Film Review: The Passion of the Christ

"The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again." - Luke, Chapter 24 Verse 7

The birth and death of Jesus has been covered thoroughly across many biblical epics, but there has always been a gleaming Hollywood polish to them.  If you look at films like Ben Hur or The Greatest Story Ever Told, there's surprisingly little passion in the Passion of the Christ; it's as if these films sugar-coat the events in favor of crafting a safe and fluffy audience-pleasing spectacle.  That's not to say that these films lack merit; on the contrary, they are most valuable for bringing the events to life in a manner that all Christians can identify with, young or old.  Their universal appeal makes them go-to classics, especially for Easter time.

In 2004, Mel Gibson dared to give us a portrayal of Jesus' death that is far more uncompromising, and arguably closer to what could have really happened.  The Passion of the Christ is not a colorful or happy affair; it's a harrowing experience that lingers on the cruelty and violence, constantly underscoring the hideous nature of mankind.  This is not an easy thing to watch; the camera tracks every blow Jesus takes, every cruel moment in which He is shamed and spit upon, every crack of the whip that breaks His flesh, and every hard step He takes toward Golgotha.  The film goes on and on, purposefully placing the audience into His footsteps so that we ultimately feel His agony and face the ugliness of what happened.  The film was highly controversial on its release, and remains so; many audiences can't stomach the brutality of the film, and would argue that such violence is unnecessary.  Many others have harped on the director's personal sensibilities, temperament, and antisemitism, arguing that the film is too hateful and purposefully asserts an antisemitic agenda.  Such criticisms have proven to be a source of heated debate, even to this day.

Regardless of how you regard this film, one thing is certain:  it is a uniquely intense experience that brings the events to life in a way that no other film before it has.  The Passion has a blunt but jarring and powerful cinematic experience that makes the characters and situations fresh and inspiring.  Even if you're intimately familiar with the story, the film takes some striking artistic liberties that reinforce the themes and ideas of the film sublimely.

The storytelling for this film is impeccable.  It follows the book of Luke practically word for word, but takes a few deviations to cover some important flashbacks that reinforce the characters and the messages of Jesus.  It's hard to know how close to reality the film comes, but it comes very close, especially in regards to its look, style, and language (it's mostly the violence that borders on being ridiculously overdone).  The film does a fantastic job of covering the passages of the Bible accurately, and emphasizing the importance of Jesus' sacrifice with tangible themes and messages.  By the film's end, after seeing so much cruelty being poured into Jesus, I really did have a much better understanding of the importance of His sacrifice and suffering, and it made the experience of the film most worthwhile in the long run.

Despite its artistic liberties and emphasis on violence, the film has a very strong and vivid style, with incredible photography and editing techniques.  Acting is decent; Jim Caviezel has limited dialogue to work with, but shows enough nuances in his physical performance to bring Jesus to life in a believable and distinctive manner.  The supporting cast is really decent as well.  Writing is effective, especially in the way it incorporates the Bible's words in with the drama.  The film is most notable for using authentic Aramaic and Latin dialogue.  This production uses some very detailed and real-looking sets, props, and costumes.  Music has an authentic feel to it as well; it's quite haunting, but at times it maintains a subtle sense of divinity.

I personally value The Passion the most for its powerful, vivid presentation, and for helping me understand the significance of Jesus' sacrifice in a refreshingly bold context.  For its brutal violence and arguable antisemitic overtones, this is not a film I would universally recommend to audiences; the best I can say is that if you think you can stomach the experience, you should at least give it a try.  You may find this film rewarding.

5/5 (Experience:  Perfect | Story:  Perfect | Film:  Perfect)

This film is on my list of Top 100 Favorite Films at #8.

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Writing: Plotting "Prometheus" Style

So I finally got around to re-watching the film Prometheus, and I took the time to investigate the bonus features on the Blu-Ray disc.  If you get the full-blown 4-disc edition, you'll be gifted with a bonus disc with a massive four hour documentary, which details every step of the film's production process.  This includes some insight on the writing process behind Prometheus, with screenwriters John Spaihts and Damon Lindelof describing how they condensed all their (and Ridley Scott's) ideas into a final draft.  It took months of work and multiple drafts to iron out the final script and get the story straightened out.

