Page 7 of 9

The Mystery Novels of L.F. Veríssimo

Crimes from pulp fiction books reenacted by a real murderer. A  locked-room mystery disrupting a conference about Edgar Allan Poe. Members of a gastronomy club being killed one by one right after having their favorite dishes. These are just a few of the plots from L.F. Veríssimo’s novels. But what really makes them interesting to me are their narrative structures and the cultural artifacts that fuel them.

Luis Fernando Veríssimo, one of the most celebrated and prolific Brazilian writers, is mostly known for his hundreds of humorous short stories and newspaper columns, collected in dozens of books starting in 1973. He is the creator of some unforgettably funny characters, like the Analyst from Bagé (O Analista de Bagé), a gaucho psychoanalyst who mixes Freud with the roughness of the macho cultural values of the Pampas, and the Old Lady from Taubaté (A Velhinha de Taubaté), the last person in the world who still believes what politicians say. Veríssimo also wrote and drew comic strips, and for a long time published daily columns on several Brazilian newspapers.

Veríssimo also wrote a few crime novels, and they stand apart in their little murder mystery microcosm. The humor is still present, but sparsely and in a much darker tone. As far as I know, three of Veríssimo’s novels have been translated to English. The other two you will have to read in Portuguese.

The first novel is O Jardim do Diabo (The Devil’s Garden), originally published in 1988, and revised and republished in 2005. Estevão is a pulp fiction writer who lost a foot (one of the mysteries of the story) and now doesn’t leave his small apartment. He is visited by a police inspector investigating a crime apparently inspired by one of Estevão’s books. The Devil’s Garden is probably the most complex of his novels in terms of structure, with the narrative blending together the narrator’s current reality, an episode of his past, the pulp novel he is currently writing, and a radio show played loudly by his cleaning lady.

O Clube dos Anjos (The Club of Angels, translated by Margaret Jull Costa for New Directions), originally published in 1998, is possibly Veríssimo’s best book. Daniel is a failed advertising man who still depends on his parents’ money to support his fine taste for food and wine. But now his club of gourmets (or, perhaps more appropriately, gourmands) is at risk of disappearing because the members are being murdered, one by one, after eating their favorite dishes. The whole story has a delicious air of decadence, both from the seemingly excessive importance given to the pleasures of the table and from the apparent willingness presented by the victims, as if they all felt guilty of something and accepted death as their punishment.

Borges e os Orangotangos Eternos (Borges and the Eternal Orangutans, translated by Margaret Jull Costa for New Directions), originally published in 2000, is one of my favorites. Vogelstein is an unimportant translator who goes to Buenos Aires for a conference about the work of Edgar Allan Poe, and gets involved in a locked-room murder mystery. Trying to solve the crime, he partners with none other than the great Jorge Luis Borges, with some help from a police detective appropriately called Cuervo (Raven). For fans of Borges, or Poe, or detective stories in general, the narrative is a delightful puzzle of references where all the pieces fit together and the surprises don’t stop until the last paragraph. There are also engaging conversations about literature, including this beautiful quote: “I always believed an experience at sea was essential to a great writer, and that’s why Conrad and Melville, and in a certain way also Stevenson, who ended his days in the South Seas, were better than all of us, Volgenstein. At sea a writer escapes from the minor demons and only faces the definitive demons.”

O Opositor (literally The Opponent but also, implied, The Opposable Thumb), originally published in 2004, is a story within a story. The narrator is a journalist visiting Manaus, the capital of the state of Amazonas, in Brazil, to write an article about hallucinogenic plants. But he ends up meeting Jósef Teodor, a foreigner who is always drunk and claims to be a former assassin for hire at the service of the Meierhoff Group, the most powerful secret society in the world. Teodor’s tale, told in fragments when he is both willing and not too drunk, forms the center of the book, while the questioning of its veracity and the hunting for clues to confirm it make for an interesting frame. To complicate things a bit, the journalist has been sampling the hallucinogenics he is supposed to be researching, and got romantically involved with a woman who may be the daughter of one of Teodor’s victims.

