[del]Faust[/del] Eric
PTerry has really hit his stride by the tenth Discworld book. Moving Pictures is a very definite and clear satire on the topic of Hollywood, in the same vein as the later Maskerade (which spoofs Phantom of the Opera) or The Last Continent (a riff on Australia), as opposed to less obvious satires (Feet of Clay, for instance, or Night Watch).
I think this marks the first appearance ever of Gaspode, the real Wonder Dog, and the future Constable Detritus (along with his girlfriend Ruby–whatever happens to her, later on?) I wonder what becomes of Victor and Ginger afterwards…
As far as I can recall, this is, indeed, the debut of Gaspode (though not ourGaspode), though the resolution of the Holy Wood gave him a bit of a career downturn…I understand he began to hang out with the homeless and insane (and worse…I’ve always had my suspicions about that duck).
The first Discworld I ever read in English, and a very impressive outing. I winced at a few of the jokes (notably the “Laddie” thing…), but overall I liked it very much. However, I need to say that I liked it less than Pyramids, which I read later, and Guards! Guards!, which I read later still. That may be because I aged (a year or so), but it’s more likely because I thought Pyramids was a more original idea, and Guards! Guards! kept me more involved with the characters than did Moving Pictures. However, it was better than all the rest of the early books.
I find this one to be pleasantly amusing, but it is a bit laboured. It falls back on easy humour, which occasionally isn’t such a bad thing, but in itself can be a bit overwhelmingly deliberate. Still, I usually find Pratchett’s concepts, and the way he can even turn a potentially predictable idea into something original, which he doe here, even if it is the same ‘magical element is released, slowly grows, then is overpowering, until bumbling wizards and hero manage to sort it all out again’ plot.
By the way, Detritus had been mentioned before as the bouncer (or splatter) at the Mended Drum. But this was the first time he became a character in his own right.
I wouldn’t mind seeing more of Victor and Ginger, though.
All in all, not a bad effort. Some action for the Librarian, a happy ending, and a skewering of any number of Hollywood cliches. Not to mention one of my favorite quotes:
Azhural raised his staff. “It’s fifteen hundred miles to Ankh-Morpork,” he said. “We’ve got three hundred and sixty-three elephants, fifty carts of forage, the monsoon’s about to break and we’re wearing… we’re wearing… sort of things, like glass, only dark… dark glass things on our eyes…”
I read a few of the Discworld books out of order, and Ridcully changed quite a bit, huh? Same goes for Ponder. In this one, he’s not made out to be competent at all. You get the impression that the only reason he even passed was because of Victor (or maybe because of notVictor). Either way, I enjoyed it. It started off slow but picked up by the end.
Well, in theory, the Bursar could be the same person who was the Bursar during Sourcery. But this is the first book with the modern humorously incompetent wizards instead of the old, scheming ones.
What’s up with Ridcully managing the family estates for years? That rather flies in the face of the Archchancellor’s youthful fling with Granny Weatherwax, and his later unrequitted letter campaign. Where were these estates if not in Lancre? Did Ridcully’s brother Hughnon also spend years in the sticks before becoming high priest of blind IO?
This book was a good time waster. The type of book I look for when shoping for in-flight reading material. Light enough that I don’t mind being disturbed constantly but intersting enough to keep me form getting bored. Nothing profound but not boring or stupid either.
One of those books that I don’t regret reading but wouldn’t regeret not having read either.
Not really. In “Lords and Ladies” he mentions that when he was a student he used to spend his holodays with an Uncle who lived in Lancre. No mention was made of there being any family estates in Lancre.
Remember that there was trend amongst Wizards at one stage to be faux-druidic, so it’s entirely plausible and consitent that Ridcully’s Uncle was living in a cave somewhere in Lancre. That would explain why almost Ridcully’s memories of his visits were of the countryside.
AFAIK it’s never specified where they are. The fact that Ridcully spent his holidays in Lancre with an Uncle does tell us that that his Father lived somewhere outside Lancre. Lancre is only a few miles across, so it would make no sense for him not to stay with his own parents if they also lived in Lancre. That likelwise suggests that his Father’s estates were also not in Lancre.
Ruby and Detritus get married and have a kid. It’s mentioned in…damn, they all blur together.
Moving Pictures wasn’t a favorite of mine, I’ve only read it once and felt kind of blah. I’ll have to pull it off the shelf again and see if I’ve changed my mind.
Great, I’m completely out of synch again (currently re-reading Thud, having failed to finish Eric) I re-read Moving Pictures a couple of months back. I found it a bit a bit too high concept in that there’s just the one central idea (everyone is enchanted by Holy Wood*****) but has enough Pratchettisms to keep me laughing and reading. You have to like a story that ends with a 50-foot woman climbing the tallest building holding [del]a monk[/del] an ape******.
Did I miss something or is the origin of the Oscar/guard (and the priest’s ritual to keep Holy Wood in check) never explained? In Soul Music it’s clear that the music with rocks in is leaking from our reality into Discworld. Is the ancient cinema/church explained at all?
***** I know Soul Music does something very similar, but I think a bit less clunk-ly.
****** and a thousand elephants! (actually I don’t remember did the elephants ever arrive?)
Ruby and Detritus are married, but it is mentioned in Thud that their union is childless.