A branching segment of the Prometheus documentary provided an insightful little secret that I realized could benefit all writers who may be struggling to get their own stories off the ground.  As the writers for Prometheus indicated, every writing project will have different blocks and different levels of difficulties, and it's very much true.  There are some stories I can blast through pretty easily while keeping track of everything in my head.  But when you start adding on multiple characters, concepts, scenes, settings, and more, it can be easy to lose track of what's going on.

To mitigate such a problem, one of the writers made up a board game of sorts, and "gamed" his way through the plot for Prometheus.  Using a homemade board, checker pieces, and other tokens, he would move the characters around in the different settings as the story progressed.  He flipped the tokens to indicate if a character becomes infected or mutated.  He removed them if they were killed.  He also used pieces to keep track of where certain locations (such as the medical bay) were located, especially since some of them were mobile.  With half a dozen different characters being juggled around in this movie, this process allowed the writer to make sure he knew where each person was at a given time, and what they were doing at their locations.

If you're having difficulty trying to figure out your own plot lines, why not give this method a try? A board or mat, some game pieces, or even just slips of paper, will allow you to tangibly manipulate your plot and make sure you can keep track of your characters.  It may not need to be as elaborate as a game board; you could cut up index cards and arrange them on a table.  You could try outlining the plot.  Different approaches may benefit different stories; the best I can tell you is to experiment with hands-on tools to see if anything can help you, the way it helped the writers of Prometheus.

For more information, check out the special features disc for the film Prometheus, and play the documentary The Furious Gods:  Making Prometheus.  Ensure that the expanded experience option is on, and about 30 - 45 minutes into the program, push enter when the prompt appears, for the video segment entitled The Prometheus Board Game.

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Writing: How to Describe a Room

I've noticed lately in the stats that people have been actively searching for "how to describe a room." Even though I had done a writing prompt that called for using the description of a room, I never did go over the particulars of describing locations.  So for anybody looking for some specific answers, here are my thoughts on describing interior settings, for fiction and prose.

First and foremost, you got to ask yourself, what importance is the room or setting to the story or characters? If the room is only there for a brief passing scene, it may just suffice to say "so-and-so went into the broom closet.  It was dark, cramped, and loaded with brooms." That may be all you need.

For more significant settings, where you really do want to paint the picture in the readers' heads and firmly establish a sense of space or ambiance, then of course you'll want to dig into more details.  The key issue here is that you don't want to overdo it.  Unless you're typing out an architectural report or something, there's no real need for a reader to understand the full dimensions of the space, or what the composition of the walls are, or anything technical like that.  You will want to cover the overall impression of space, color, mood, atmosphere, furnishings, props, and anything else, as long as it's distinctive, relevant, and contributes to the story or image in some way.

The objects in a room - furniture and stuff - may or may not factor into your scene.  If you say that people are in the living room, chances are that the reader will automatically populate the room with their own idea of what a living room will have:  likely a sofa, a TV, etc.  So there may not be a need to describe what furniture is in that room, especially if such furnishings are not going to be actively used.  On the other hand, if the characters are going to use something, it may be necessary to establish such things early in the scene, so the reader can understand that the given thing exists and the characters aren't just making it materialize.  For example, if characters are in a room with a gun on the table, and one of the characters grabs the gun and uses it, it'll help to explain right away that there is indeed a gun on the table.  Otherwise, it'll sound like the gun just magically appeared on the table.  It may not be necessary for some things (grabbing a knife from the kitchen would be self-explanatory), but this kind of thing should be set up for everything else that isn't so obvious.

You'll also want to describe things if they're not usually associated with a given place.  For example, in Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land, some living rooms had expensive lawns in them, with actual soil and grass growing in the middle of the room.  It was important to describe them, because the characters used the indoor lawns, and even commented on them.  Later in the story, one of these lawns was ruined.  It serviced the story (plus, an average reader will not associate grass in a common living room).  For sci-fi and fantasy stories, where settings are imagined and re-imagined more vividly, more description may be necessary to paint a picture of a futuristic or otherworldly setting in the readers' heads.