Os Espiões (The Spies, translated by Margaret Jull Costa for Quercus Publishing), originally published in 2009, is a story about the relationship between literature and reality, disguised as a story about amateur spies who fail badly at their self-assigned mission. A small publisher receives the first chapter of a manuscript and, interpreting it as a call for help, builds a rescue team to travel to the author’s little town and free her from the presumed danger. As the investigation progresses and more chapters arrive in the mail, the plot thickens. The Spies starts with a quote by Giorgio de Chirico (inscribed in Latin on the frame of one of his self-portraits): “And what shall I love if not the enigma?” The love for the enigma, however, is not enough to solve it, and the eager but unaware spies end up facing the results of their misreading of the manuscript and of the situation.

These five novels form a cohesive group, with many elements in common. For example, all the stories are told in the first person by a narrator-protagonist who is a writer of some sort. Estevão, from The Devil’s Garden, is a pulp fiction author. Daniel, from The Club of Angels, is a failed advertising copywriter and a scribbler of stories of dubious taste about conjoined twins. Vogelstein, from Borges and the Eternal Orangutans, is a translator and wannabe writer. The unnamed narrator of The Opponent is a journalist. The narrator of The Spies, also unnamed but sometimes using Agomar as a pseudonym, is an editor at a small publishing house and author of an unpublished espionage thriller.

The five books also make important use of cultural references (usually literature or visual arts), which in some cases are at the center of the plot. The Devil’s Garden uses pulp fiction stereotypes profusely, but also touches on Conrad, Melville, and other authors of sea stories. The Club of Angels has Shakespeare and King Lear metaphorically haunting the characters and literally being quoted by them. Borges and the Eternal Orangutans presents Borges as a character and offers an abundance of mentions to Poe, Lovecraft, Zangwill, and several other writers. The Opponent features the frescoes in the Orvieto Cathedral, painted by Fra Angelico and Luca Signorelli, as a significant plot point. And The Spies provides a cornucopia of literary references, from the Greek classics (the damsel in distress is called Ariadne and the plan to rescue her is named Operation Theseus) to contemporary spy novels (the narrator idolizes John le Carré) and even suspicious scholarly connections (one of the characters gives a lecture on “The Neoplatonism in Dostoyevsky and Machado de Assis”).

If none of the above made you want to read Veríssimo’s novels, he has another one that doesn’t deal with crime mysteries but may arouse your curiosity: A Décima Segunda Noite (The Twelfth Night) retells the homonymous Shakespearean comedy with the plot transposed to a contemporary hair salon in Paris and narrated by a perky pet parrot who can quote John Lennon and Soren Kierkegaard.

Favorite 1960s Animated TV Series

In chronological order.

  • The Flintstones (1960-1966)
  • Top Cat (1961-1962)
  • The Jetsons (1962-1963)
  • Jonny Quest (1964-1965)
  • Speed Racer (1966-1968)
  • Space Ghost (1966-1967)
  • The Impossibles (1966-1967)
  • Journey to the Center of the Earth (1967-1969)
  • The Herculoids (1967-1969)
  • Wacky Races (1968-1969)

The Lost World: One Book, Six Movies

My latest movie marathon was all about The Lost World. First I read the original novel by Conan Doyle (yes, the same guy who created Sherlock Holmes) and then watched six adaptations for the screen.

At the end of the 19th century, Sir H. Rider Haggard was the king of stories about lost worlds, with books like The People of the Mist (about a lost tribe in Africa) and Heart of the World (about a lost Mayan city in Mexico). But the genre got it’s masterpiece in 1912, when Sir Arthur Conan Doyle unleashed The Lost World. Explorers venturing to mysterious, uncharted lands teeming with prehistoric creatures? That’s the stuff that launched a thousand jungle expeditions, both literal and fictional. But while the book was groundbreaking, it wasn’t without its wobbles, especially the racist overtones and imperialist assumptions. Still, it’s hard to overstate its impact. Without The Lost World, we might not have had Edgar Rice Burroughs’s The Land That Time Forgot, or King Kong, or even Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park.

