The novella Remake by Connie Willis is quite prescient for its publication date (1996), anticipating a Hollywood obsessed with nostalgia, churning out endless reimaginings of old hits, with explorations into the effect new technology might have on entertainment and copyright law. But its dystopian trappings, meandering story, and flat protagonist undercut the book's potential. Throw in some very nineties-era projections of the future that now read as anachronisms, and you're left with a dated rather than timeless work. That being said, there are still some fun gems sprinkled within it.
In the world of Remake, CGI has advanced to the point that studios are able to fully reinvent the past; as the book's blurb describes it, "Humphrey Bogart and Marilyn Monroe are starring together in a remake of 'A Star is Born.'" Actors and their performances are now commodities to be copyrighted and used again, and again, and again. Live action shooting is a thing of the past. Instead, desk jockeys like the first-person narrator Tom are the backbone of the industry, slaving away on computers to create the next big remake. Grunts like him and his friend "Heada" prowl parties full of illicit substances and sex to get a job, any job, from a corporate bigwig.
Into this world comes a young girl, Alis, with a dream: to dance in the movies. The trouble, as Tom explains to her in his botched seduction, is that "faces" like hers aren't used in the movies anymore, and even if someone did use a "warmbody," the musical died years before film did. What she wants is impossible. She flits away and he returns to his current gig of removing gin and cigarettes from old movies, when suddenly, he sees what he'd swear is her face in an old, unedited version of a musical, dancing away. He'd shrug it off, but it happens again, and again, and again. He decides to hunt down this mystery lady and discover her secret.
This book was my first introduction to Willis, and I'll give her this: she's a great writer. The prose snaps and pops, perfectly accenting the mood of a scene or character. There were entire moments of this novella that were made by the grace of the words alone. She knows how to weave banter and pathos together in a Whedonesque way; she'd probably make a good screenwriter herself, as she's able to paint a scene and set up characters in quick bursts that flow easily and naturally.
She'd done her research as well. The amount of film trivia peppered through the text was astounding, and though at times it strained my credulity that anyone could remember that many dates and names, it certainly bolstered Tom's characterization as a jaded film buff who masochistly studies a world he doesn't believe in anymore. That bit of characterization is a good thing, since on the whole I wished I could have spent more time with the more dynamic, interesting characters in the story, Alis and Heada (a woman so wrapped in mystery we never learn her true name). These two are full of spark and ambition, each producing much of the forward momentum of the tale.
Tom on the whole reacts to what's thrown at him, often cynically, only occasionally reaching beyond the lowest rung of Maslow's hierarchy of needs to actually do anything about the life he's living. His narrative is informative but unenlightening; we depend on revelations from others for real discoveries about truth or art. In fact, the main weakness of this piece is that there is that the mystery element is so undeveloped that it fizzles into nothingness. There is no eureka moment, internal or external, and so the story itself reads like a quick carnival ride: flashy, fun, but flimsy and insubstantial, rather like the remakes themselves.
In the end, there is no stirring conclusion to the questions barely raised in the book, but I personally found that to be part of its charm. Rather than make any grand statement, Remake gradually introduces the idea that perhaps the past we cling to isn't as great as we've made it out to be, and therefore the future ain't so bleak. It's a small, limited theme, barely detectable amidst the pomp and drudgery, but it's there, and one I find fitting. As Tom himself notes, Hollywood was never "real."
I think the book itself needs another decade to age before it can be truly appreciated, when references to early nineties tech become as quaint as punch cards, and the unreality of this version of future history (where Pixar and Disney on Broadway never happened) becomes less glaring and more appreciable. For now, it's a short, uneven ride that's a nice, light snack for someone needing a quick scifi fix.
Finally, I would not recommend this book for everyone. While not explicit, the sexuality and language involved were both prominent and at times distracting. As they say in the movies, reader discretion is advised.
I did not receive anything from the publisher or author for this review (but they're free to send me something now if they'd like). The book is currently available from Spectra in Paperback ($15.00) and eBook editions ($11.99).