Another thing to consider will be what the items of a room, or its decor and layout, says about the characters.  If the room is messy, you can conclude that the character is disorganized, and thus you find another way to show a character trait.  Or, if the room has expensive art, you can infer that a character has refined tastes (or maybe he just pretends to).  The possibilities on this level are limitless; if a detail is relevant to a character, you will want to capitalize on it.

In the end, however, all of this will depend on your own personal writing style.  Different writers will write settings in different ways.  Wordy writers like Stephen King or JRR Tolkein could spend pages and pages talking about the stuff in their rooms; James Patterson never seems to describe any of his settings, especially if they're common places.  Really, the best advice I could give is to simply approach the scene naturally, and write out the first things that come to mind.  If nothing comes to mind, just proceed with the scene in the given setting with sparse details; chances are that you don't need details anyway.  If you're compelled to say more about the setting, then try indulging in such details as your imagination allows, and see what comes out.  It should be a natural occurrence; if you're stuck on describing a place, it might be best to just skip ahead, write the next scene, and go back in the rewriting session to see if you really need to add anything more.

And when it comes to your own writing style, there is no set way to describe a place.  It's not like you go through a room step-by-step to introduce the walls, floors, furnishings, etc to a reader.  If anything, this will come off as dry, long, and uninteresting.  If you have to explain every little thing about a room, it would be better to break up the exposition with action or dialogue; you have to keep the story moving, and lingering on interior design may stall plot progression.  You also don't want to make the language describing the room overly dry or overly flowery; just use your natural narration. 

In summary...

Do:

• Keep it simple.
• Talk about colors, patterns, decor, and unique architectural details, if they're relevant.
• Talk about furnishings and props, especially if characters use them.
• Talk about anything in the room if it reveals something about the characters within. 
• Talk about space.
• Talk about unique details that readers may not usually associate with a given place (especially for sci-fi and fantasy works, where the settings are purposefully different anyway).
• Describe it naturally with your own personal writing style and sensibilities.

Don't:

• Get technical or overly-explicit.
• Divulge in unnecessary details.
• Tell about room's atmosphere or impression; show it instead.
• Overthink or overdo things.
• Dump details in one long paragraph.
• Describe things in a dull, dry, choppy, or uninteresting manner; use your natural narrative voice.
• Describe things that the reader will already assume for a given place, especially if such things don't contribute to the story.

For some examples, here are some excerpts from my own projects, with varying levels of description (not to mention varying levels of skill and nuance).  I think you'll find that I'm very light in details, and just give just enough to keep things flowing.  Chances are that I may break my own rules above (I've always been pretty bad at "showing not telling"), because it's as much of a learning process for me as it is for everybody else.

From Rider of the White Horse, Chapter 25
I wrote this story as far back as high school; I've always felt this was a very amateurish story with a weak writing style, but it's serviceable and got the job done.  The description here is pretty bland, doesn't say much, and quite understated.

           Kurt walked towards the old man, and he followed him through the ruins of Tokyo to a squat abandoned building a quarter of a mile away. There, the old man led Kurt into a relatively clean room with cupboards, a single mattress on the floor, and a low table. The old man lit a candle that was on the table with a makeshift lighter. The candle illuminated the room, revealing the old man’s face to Kurt.
           The old man went to the corner of the room, where a tub of water sat idle. Kurt noticed that the man rigged a purification system over the tub, allowing him access to relatively clean water. The man took some water and some leaves he had stored in a cupboard. Then he prepared two cups of tea, working diligently with trembling old hands. Kurt sat at the low table and watched as the old man prepared the tea, observing the man’s technique as he mixed ingredients and stirred them in wooden cups.

From Perfectly Inhuman, Chapter 3
This is one of my most recent works. I did take the time to describe this area in bigger detail, to give the reader a lavish and futuristic picture. It reflects on the power and wealth of the Mayor and his government.  Hopefully, you'll get the impression of wide-open spaces, luxury, and cleanliness.