The first crack at bringing Doyle’s tale to the silver screen, The Lost World (Harry O. Hoyt, 1925), was a silent masterpiece – and “masterpiece’ isn’t an exaggeration. Faithfulness to the novel? Decent enough. Professor Challenger and his team head to South America, find a plateau full of dinosaurs, and bring one back to London. Sure, liberties were taken (like adding a romance subplot), but the spirit was intact. The cinematography was beautiful for the time (I watched the tinted version restored in 2016), but the real star was the stop-motion wizardry of Willis O’Brien. Those dinosaurs were revolutionary, decades before CGI. O’Brien’s work on The Lost World paved the way for King Kong in 1933, which was like this movie’s rebellious teen cousin. Plot holes and pacing issues aside, the 1925 version remains a classic, with Challenger (played by Wallace Beery) as a brash, bearded and mustachioed force of nature.

With The Lost World (Irwin Allen, 1960), we enter B-movie territory. This adaptation swaps out Doyle’s intelligent, scientifically minded tale for lizards with glued-on horns. Yes, instead of lovingly crafted stop-motion dinosaurs, we get iguanas and crocodiles dressed in drag to look vaguely prehistoric. It’s as ridiculous as it sounds. The plot diverges wildly too. Gone is the novel’s thought-provoking narrative about science versus nature. Instead, we get melodrama, generic villains, and some dubious jungle antics. On the upside, the cast is stacked: Michael Rennie (The Day the Earth Stood Still) as Lord Roxton, Claude Rains (Casablanca) as Professor Challenger, and Jill St. John (who would later be the Bond Girl in Diamonds Are Forever) adding some glamour. But the sheer campiness of the production makes this one for die-hard dinosaur completists only.

Another thirty years and we got not one but two new adaptations, The Lost World (Timothy Bond, 1992) and its sequel Return to the Lost World (Timothy Bond, 1992). This version took some odd liberties. Instead of Doyle’s South American plateau, we’re now in Africa. Why? Probably because someone found an African savanna more budget-friendly than a South American rainforest. Lord Roxton is swapped for a new female character, Jenny Nielson (Tamara Gorski), in what feels like a half-hearted attempt at modernization. The rest of the cast is not bad: John Rhys-Davies (from the Indiana Jones movies) as Professor Challenger, David Warner (Jack the Ripper in Time After Time) as Professor Summerlee, and Eric McCormack (before becoming famous for Will & Grace) as Edward Malone. The special effects? Quite weak, even for a tv production, and definitely nothing you’d brag about at a paleontology conference. The dinosaurs really look like puppets. While they tried to retain some of the novel’s spirit, both films felt more like Saturday matinee fillers than genuine adaptations.

The next version of The Lost World (Bob Keen, 1998) is even worse. Only loosely based on the original novel, the action now happens in Mongolia. And the story is so much changed that only two members of the expedition return to London. Patrick Bergin plays Professor Challenger, in what may be the worst movie of his career. Dinosaurs? Not many, and several years after Jurassic Park none of them look impressive. Characters? Forgettable. Is it worth watching? Only if you enjoy movies that feel like they were cobbled together over a long weekend to cash in on a trend.

A few years later we got a new tv adaptation, The Lost World (Stuart Orme, 2001), with the advantage of having 145 minutes to tell the story (it was first broadcast in two 75 minutes episodes). They followed the story fairly closely (and even returning to the original setting in South America), but added a few new elements. Besides the romantic subplot that every adaptation insisted in including, there was also a detour about a religious fanatic trying to keep the lost world a secret because it could support Darwin’s theory of evolution and weaken the creationist dogma. Bob Hoskins as Professor Challenger was a great choice, and James Fox as Professor Summerlee is also a good contribution. The CGI dinosaurs are fine, nothing to get very excited about but not embarrassingly bad. What this film lacks in spectacle, it tries to make up for in earnestness, and there’s something endearing about that.