I do like Moving Pictures but I have to say it’s not one of my favourites. The fact that Gaspode loses his Wonder Dog powers, only to have them again in later books (with the excuse that the second time, it was caused by sleeping near the University), just slightly… niggles. Nothing wrong with it, and Gaspode does refer back to this book (“last time it happened I ended up having to save the world” etc).
I still laugh at the Wizards using some badly made wire hooks to go over their ears, to make it look as though their beards are false, so they don’t look like Wizards. Genius.
I don’t tend to re-read the standalone books as much as I do those with recurring characters - I like the way characters develop over time, it’s interesting to see what paths they choose to take. It’s harder with this book, although of course there are some of the Wizards. The arrival of the more stable Wizardly faculty is to be welcomed, to my mind, as there’s the chance for character development there, and I really think the Wizards come good over time.
I’ve always thought this was Pratchett’s weakest Discworld novel. I think the book’s main weakness was how heavily the plot hinged on the Dungeon Dimensions. They’ve never been a particularly strong plot device. It’s the fact that they never had any of the character or motivation that makes a satisfying villain. They are the Discworld equivalent of a monster from a slasher flick. Luckily this was the last use of the Dungeon Dimensions, and Pterry abandoned the “Wizards band together to defeat a supernatural menace to Ankh-Morpork” plot soon afterwards. It’s one of his weakest books, because Pterry greatest strength is not his sense of humor but his thoughtfulness, and this was his least thoughtful book.
Not one of my favourites, but a solid book - Like Soul Music it works a lot better when all the references make sense, IMO, when you know what particular Hollywood actor or movie is being parodied (I’ll add that that Blues Bros. reference is my favourite, but also the “looks like my uncle Oscar” reference too.).
I think the temple/Holy Wood is just one of those generic cursed sites, one of the places where the world is thinner and the DDs can get closer.
Victor and Ginger didn’t particularly do it for me as leads, though. I had no wish to read more about them as characters, unlike say the Watch or Witches. Definitely one-shots for me.
I think this is the first book where Pterry abandons all efforts to spoof fantasy as a genre and start writing satire about Roundworld. As a first outing, it works, and it grew from there.
This (and to an extent Soul Music) feels like a book version of a Mel Brooks film. It’s easy to spoof westerns, Universal horror movies and 50’s suspense movies, but where do you go from there? Brooks failed, IMO, and his efforts felt more and more listless with time. If I try to look at Blazing Saddles now with totally fresh eyes, I think it couldn’t be done today. It’s actually almost subversive amid all the slapstick (or slapschtick, even). Not so with Life Stinks.
Pratchett took a different route and became more and more serious, looking at the foundations of popular trends, rather than spoofing the trends per se. I think Moving Pictures is an accomplished parody of Hollywood, and of course, the wonder dog is one of my favorite characters, as is Dibbler.
They can’t carry a plot alone, though, and Victor isn’t interesting enough for me to care for him. As other have mentioned, the dungeon dimensions went stale a lot earlier. All in all I like it, but maybe that’s because I’m a film geek and I love all the references (Blues Brothers return in Soul Music when they’re on a Mission From Glod).
And here I was just telling myself, “Self, methinks it’s time for another installment of the DWRC on Monday.”
As someone who has lived in the shadow of the Hollywood sign for 30 years, it’s not a surprise that I loved this book – aside from the polished writing and fun characters, Pterry artfully skewers the mindset and attitude of the moviemaking business. The fantic building of Holy Wood hovels, Silverfish’s amateurish (compared to Dibbler, anyway) movie mogul aspirations, the premiere of Blown Away, it’s all fantastically fun. I thought the plot meandered a little near the middle (from Holy Wood to the cavern, back to Holy Wood, back to Ankh-Morpork, and back to the cavern again), but that’s probably quibbling more than anything else.
Actually, I don’t believe Gaspode started hanging out with Foul Ol’ Ron et al until after the events of Men-At-Arms.
Carrot managed to wrangle a happy home with loving children and a yard for Gaspode (aka “Mr. Huggy”), who buggered away at first opportunity.
Nobby: “Looks like – would you say it was a thousand elephants, Sarge?” Colon: “Yeah. About a thousand, I’d say.” Nobby: “Thought it looked about a thousand.” Colon: “Man down there says Throat ordered 'em.” Nobby: “Get away? he’s going into this Jumbo Sausage thing in a big way, then?”
And we never got to see the wedding “on screen,” either.
Well, at least he avoided his original fate,
which was to get killed at the end of Moving Pictures.
Not quite; that premise returns in Reaper Man, though it wasn’t the Dungeon Dimensions. I agree with the sentiment that the DDs were getting overused, but it makes sense that the wizards would get involved if a supernatural threat pops up – they are, after all, the experts on the topic.
Not really. It’s implied that in this case the idea of the Oscar (and the Rank animated logo) leaked into our world from the Discworld rather than the other way around.
To me it seems quite in keeping with what we know about Discworld magic and these sorts of transformations, specifically that once a transformation is made it becomes easier to do again. Think about what happened with Greebo. So it seems kind of natural that Gaspode would return to intelligent form.
I’d not considered that, it’s a good point. As I said, it just niggles - it’s like PTerry created the character, then had him turn back into a normal dog. Then realised that the character was popular, so brought him back in some (not entirely unlikely) way. Still, I do like Gaspode, particularly in Men At Arms, which is one of my favourites.
