Ben Elton, Popcorn
Novel – 300 pages – 1996 / hardback borrowed from Em
- 1 nod out of 5 -
Popcorn is the story of how a psychopathic murdering couple take hostage an Oscar winning Hollywood director who has made his fame and fortune detailing psychotic, murdering people taking people hostage. Under pressure from the authorities and in the hope of saving their own hides, the murdering couple – Wayne and Scout - hope to get the director - Bruce Delamtri – to take the wrap for the murders due to the influence of his movies on society.
Sounds like a passable storyline. However, throughout all is Elton’s continuing efforts to frustrate the reader. There are many pitfalls within these pages: from wooden, pointless characters (with the depth of a playing card) to the carbon-copy likeness to Tarantino dialogue and films of the same period. Yet it is Elton’s writing style itself which is the biggest culprit: the grammar may be good, but the quality is far from satisfactory. Elton has the annoying knack of turning away from the story to lecture the reader, an example of which:
‘Contrary to popular mythology, American police officers do not spend all day every day scraping corpses off walls and floors… Death is not uncommon in this job but it is not the norm either, and the two State Troopers weren’t so familiar with murder as to be indifferent to it’ (p.64).
Blah, blah; bore, bore. I found myself repeatedly throwing insults at the book’s pages and to Mr Elton’s smug photograph in particular. Firstly, it adds unnecessary words to an already bloated story; it is almost criminal that no sharp edit of the book was performed. And secondly, comes the vision the reader builds of the bespectacled Elton typing away the words, pompous grin on face, pausing every couple of minutes to sip at his own self-satisfying coffee. It may be the Worm’s own personal preference, but an author of fiction should take a back-seat and allow his words to do the talking for him.
Popcorn is hailed as a work of satire. Yet this is not satire in its known and enjoyed forms. Throughout the novel Elton seems to have the wit of a fourteen year old boy – devoid of a terse and mordant style - infected and enthused by a trip to a cinema, or illicit copy of a mid-1990s Tarantino film. Think Reservoir Dogs, think Pulp Fiction, and primarily, Natural Born Killers, of which, Tarantino wrote the original screenplay. And this, in essence, is what Popcorn is: a rehash of violence and supposed sharp dialogue. The much trumpeted so-called satire comes from its describing of the baseness of a Hollywood up its own arse, a Hollywood which takes no account of blame. Rarely does Elton succinctly get this message across, yet two notable exceptions include the book’s epilogue (in which the survivors of the final shooting rampage take to suing one another), and Bruce Delamtri’s comment on society:
‘Nothing is anybody’s fault. We don’t do wrong, we have problems. We’re victims, alcoholics, sexaholics. Do you know you can be a shopaholic? That’s right. People aren’t greedy any more, oh no. They’re shopoholics, victims of commercialism. Victims! People don’t fail any more. They experience negative success. We are building a culture of gutless, spineless, self-righteous, whining cry-babies who have an excuse for everything and take responsibility for nothing…’ (P.83)
Yet it is a shame that these highlights remain buried amongst an avalanche of dull words and clichéd statements. Yet what is most shocking is an endorsement on the book’s back cover by Douglas Adams: ‘One of the most brilliantly sustained and focussed pieces of satire I’ve ever read.’ It is even compared with Joseph Heller's Catch 22. The only logical explanation must be that Douglas Adams was in mocking jest when typing such a statement (or was trying to give a fellow novelist friend a helping hand). Now, Catch 22 was an piece of satire; a true 5 nodder!. Popcorn - a tiring read of 300 pages - is not.
Novel – 300 pages – 1996 / hardback borrowed from Em
- 1 nod out of 5 -
Popcorn is the story of how a psychopathic murdering couple take hostage an Oscar winning Hollywood director who has made his fame and fortune detailing psychotic, murdering people taking people hostage. Under pressure from the authorities and in the hope of saving their own hides, the murdering couple – Wayne and Scout - hope to get the director - Bruce Delamtri – to take the wrap for the murders due to the influence of his movies on society.
Sounds like a passable storyline. However, throughout all is Elton’s continuing efforts to frustrate the reader. There are many pitfalls within these pages: from wooden, pointless characters (with the depth of a playing card) to the carbon-copy likeness to Tarantino dialogue and films of the same period. Yet it is Elton’s writing style itself which is the biggest culprit: the grammar may be good, but the quality is far from satisfactory. Elton has the annoying knack of turning away from the story to lecture the reader, an example of which:
‘Contrary to popular mythology, American police officers do not spend all day every day scraping corpses off walls and floors… Death is not uncommon in this job but it is not the norm either, and the two State Troopers weren’t so familiar with murder as to be indifferent to it’ (p.64).
Blah, blah; bore, bore. I found myself repeatedly throwing insults at the book’s pages and to Mr Elton’s smug photograph in particular. Firstly, it adds unnecessary words to an already bloated story; it is almost criminal that no sharp edit of the book was performed. And secondly, comes the vision the reader builds of the bespectacled Elton typing away the words, pompous grin on face, pausing every couple of minutes to sip at his own self-satisfying coffee. It may be the Worm’s own personal preference, but an author of fiction should take a back-seat and allow his words to do the talking for him.
Popcorn is hailed as a work of satire. Yet this is not satire in its known and enjoyed forms. Throughout the novel Elton seems to have the wit of a fourteen year old boy – devoid of a terse and mordant style - infected and enthused by a trip to a cinema, or illicit copy of a mid-1990s Tarantino film. Think Reservoir Dogs, think Pulp Fiction, and primarily, Natural Born Killers, of which, Tarantino wrote the original screenplay. And this, in essence, is what Popcorn is: a rehash of violence and supposed sharp dialogue. The much trumpeted so-called satire comes from its describing of the baseness of a Hollywood up its own arse, a Hollywood which takes no account of blame. Rarely does Elton succinctly get this message across, yet two notable exceptions include the book’s epilogue (in which the survivors of the final shooting rampage take to suing one another), and Bruce Delamtri’s comment on society:
‘Nothing is anybody’s fault. We don’t do wrong, we have problems. We’re victims, alcoholics, sexaholics. Do you know you can be a shopaholic? That’s right. People aren’t greedy any more, oh no. They’re shopoholics, victims of commercialism. Victims! People don’t fail any more. They experience negative success. We are building a culture of gutless, spineless, self-righteous, whining cry-babies who have an excuse for everything and take responsibility for nothing…’ (P.83)
Yet it is a shame that these highlights remain buried amongst an avalanche of dull words and clichéd statements. Yet what is most shocking is an endorsement on the book’s back cover by Douglas Adams: ‘One of the most brilliantly sustained and focussed pieces of satire I’ve ever read.’ It is even compared with Joseph Heller's Catch 22. The only logical explanation must be that Douglas Adams was in mocking jest when typing such a statement (or was trying to give a fellow novelist friend a helping hand). Now, Catch 22 was an piece of satire; a true 5 nodder!. Popcorn - a tiring read of 300 pages - is not.
What it is remains a motley assortment of dull plot and forgettable characters. Therefore, it is the Worm’s duty – according to the code of Bookish Honour – to place a prominent warning sign upon this novel and classify it with the miserly 1 nod it surely deserves.