Which adaptation reigns supreme? If we consider them in the context of their time, the 1925 silent film is the winner. It’s not just a great adaptation, it’s a landmark in cinematic history, with Willis O’Brien’s dinosaurs setting a high standard for generations. Best special effects dinosaurs? Again, the 1925 version. No iguana cosplay here, just pure artistry. Best Professor Challenger? Bob Hoskins in 2001 nails the character’s mix of gruffness and charm. Best Lord Roxton? Michael Rennie from the 1960 version is hard to beat, even if the movie itself is a dud. Edward Malone, however, is such a dull character that he is forgetabble in all versions.

All the adaptations, whether faithful or not, wrestle with the clash between humanity and nature. Doyle’s novel asks whether we have the right to dominate nature, and that question lingers in every adaptation (even the ones with the lizards-in-costume nonsense). Each version also grapples with adventure and exploration, though often in ways that reflect the era of their production: awe in the 1920s, kitsch in the 1960s, and commercialism in the 1990s. At its heart, The Lost World remains a tale about discovery, danger, and our never-ending fascination with dinosaurs. Some adaptations soar, others stumble. But like the dinosaurs themselves, the story endures — an ancient, lumbering giant that refuses to go extinct.

Favorite 2010s Live Action TV Series

  • Sherlock (2010–2017)
  • The Walking Dead (2010–2022)
  • Treme (2010–2013)
  • Black Mirror (2011-2016)
  • Game of Thrones (2011–2019)
  • The Newsroom (2012-2014)
  • House of Cards (2013–2018)
  • Orphan Black (2013–2017)
  • Better Call Saul (2015–2022)
  • Stranger Things (2016–2025)
  • The Good Place (2016–2020)
  • Succession (2018–2023)

Playing Old CRPGs Again: Exploring the Lands of Lore

The next game in my revival series was Lands of Lore: The Throne of Chaos (Virgin Games, 1993), developed by Westwood Studios, the same guys who made the first two instalments of Eye of The Beholder. And this game has a very similar interface, with some clear improvements over the predecessors. Stepping away from the Dungeons & Dragons license, Lands of Lore brought its own mythology in what looks like a hybrid of RPG and adventure genres.

Set in the high-fantasy world of Gladstone, the game presents a classic struggle between good and evil. The story revolves around a powerful artifact, the Nether Mask, and the efforts of the kingdom to thwart its misuse by the malevolent sorceress Scotia. The player assumes the role of a chosen champion tasked by King Richard to prevent Scotia’s rise to power. The themes are quintessentially from medieval fantasy, with elements of heroism, betrayal, and mysticism.

You can’t create your own character and have to choose one of the available heroes to play. I went with Michael, a balanced choice with skills in both combat and magic. The party grows as the adventure progresses, with companions joining temporarily based on the plot. The challenges include the usual exploration and puzzle-solving, with combat against a diverse array of enemies. Resource management is crucial, as sometimes there’s a lack of food and potions (using magic to heal between battles will save the day), and your weapons don’t last forever. The puzzles are well-designed, often requiring good observation and a lot of experimentation.

It was quite pleasing playing Lands of Lore: The Throne of Chaos again. And I had the version released on CD, which came with great voice acting, including Patrick Stewart as King Richard.

Then I decided to play the sequel, Lands of Lore: Guardians of Destiny (Virgin Games, 1997). It marked a shift in tone and gameplay for the series. Developed by the same Westwood team, the game was designed during a period of significant technological change in gaming, including the rise of 3D graphics and free-roaming environments. As a result, it departed from the grid-based system of its predecessor, embracing a more dynamic and cinematic experience. Today it looks a bit primitive, and I prefer the traditional Eye of the Beholder style, but I can understand they wanted to try something innovative for the time. It just didn’t feel like it belonged to the same series.