           At the topmost floor, the city became a mere map beneath Mary. The doors opened, and the guards pushed her out.
           She found herself in a large lobby. The floors were made of colored tiles arranged in jagged patterns, and the walls were made of glass, revealing additional views of the city and the mountains to the east. A frosted glass partition separated the lobby from a private office. Silk banners hung from the ceiling. Polished stone pedestals held golden and silver statues portraying nude men and women. Everything in the room was rich and lavish; Mary found herself awed, and envious that she never had a place so luxurious.
           The guards guided her through a set of glass doors in the frosted glass partition, and they passed into a wide open office space. The office looked much like the lobby, only instead of statues and banners there were holograms and display screens. Contrasting with the bright floors and the bright exterior view, there was a black desk on one end of the room, made of a rare dark organic wood.

From Ouroboros:  Demon-Blood, Chapter 11
This is one story I've worked with on and off; I've been a little wordier with this series of stories than with most others, to try and immerse the audience in a more detailed fantasy world.  Hopefully, you'll get the feeling of seeing something different and fantastic (and possibly wicked) with this segment.  Note that the term Svartálfar comes from ancient Norse myth, referring to a race of Dark Elves.

           In the middle of the woods, the Svartálfar had constructed a large settlement. It was surrounded by a thick wooden wall, studded with huge wooden thorns and metal spikes. The area around the wall was cleared of all vegetation, so that it could not be scaled with nearby trees. There were trees on the other side of the wall, which had platforms and turrets for guards to stand watch on. The settlement’s gate was a thick wooden door with iron supports; it swung open for us as we approached.
           Inside the settlement, the Svartálfar used most of the trees as buildings; they were all hollowed-out to serve as homes, stairwells, storage, and stores. They also had small wooden shacks and huts in between the trees. Some buildings were also constructed on the sides of trees and on their branches. There were scores of elves bustling around, trading with their craftsmen, mentoring their children, and practicing with their weapons. When I entered the town, they all stopped to gawk at me; I met their gazes with my own look of contempt.
           In the middle of the settlement, there was a larger tree, surrounded by a wooden wall with turrets all along it and a single gateway. I was led through the gate toward the base of the tree, which had an expansive hall jutting out of its bark. Passing into the hall, I stepped across a polished stone floor; the hall’s curved walls were ornately carved with elfin runes and mosaics. Twisted pillars held up the ceiling. At the end of the hall was the throne of the Svartálfar king, Lord Hygric. It was a large throne ordained with pieces of gold, silver, gems, and there were skulls hanging above it.

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Film Review: Wizard of Oz (1939)

"If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why cant I?" - Judy Garland

This film is one of the most quintessential classics of cinema.  Chances are that you've seen it aired every Thanksgiving, or you've seen clips of it all over the place, of you've heard the songs sung and resung, or you've seen parodies.  The Wizard of Oz has become so ingrained in American culture that the film, its scenes, its characters, its music, its dialogue, and just about everything is instantly recognizable and endearing.

To be perfectly honest, this is a really short and silly film.  The comedy, especially with so many silly lines, is still hilarious to this day.  There is peril and adventure in short bursts, and such scenes have become seriously iconic.  Frequently catchy musical numbers add to the overall whimsey of the picture.  There's hardly a dull moment in this film, and most moments are memorable and fun.

The story is a short and simple affair.  It takes a stretch to believe something this fantastic, but the film plays things so straight that it successfully immerses the audience.  Characters aren't terribly deep or fleshed-out, but they stand out really well.  In the end, it's the themes that count.  On one hand, it's a fundamental fantasy adventure:  the classic there-and-back-again tale, in which the characters embark on their journey and come back stronger and wiser.  With the film's ending, such themes are made even stronger, when it's revealed that it may have all been in Dorothy's dream.  The big reveal for the actual wizard of Oz is also a thematically strong moment, as it underscores a key theme regarding magic and imagination; it's a theme that not only extends to the characters of the story, but also reaches beyond the screen and demonstrates movie-making magic on a fundamental level.  If there's any thematic weakness, it's purely in the very very end, when Dorothy concludes that it's much better to stay at home than it is to have an adventure (she almost makes it sound like she'll be a recluse from then on, which kinda defeats the purpose of everything, in my opinion).

