Unfortunately, I still have no idea what Bernard and Lenina are doing on this Reservation. However, I did catch on to the fact that Linda is the DHC's long-lost-ladyfriend. Hey, alliteration.
I didn't write myself any helpful notes while I read this chapter because I was too focused on reading it, which I perceived would take Herculean effort, but it wasn't so bad, in spite of the dinosaur paragraphs.
I have actually never seen Hercules.
Anyway, the only thing I can think to do is speculate where this interesting plot development will take us. John seemed a little smitten with Lenina, there. Maybe he'll teach her the importance of monogamy... or something. And Linda will maybe offer interesting insights into the brainwashing effects of the outside world. One would expect her surroundings to have split her infinitives or rubbed off preposition on her more by now. Instead, she's so overwhelmed with relief at the sight of someone "civilized" that she starts crying and hugging.
How is it that no one warned me that Bicentennial Man is the saddest movie known to mankind? I mean... I should have figured it out for myself, given that the short story was pretty sad, and the lead actor was Robin Williams, but... I underestimated the extent. Lesson learned.
Everyone knows that movie posters are better auf Deutsch.
All right, so Plot.
Let's start with the obvious, shall we? In the short story, Andrew does not go gallivanting across the country in search of a companion. And also he does not get married, to a human, no less. That completely changes the theme, the way I see it, but I'll get into that later. The addition of Little Miss's wedding adds depth to the relationship between Andrew and Sir, as well. It shows that Sir's greatest fear is of everyone leaving him, and it justifies his later irrational anger at Andrew's desire for freedom. And in general, there is a bit more detail to the plot, because less time has to be spent on setting in a movie than in a short story, as the audience can clearly see the setting, whereas in the short story, one must rely on words. Another example of this is Andrew's creepy hovering at the dinner table when he first arrives at the family, and his getting pushed out the window, as well as his shattering of Little Miss's crystal horse; it adds dimension to the rocky start that the reader only suspects Andrew probably had.
As to point of view...
It wasn't one of those movies with a narrator built in. However, there was the addition of some subtitles saying things like "In the not so distant future...." and "Many years later...." Essentially, though, the point of view was the same. Since it was Andrew's story, we rarely if ever saw a scene without him as the central character. Therefore, the point of view was third-person omniscient. I also think it was slightly less limited than the short story could have been argued to be because it lacked the biased interludes of prose. We see Andrew's reactions, but we get no concrete words to describe them, so they are left open to interpretation, as are the reactions of all the other characters.
A lot of the plot differences contributed to the differences in characterization, as well.
For instance, when Little Miss gives him her stuffed animal named Woofy in return for the wooden horse figurine, it strengthens their bond as characters. It also makes the last moments of Little Miss' life much more *cringe* tender, because she was holding the little old horse figurine in her wrinkled, nearly-dead hands. It also tenderizes (seewhatIdidthere?) the moment when Andrew takes in the stray puppy, and later we find out he's named it Woofy after the stuffed animal Little Miss gave him. These are examples of indirect characterization, but direct characterization isn't something one sees in movies a lot. Speaking of referring to oneself as one, Andrew does that a lot in this film, but he stops when he is freed by Sir. This strengthens the development of both characters because it shows both Andrew's value for freedom and Sir's care-in-spite-of-anger/hurt/bitterness when he notices the change. And I loved how in the movie, Andrew is afraid of heights because of when the mean other Miss makes him jump out the window. Also, when Andrew runs off looking for other robots like him, it makes his character more sympathetic, as the audience begins to see the loneliness of his condition. Also also, it reminded me of this:
In the short story, the theme was more about the foolishness of bigotry and the values of freedom. In the movie adaptation, the theme was more about the importance of love and companionship to the human condition, and how time inevitably changes all that and leaves people brokenhearted until they die too, perpetuating the cycle. Ahem. I don't like when movies try to make that seem okay. In analyzing how this happened, I'm going to first point out the addition of the piano scenes with Andrew and Little Miss. It would seem that piano scenes conveying sentimentality are a pop cultural favorite in film adaptations. Check out this blatantly illegal recording someone did of the latest Harry Potter to see what I mean:
Also, Sir starts us on this path early with his "lessons" to teach Andrew what he hasn't been programmed to know, one or two of which included The Birds and the Bees, for sure. Also also, he... you know... marries Portia and dies holding her hand.