The sequel takes place years after the events of The Throne of Chaos and follows Luther, a cursed young man caught in a struggle between opposing forces of light and dark. The story explores themes of duality, redemption, and destiny, with Luther’s transformations into beast and lizard forms playing a central role in both narrative and gameplay. It’s critical to learn when to use Luther’s beast form for combat and his lizard form for agility and puzzle-solving.

I never played Guardians of Destiny when it was launched, and playing it now wasn’t really a satisfying experience. Gameplay is a bit clunky and the game crashed constantly (I know, it wasn’t originally designed for a super fast computer made a quarter of a century later). So I gladly put it away and started looking for the next one.

Favorite 2000s Live Action TV Series

  • The West Wing (1999–2006)
  • The Sopranos (1999–2007)
  • Alias (2001-2006)
  • The Wire (2002-2008)
  • Firefly (2002–2003)
  • House (2004–2012)
  • How I Met Your Mother (2005-2014)
  • Dexter (2006–2013)
  • Mad Men (2007-2015)
  • Breaking Bad (2008-2013)
  • Fringe (2008–2013)
  • True Blood (2008–2014)

Lost in Space: from Robinson Crusoe to the Stars

I’ve recently bingewatched the many iterations of Lost in Space. The “castaway as hero” idea is surprisingly adaptable. It has been marooned on islands, stranded on planets, and even hurled across galaxies. As a concept, it all started with one resourceful guy: Robinson Crusoe and his tale of survival that kicked off a whole genre, sparked imitators and adaptations, and eventually landed an entire family Lost in Space.

In 1719, Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe hit the shelves, changing the literary world forever. Possibly inspired by the true story of Alexander Selkirk, a marooned Scottish sailor who survived alone on an island for over four years, Defoe created a character that wasn’t just about survival. He was about resilience, ingenuity, and conquering the wilderness. Crusoe embodied the everyman, facing an unknown world with only his wits and some salvaged tools from his shipwreck. Robinson Crusoe became a huge hit, inspiring readers with its themes of self-reliance and adventure. The novel’s success wasn’t just due to its gripping story but also to Defoe’s new, realistic style that made readers feel like they were living each harrowing day alongside Crusoe.

But let’s not forget that Crusoe, by our contemporary standards, was not such a good guy. All that resilience, self-reliance, and determination were supported by his contemporary belief in European superiority, a mindset that defined much of the colonial age. When his shipwreck occurs, he’s en route to buy slaves, demonstrating his view of other people as property. Later, his treatment of Friday, the native man he rescues on the island, also reflects this perspective. Instead of asking for his name, Crusoe just names him “Friday” and establishes himself as “Master”, reinforcing the hierarchy typical of colonial relationships. While Crusoe teaches Friday his language and customs, he doesn’t treat him as an equal. Instead, he sees himself as “civilizing” Friday, which reflects a distinctly European, colonial view of the world and its people. Despite this (or perhaps because of this), Robinson Crusoe resonated widely with readers, not just as a tale of survival, but as a story that expressed Europe’s growing fascination with exploration and domination.

With Robinson Crusoe‘s massive popularity, writers rushed to create similar tales of isolation and survival in hostile environments. Thus was born the “Robinsonade”, a genre that echoed Crusoe’s trials, only with new settings, characters, and scenarios. Robinsonades often share certain characteristics: a protagonist isolated in a hostile or unfamiliar environment and forced to rely on ingenuity to survive, themes of self-discovery, and the idea of re-civilizing oneself while taming the wild around them.

Some notable examples include The Coral Island (1858), by R.M. Ballantyne, where three boys are stranded on a Polynesian island, and Lord of the Flies (1954), by William Golding, which turns the Robinsonade on its head by showing kids devolving into savagery rather than embracing civility. Robinsonades captivated readers by making them ask “What would I do in that situation?”.