This film is well-filmed with steady and solid photography.  It's most distinctive for utilizing both black-and-white and color photography together, to create a stark contrast between reality and fantasy.  Acting is extremely goofy and over-the-top, but it all works for the film's benefit.  It's always a hoot to watch Margaret Hamilton as the iconic villain, while Judy Garland and the rest of the cast provide much zeal and spirit to their roles.  Writing is pretty silly, but it builds the story really well and features some very memorable lines.  This production uses some rather limited sets, props, and costumes, many of which are outlandish and very fake-looking, but provide enough of an illusion to craft a vibrant spectacle with limited resources.  Music is catchy and memorable.

This movie is a must-see, if for no other reason than for its prestige and popularity throughout the decades.  Highly recommended!

4.5/5 (Entertainment:  Very Good | Story:  Good | Film:  Very Good)

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Film Review: Oz: The Great and Powerful

"I don't want to be a good man...I want to be a great man." - James Franco

One key thing the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz proved is that movie magic and magic in movies go hand-in-hand.  This might be a mild spoiler, but most of us know by now that the actual wizard of Oz was never a real wizard, but a con-artist who used machines and gimmicks to wow the inhabitants of Oz into submission.  It's also an interestingly insightful reflection on filmmaking itself, with the filmmakers fulfilling the exact same role as the wizard; they use camera tricks, elaborate sets, costumes, and special effects to bring the fantasy to life before the audience, and trick us all into believing that Oz can be a real place with real people.  Even though the film is incredibly fake-looking and laughably cheesy, it's become cemented as an endearing classic in American cinema; it's an impressive feat that this 70+ year old classic still captures audiences' imaginations.

Obviously, nothing can top the 1939 Wizard of Oz.  The 2013 prequel, Oz:  The Great and Powerful, follows into the modern trend of taking classic fairy tales and giving them an epic-scale treatment (along the same lines as Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland and yesteryear's Snow White and the Huntsman).  It is on that level that O:TGAP should be evaluated; it's a big, large-scale remix of the classic Wizard of Oz elements with a massive CGI spectacle.

The most critical of audiences probably won't be impressed, but I personally felt that this film is decently entertaining.  It has action and peril, especially in the last act; the final battle in Emerald City offers a satisfying climax with plenty of spectacle, but without overdoing things that much.  I was thrilled to see the witches fighting, and it was pretty cool.  Even though CGI is dispensed liberally throughout the feature with mixed results, it is a visually striking experience at times.  There is a lot of silly humor thrown about as well, which may come off as a hit or a miss.  Overall, it is a whimsical adventure that made me smile at times, and kept my interest all the way through.

The film's most redeeming quality will be it story.  The actual plot is somewhat derivative - it's pretty much the exact same formula as the 2010 Alice in Wonderland - and the story is predictable, especially if you know what happens in the classic Oz film.  Still, long-time fans will geek out at all the Wizard of Oz references, and this film does a fine job of establishing the characters and concepts that would ultimately lead up to the original movie.  The film has a number of one-dimensional side characters who could have benefited from more development.  However, the wizard takes the spotlight throughout, and the film does a great job of establishing his character, showing his growth and development, and ultimately tying in the classic themes of magic, imagination, and belief with the story's pathos.  It's not the same meta-theme that went into the old film, but this film uses it in a fashion that supports the story, and makes it just as interesting.