HEY. They made it look like he didn't even ever know that he was declared a man! Whaaat's theee deeaaal wiiiith thaaaaaat??? I suppose they were trying to make some kind of point. It doesn't matter what other people think. What matters is what you know in your heart. Blaaaah blaaah blaaaah it STILL would have made Andrew happy. Instead, he just died.
I'm going to assume the girl android with the dancing-->temper-->skin was just incorrect. I know she's a robot and all, but... Andrew knew. Otherwise, Christmas is canceled.
"The Bicentennial Man" had some crazy... not... chronological... business going on. It begins with Andrew requesting that another robot perform a mysterious surgery on him. We don't find out until near the end, however, that the surgery is one that will complete his transformation from robot into man. It's also divided into chapters, which seem to pertain individually to specific phases of Andrew's life. For instance, in chapter two, which begins on page 247, Andrew begins his life with the Martin family, and his focus is primarily playing with Little Miss, for as she put it, she "order[ed him] to play with [them] and [he] must follow orders." Then, in chapter three, the next phase of Andrew's life begins, in which Andrew's goal becomes fulfilling his role as the unique robot with the skills: "Strange. Of course, we're attempting generalized pathways these days.... Really creative, you think?" - p. 250
Point of View
The narrator is third-person omniscient. The story is Andrew's, so the narrator chronicles his life more closely than anyone else's, but the narrator also knows everything about all of the characters. For instance, on page 250, "[Little Miss] never forgot that the very first piece of wood carving he had done had been for her." Little Miss never speaks these words aloud, but the audience learns it from the narrator. Also, it is in third-person because the words "you" and "I" are only used in direct quotes from the characters. Also also, the story isn't told from the perspective of one of the characters involved in the story, but rather from a third party who knows everything about them.
Characterization
The story was awash with a healthy mix of both direct and indirect characterization, I think. For instance, on p. 249, the narrator, drawing on Andrew's observations, says "[Merton Mansky] had drawn features and a lined forehead and looked as though he might be younger than he looked." The part about the drawn features and lined forehead are merely observations that lead the reader to conclude that he looks kind of old. The second part, however, is a subjective observation on which the reader can have no comment but to accept it; thus, it is direct characterization. Vital to the story is the progression of Andrew's character as he grows slowly more and more human. In the beginning of the story, Andrew's range of facial expression is almost nonexistent. By chapter fourteen, on page 276, we see Andrew exclaim "Paul!" and have it described as "in concern." Then, by page 22, Andrew smiles as he shakes hands with the President, who declares him "a Bicentennial Man."
Setting
Usually, when I think of setting, I think of place first, and then time as an unimportant secondary element. In "The Bicentennial Man," however, the more important thing to note is that the story is science fiction; it takes place in the somewhat foreseeable but still significantly distant future, when robot technology is taking a leap forward. As far as geographical location, I feel like the main point emphasized is that it did indeed take place on Earth. For instance, on page 256, at the end of chapter 7, it says "[The decision] was eventually upheld by the World Court." Also, the bit in chapter 5 when it describes how "Ma'am had joined an art colony somewhere in Europe, and Miss was a poetin New York" as well as the robot Andrew's emphasis on freedom indicate strongly that the story is set in the United States of America, but not in New York. That Little Miss went there and came back indicates to me that probably, the Martins lived somewhere northeast.
Theme
I think the major theme was that freedom is invaluable, and bigotry is a crime. One sentence that jumped out at me was on page 254: "Freedom is without a price, Sir," said Andrew. "Even the chance of freedom is worth the money." The Court doesn't want to give him freedom, though, because they want to maintain human superiority over robots. Then, when Andrew wants to become a human, they don't want to allow that either. This was because, as stated on page 288, "They cannot tolerate an immortal human being, since their own mortality is endurable only so long as it is universal."
Another item that jumped out at me as a possible minor theme was this: "With great power goes great responsibility." - p. 266
That probably only jumped out at me because either Isaac Asimov or Stan Lee is a plagiarist, but... yeah.
