Annihilation, the Movie

Update: My review is now live at

Today I got tickets to see Annihilation. I don’t look intensely forward to a lot of movies, but I have this one, ever since I read the book. Back then, the author was kind enough to talk to me some about his writing. You know me, I am so into fiction that steps outside, that is mysterious, that makes me feel something. Good stories, that is. And when they are inspired by an author caring about the natural places on our planet, they mean more to me than usual. It is why I do the work I do. Anyway, my husband could not go to the movie when it comes out on Thursday night because he has a work thing. But he wants to see it this weekend. So I got a single ticket for me to see the movie after work on Thursday, and then I will go a second time this weekend. And I’m excited.

My interview with VanderMeer took place before Borne was published, but he quickly has become one of my favorite authors. When I read Borne, it came out on a weekend that we went camping and hiking and running up on the Sunshine Coast last year, and I was relieved to find the book at a store in Powell River. I sat on the beach and read it end to end.

I might have waited until after seeing the movie before making a post about it, but really, not much gets me excited anymore, outside of being with friends and family and seeing beautiful places. The state of the world seems so weird. Last night I watched Human Flow, about the refugee crisis, particularly in Syria. How heartbreaking it was to see such widespread displacement, at a very visceral level, like children on a boat–sick–or an old man in tears because members of his family died on a boat traveling to Greece. How utterly unbelievable it is that these refugees are turned away at borders, how unsanitary and cooped and without hope their living conditions are; yet you see some trying to retain their dignity by singing, or little children running around a dirt-floor tiny home in glee just to be running.

I mean, it comes down to a simple philosophy on my part, that we need to take care of each other and take care of the nature around us. But that’s not how the world operates, or if there are some people trying, the world has too much corruption in it to truly operate this way on a big enough scale to turn the tide. We have the approval for the worst kind of oil sands projects being expanded here in British Columbia, and then there’s the whole atrocity of Trump and his dismantling of environmental programs–not to mention everything else that is so very wrong with him and the millions who support him. We live in a weird age, for sure, and though I’m certain every era has been problematic in some ways, we are not doing what we should be doing now. And we have leaders who are bought off by industry that pollutes the world.

But every little bit helps. And to see an important novel being made into a movie, a novel that explores concepts of areas wherein an environmental disaster happened, is important. That this movie has gone mainstream is a plus. But, ya know, it’s a good story and that’s why people will enjoy it, including me. The movie is slightly different than the novel. From what I understand it is brilliant, somewhat cerebral, terrifying, and all the things that I enjoy. I want to feel the drama and the tension. I want to see scenes that will surprise me. I want to see how this adaption plays out visually.

Look at that good sunlight through the trees


I love watching fisherpeople


Pitt Lake

Yeah, I am excited, for sure, and it feels good. It’s hard to really pep up in this season full of cold, rain, and just this past week some snow. You kind of have to draw inspiration from within. Last weekend the sun finally came out for more than one day, and we went on two hikes–one at Sasamat Lake and another at Pitt Lake. The air was still frigid, and even though we hiked for miles it never did warm up enough to remove jackets. I eyed the way the lakes reflected blue from the sky, the simple way the wind blew the feathery branches of evergreens and rattled the leafless branches of deciduous trees, the snow-peaks in the near distance. I was flooded with memories of a few summers ago–hiking around Sasamat with family–I remember the giggles and the silly photos we took, and my niece’s new daughter making up her own sweet music. Just being in the mountains, on rivers and lakes, always makes me happy. I probably sound like John Denver, but it’s how I cope with the otherwise weird world.

Leave a Comment