This film features pretty solid and distinctive photography.  You can bet that the opening scenes are black-and-white, and rest is color, just like the original film.  It even uses a smaller, square aspect ration, until the actual Oz scenes, where the screen expands magically.  Some shots are pretty wild, a few shots swung pretty heavily side-to-side, and plenty of other shots reminded me a lot of the Peter Jackson Middle Earth films, thanks to the frequent sweeping and movements.  Editing is not bad.  Acting is generally satisfying:  James Franco won't impress everyone, but I felt his portrayal was appropriately showy and boisterous, and fit the character very well.  Mila Kunis is regarded as the odd one out, and I'll admit that she did seem out of place at first, but I enjoyed her performances in the second half.  Rachel Weisz is as great as ever, and it's hard not to love Michelle Williams.  Writing is not too bad.  This production has fine and dandy sets, props, and costumes, which mostly match up well with the original Oz film.  Special effects look great in some spots, not so great in others.  Music has its moments too.

As expected from a Sam Raimi film, Oz:  The Great and Powerful is a bright, colorful, humorous adventure with whimsey and zeal.  It comes best recommended to non-discerning popcorn flick fans, families, and Wizard of Oz fans.

4/5 (Entertainment:  Good | Story:  Good | Film:  Good)

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Video Game Review: Tomb Raider (2013)

"A famous explorer once said, that the extraordinary is in what we do, not who we are. I'd finally set out to make my mark, to find adventure. But instead adventure found me. In our darkest moments, when life flashes before us, we find something. Something that keeps us going. Something that pushes us. When all seemed lost, I found a truth. And I knew what I must become." - Camilla Luddington

After something like eight video games and two feature films, the Tomb Raider series has established itself as one of the most quintessential adventure game of all time, and it cemented Lara Croft as an icon comparable to Indiana Jones.  The problem is, every game offers more of the same:  Lara Croft was a virtually invincible killing machine who could climb and jump off of every impossible surface and survive every insurmountable challenge unscathed.  It all made for good fun adventure, but much like Lara's figure, it was also rather unrealistic, exaggerated, and shallow.

Now, in 2013, Tomb Raider has been officially rebooted with a dramatically different twist.  In this daring prequel, Lara Croft is not the invincible heroine as shown in previous games.  The younger Lara has been designed to be vulnerable, inexperienced, perhaps even a little naive.  She suffers a massive learning curve, as she suffers the wilderness and the full brunt of human cruelty.  It's the experience that would toughen her and shape her into the tomb raider we all know and love, and it does make for one heck of a gaming experience.

Things start off really dire, as Lara is shipwrecked, and you spend the first few hours of the game going over the basics:  finding shelter, getting warm, finding food, and escaping danger.  There are a few quick-time events to get through at first, but after that initial area, the game opens up wonderfully.  You're given mostly-free reign of the island of Yamatai:  progression is still very linear, and if you follow the main path, you could finish the main story in a very short time (based on other gamers' remarks, probably within 10 - 20 hours).  However, each area is big enough to harbor a number of challenges and collectables that can keep you exploring for hours more; it can be very rewarding to scour the island in search of treasures, salvage, GPS cashes, and hidden tombs.  As with any Tomb Raider game, you can expect lots of climbing and acrobats as well; Lara handles these sections awkwardly at first, but as things go on, she becomes very fluid, agile, and she turns it into a satisfying challenge.  When the combat hits, it's just as satisfying; whether using firearms, the classic bow and arrow, or simple melee, you can definitely feel empowered, but without being over or under challenged.  There are some things that remain out of the player's control - you can't manually duck, crawl, take cover, or sprint - but the game automatically does these things in reaction to your movements and the environment, and it is extremely fluid.  Between the exploration and combat, I never really wanted to quit this game at all; it really keeps you going.

A lot of the appeal, however, lies in the story.  As mentioned above, this is the developer's chance to flesh out a more realistic and invoking character; Lara will often express pain, cry, hesitate, and turn every step of the journey into an epic struggle for survival.  She also learns, grows, and becomes stronger with each passing chapter.  She shows a strong will and determination to move on through the most dire of circumstances and survive.  And that ultimately leads to her transformation into the Lara Croft we all know and love, and it is a strongly invoking journey.

