapper’s straight, dropped-waist dress of the 1920s — a garment so loose that it could be pulled on over the head — was gone. Dresses were fashioned from clingy materials and cut on the bias, diagonally across the grain of the cloth; the technique exploited the stretch of the fabric to emphasize the curves of the body. New methods of weaving produced fabrics ideal for sinuous designs: mousselines and supple velvets, silk gauzes and chiffons. Every year, more body was exposed. At the beach and by the pool, women could dare to show off in midriff-revealing two-piece swimsuits. Evening gowns dipped down backs, displaying naked flesh. Nightgowns were slinky and slippery. It could be hard to distinguish between what 1930s women wore to galas and what they wore to bed at night.

Hollywood hyped the new look, broadcasting it to the tens of millions of people who flocked to American cinemas every week during the movie-mad Depression.