If Robinson Crusoe did his thing solo, The Swiss Family Robinson (1812), by Johann David Wyss, took a family of castaways and set them loose on an exotic island. Here, we get the full family adventure, complete with domestic disputes, moral lessons, and an endless supply of miraculously useful shipwrecked supplies. The story follows a pastor, his wife, and their children as they shipwreck on an uninhabited island. Together, they build a treehouse, tame wild animals, and create a self-sustaining mini-society, all while keeping a spirit of togetherness and moral fortitude. Even as a kid, I found that book extremely boring. But in its time the novel became one of the most popular Robinsonades, particularly for children. It made the idea of surviving as a family team seem achievable and even fun, despite the occasionally outlandish plot devices.

Inspired by The Swiss Family Robinson, creator Irwin Allen brought a twist on the Robinsonade to the small screen with Lost in Space in the 1960s: here, the Robinson family is lost again, but in space. Set in the distant future of 1997 (which seemed much more futuristic in 1965, when the series was launched), the series follows the Robinson family as they embark on a mission to colonize a distant planet to escape Earth’s overpopulation. Their ship, the Jupiter 2, is sabotaged by the scheming Dr. Zachary Smith, who accidentally strands himself along with the Robinsons in an uncharted galaxy.

This version of Lost in Space brought us classic, campy 1960s scifi: clunky robots, cardboardy sets, and the iconic catchphrase “Danger, Will Robinson”. Dr. Smith, who began as a sinister villain, quickly morphed into a clumsy comedic character, stealing every scene with his cowardly antics. Though entertaining at times, the original Lost in Space made no effort to be realistic and relied too much on slapstick humor and “monster of the week” episodes. It was fine for its time, but it often lacked depth or continuity. However, it did spark imaginations and set the stage for the scifi family adventures to come.

In 1998 we got Lost in Space, the big-screen adaptation meant to reintroduce the Robinsons to a new generation. Starring Gary Oldman as a creepier Dr. Smith and a whole lot of CGI, this movie went full throttle with its special effects. The story largely stayed the same: the Robinson family, Dr. Smith’s betrayal, and the quest to return home. While the film had some cool moments, it also had a bit of an identity crisis. It was tonally inconsistent, wavering between scifi action and family drama, and it often got lost in its own convoluted plot twists. Despite the star-studded cast (William Hurt, Matt LeBlanc, Mimi Rogers, Heather Graham, and good old eerie Oldman), it fell flat with audiences, who were left scratching their heads over some confusing story choices (especially that poorly conceived time travel bit). It didn’t exactly do justice to the Robinsons’ legacy, unless you enjoy that kind of late-90s blockbuster energy. And that alien monkey is an unforgivably stupid idea.

And then came the 2018 Netflix reboot of Lost in Space. Finally, a version that explored the original concept with some depth and creativity. The Robinsons were once again stranded in a hostile galaxy, but this time with a serious upgrade in production, storytelling, and character depth. This series put the focus back on family dynamics, making each Robinson a fleshed-out character with distinct strengths, flaws, and personal arcs.

This Lost in Space skillfully blended high-stakes drama with visually stunning scifi worlds, bringing a modern spin to the Robinsonade. But what makes it really work is the reinvention of the main characters

John Robinson (Toby Stephens) is now a career military man. He begins the series as a somewhat distant father and husband. His years away on duty strained his relationship with his family, particularly Maureen, and left him struggling to connect with his children. However, throughout their perilous journey, John evolves into a steadfast protector and a more emotionally available father, proving his devotion to his family through acts of heroism and sacrifice. His practical mindset and combat skills are crucial in ensuring the family’s survival.

Maureen Robinson (Molly Parker), very differently from the previous versions, is now the brains behind the Robinsons’ mission to colonize space. She is a brilliant scientist, fiercely determined, resourceful, and willing to make tough decisions to ensure her family’s survival. Maureen’s love for her children is her main drive, though her single-minded focus sometimes causes friction, particularly when her ambition leads her to make morally ambiguous choices. She’s a powerful portrayal of a mother and leader in equal measure.