It's made all the more invoking with its sheer cruelty.  Easily the most brutal game of the series, Lara is pitted against some of the meanest and nastiest men ever rendered in a game; it almost comes across as misogynistic at times.  This ultimately contributes to the experience, because every time Lara has a misstep or falls into a trap, it feels like a huge "holy crap!!!" moment.  As the plot progresses, things get more crazier and outlandish, with even some supernatural elements coming out of the woodwork.  There's still a semblance of a classic Tomb Raider adventure beneath the grimy, dirty surface, but it is a far more intense, more realistic, more pathos-driven story than any before it.

The game has some of the most impressive graphics I've seen in a while; the environments are beautifully-rendered, with thick and dense forests, mountains, ruins, and catacombs, all with phenomenal detail and particle effects.  Characters are especially gorgeous; there are times when they look close to real.  Voice-acting is pretty decent from the cast, and the game is quite well-written.  The game is built with intricate depth and detail, and the levels are ingeniously-designed.  Sound and music are good too.

While the previous games in this series have offered a fun bit of adventure, the 2013 Tomb Raider offers something more:  an real and deep storytelling experience that really immerses the player in the action and danger, and brings Lara Croft to life in a brilliant and more invoking fashion.  Highly recommended!

5/5 (Entertainment:  Perfect | Story:  Very Good | Game:  Very Good)

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Book Review: Sahara (Clive Cussler)

"This was pure desert with not a growing thing in sight.  Low brown dunes rose like warts as far as Pitt could see, separated by small valleys of brilliant white sand.  Only toward the west did a high plateau of rock rise above the desert floor.  It was treacherous country, and yet there was a beauty about it that was difficult to describe." - Clive Cussler

You know what you get with one of Clive Cussler's Dirk Pitt novels, and there's a reason why Cussler is dubbed the "Grandmaster of Adventure." In addition to all the action in each story, they entwine history, archeology, and peril in a manner that could put Indiana Jones to shame.  With Sahara, you get more of the same...a lot more.  This epic, sprawling story takes Dirk Pitt and his gang to the titular desert, where they confront evil corporations and a violent military dictator using massive amounts of firepower.  There are at least several moments where Dirk, or a special forces unit, or a whole army, marches around and blows things up with guns, rockets, jet fighters, boats, trains, and just about everything else imaginable.  Dirk even manages to find a classic car in the middle of it all (again).  With the Sahara desert as the setting and theme, the characters also have to struggle against the searing hot desert and abrasive conditions, presenting even more challenges.  Sahara presents huge helpings of conflicts and challenges, in everything from the environmental hazards to the political intrigue.  The book might be one of the most action-packed stories I've read, and it's a darn fun read that way.

The story plays out pretty similarly to the other Dirk Pitt adventures.  It's most notable for raising its stakes as high as it possibly could, going so far as to endangering the entire world and putting it all on the main characters' shoulders.  Also given the weight of humanitarian aid and coping with the desert, there are moments where it really feels like an intense, drawn-out struggle, and it helps make the readers care for the characters and events.

That being said, there is plenty to nitpick about the story.  Characters are as fun as always - Dirk Pitt and Al Giordino load up every scene with their wit and machismo - but they are still pretty flat and unchanging.  The story is quite incredulous at times; it never loses its readers, but it's a little hard to believe that NUMA could become so heavily involved with international politics, going so far as to incite the UN and US to send tactical combat units and such.  It's even more of a stretch to believe that a Civil War vessel crossed the Atlantic and became buried in the Sahara.  Regardless, the book plays these things out so straight that it's easy for a non-discerning reader to go with the flow and accept the story on its own terms.

Cussler's writing is generally smooth and easy to read, if not a little plain and dry.  He does have a tendency to use  certain cliches, and there were times where I noticed some odd misuse of quote marks.  Regardless, the man does a great job of describing his characters, describing the action, and describing the substantial history and relevant facts revolving around the elements and settings of the story.

Clive Cussler fans should certainly be satisfied to read this story, as should fans of adventure writing in general.  Casual readers might get a kick out of it too, just don't expect anything tremendously deep or moving.

4/5 (Entertainment:  Very Good | Story:  Pretty Good | Book:  Pretty Good)

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