The Robinson sisters, who had very little agency in their previous iterations, now are strong figures with their own character arcs. Judy (Taylor Russell), the eldest, is now Maureen’s daughter from a previous relationship, adding an interesting dynamic to the family structure. A young doctor with nerves of steel, she is a natural leader and role model for her siblings. Her mixed-race heritage is a refreshing update to the character and adds a modern dimension to the family’s story. Penny (Mina Sundwall), the middle child, provides much of the series’ humor and heart. She’s sarcastic, creative, and sometimes impulsive, balancing the serious stakes of the story with her lighthearted quips and teenage perspective. She’s also, in a way, the narrator of the story.

Will Robinson (Maxwell Jenkins), boy genius, is in the center of the narrative, not so much for his personality but because of his link with the Robot. He can be an annoying character at times, especially when he combines an idealistic moral compass with the very naive and inexperieced decision making process of a child.

The Robot (Brian Steele) was completely reinvented for this series, from his looks to his origins. Now he is an alien machine with a mysterious past. Initially terrifying, he transforms into Will’s loyal guardian after an early act of compassion. The Robot’s arc explores themes of redemption and free will, as he struggles to reconcile his violent past with his new role as a family ally. His bond with Will is one of the show’s emotional pillars, offering moments of warmth and tension alike. And yes, the Robot says “Danger, Will Robinson”.

Someone decided that Don West (Ignacio Serricchio) should be the comedic character in the group, and he was demoted from the dashing pilot and adventurer of the original series to a bumbling roguish mechanic. I think he was supposed to be the lovable scoundrel with a heart of gold, but no character carrying a pet chicken can be taken seriously.

And finally, Dr. Smith (Parker Posey), the most interesting reinvention for this version of Lost in Space. Unlike the campy villain of the original series, this Dr. Smith is a cunning and dangerous sociopath, willing to exploit anyone to survive. Her backstory reveals a troubled and desperate individual who uses deception as her primary weapon. Despite her villainous tendencies, her complexity makes her a fascinating character, the kind you love to hate but can’t entirely dismiss. Her unpredictability keeps everyone on edge.

Where the original series was largely episodic, the 2018 reboot gave us a more serialized story that built real suspense and stakes, making each escape and confrontation feel genuinely perilous. The modern Lost in Space didn’t just update the effects, it also enriched the emotional layers and themes.

Favorite 1990s Live Action TV Series

In chronological order.

  • Twin Peaks (1990-1991)
  • The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (1990-1996)
  • Babylon 5 (1993–1998)
  • Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993–1999)
  • NYPD Blue (1993-2005)
  • Everybody Loves Raymond (1996-2005)
  • 3rd Rock from the Sun (1996–2001)
  • Stargate SG-1 (1997–2007)
  • Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003)

Playing Old CRPGs Again: Eye of the Beholder Trilogy

Eye of the Beholder (SSI, 1991) was the first computer game that I felt represented the spirit of the tabletop Dungeons & Dragons (which, at the time, was in its AD&D 2nd Edition). Another advantage for me was that the story happened beneath the city of Waterdeep, a famous location for fans of Dungeons & Dragons. Khelben Arunsun, one of the Lords of Waterdeep, tasks our group of adventurers to go investigate what’s wrong in the city sewers, and that’s just the beginning of a large dungeon expedition.

The game was somewhat similar to the first The Bard’s Tale but it looked much better. Objects in your inventory were represented by images rather than just text. Music and sounds were more realistic. Mouse support made it easier to play. And, although the continuous time combat was not as pleasing as the turn based mode of The Bard’s Tale, the whole experience was much more engrossing. Having recently played The Bard’s Tale, one single feature (or lack of it) by itself makes the game much more pleasurable in comparison: there is no need to carry torches or to spend mana points casting light, as the dungeons are naturally lit. In contrast, while in The Bard’s Tale food was not a consideration, in Eye of the Beholder you have to carry rations and make sure your characters don’t starve.

Mapping the dungeons on graph paper was part of the experience of playing a CRPG at the time. But trying to play that way in 2024, after decades of games with an automapping feature, was just too irksome. Fortunately, I found an application called The All-Seeing Eye, which adds automapping to the Eye of the Beholder series. It only works on Windows systems, but it was well worth temporarily switching from my new cool Mac to my crappy old PC just to enjoy the game with maps.

Eye of the Beholder is not as demanding as The Bard’s Tale can be, but it’s not an easy game. The mindflayers on level 11 are particularly nasty, because they can simply paralyze the whole party and then attack until everyone is dead. Fortunately, the Kenku level offers an opportunity for grinding, as the Kenkus will continually respawn, so you can reach the mindflayers with a robust party.

My team was formed by Max (human male paladin), Xul (dwarf male fighter/thief), Leonora (human female cleric), and Salvador (human male mage). The names are inspired by surrealist painters. They all start at level 3. Thanks to all the grinding in the Kenku level, and also by not accepting extra members to share the experience points, my party finished the game around level 8, more specifically Max at level 8, Xul at level 7/9, Leonora at level 8, and Salvador at level 8. Killing the beholder Xanathar, the last monster, required a lot of maneuvering and the use of a trap conveniently located nearby.

Eye of the Beholder II: The Legend of Darkmoon (SSI, 1991) uses basically the same engine from the previous game, with prettier art. After defeating Xanathar in the first adventure, our mission now is to investigate the Darkmoon temple and find the scout sent by Khelben Arunsun earlier. The threat is much worse this time. While the big boss in the first game was a beholder, the villain here is Dran Draggore, a dragon in human form who was using Xanathar as a pawn in his own plans and now has an army of many creatures, including several beholders.

Even with all the grinding in the previous game, my team didn’t seem overpowered at all. But the equipment they brought was good, even better than anything found in the first phases here. Fighting the multiple beholders in the Silver Tower can be quite annoying, because they have the ability to simply kill a party member with a single attack. Find two or three beholders together and you will be reloading your game. My party for the second game: Max (human male paladin, level 8, imported from EOB1), Xul (dwarf male fighter/thief, level 7/9, imported from EOB1), Leonora (human female cleric, level 8, imported from EOB1), Salvador (human male mage, level 8, imported from EOB1), San-Raal (elf male mage level 8, rescued from the catacombs), Calandra (human female fighter, level 9, rescued from the catacombs and tagging along just until the party finds her replacement), and Tanglor (half-elf male fighter/cleric, rescued from the Silver Tower and replacing Calandra because a second cleric is more useful than a third fighter).

There’s much more respawning in this game than in the previous one, so grinding for more experience is not a problem. With a bit of patience, I managed to win the final fight against Dran Draggore, who actually has to be defeated twice, first in his human form and then as a dragon. I had much fun playing these two games, and it was particularly nice to be able to import my characters from the first to the second game. It’s a feature that I learned to appreciate with Eye of the Beholder.

But then there was Eye of the Beholder III: Assault on Myth Drannor (SSI, 1993). Big disappointment. The storyline is generic and uninspired. The gameplay is monotonous and repetitive. Even the graphics are inferior in comparison with the previous two games. I’m not sure why they didn’t have Westwood Associates developing the game like they did with the first two, and instead used a new team to deliver this fiasco. I played it for a while but got too bored to continue. On to the next game…

Favorite 1980s Live Action TV Series

In chronological order.

  • Hill Street Blues (1981)
  • ‘Allo ‘Allo! (1982-1992)
  • Cheers (1982–1993)
  • Blackadder (1983)
  • Moonlighting (1985–1989)
  • L.A. Law (1986-1994)
  • Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987-1994)
  • Quantum Leap (1989–1993)
  • Seinfeld (1989-1998)

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 Zander Dulac

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