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the Festus an exploration and analysis |
| Festus | Introduction
Four times has a Festus soared onto the small screen,
thrice as the Festus 7, and once as the original Festus.
Despite the relatively high popularity of the four Worst Sci-Fi
"films," no complete analysis of the Festi has been written.
This is clearly a lacking field, especially when one considers the vast
surfeit of information available online about, for instance, the
fictional Enterprise. Here, in an official capacity, we present
to you a full analysis of these two ships which have graced the screen
in four motion pictures... We can easily claim (albeit falsely) that that the name Festus is drawn from an ancient source. Assuming this, then, the Festus was named after one of the governors of Judea, Porcius Festus. Anyone who knows anything about history will know that, for hundreds of years, Rome ruled an empire spanning from Spain to Syria, and from Britain to Lybia. To better rule these areas, the Republic, and later the Empire, divided its land up into client kingdoms or provinces. Certainly the most problematic of these provinces was Judea, located in present-day Israel. Here, the Emperor sent governors whom he did not like, and had no desire to see daily in Rome. History records the names of only a few governors. The most notable of these was, certainly, Pontius Pilate. He is known as one of the wimpiest rulers in history: when he was faced with the decision of letting an innocent man named Jesus die, or face the scorn of the populace, he refused to intervene, and allowed Jesus to be crucified. Pilate's reign lasted from AD 26 to AD 36. The next governor known by history was Felix, whose notoriety is also drawn from interaction with early Christians. On a legality, the apostle Paul was arrested during Felix's reign, much to the delight of the Jews who were disgusted by the growing sect Christianity. Felix, having no desire to execute the innocent man, but at the same time afraid of the angry citizens, left Paul in jail when he finished his term. It is at this point that the summary of the governors of Judea comes to be of relevance to this analysis of the Festi, because the sucessor of Felix was Porcius Festus. Little is known of the life of the man after whom the great line of rocketships were named. As with Felix, his only item of note is in his dealings with Paul. Festus, it seems, had a little more courage than Felix. Unafraid of the vengeful Jews, Festus allowed Paul to appeal to the Emperor Nero, thus saving him from execution at hands of the Jews. The result of Paul's appeal can be described elsewhere. We only know two other items of information on Festus: he made attempts to weed out terrorist groups roaming around Judea, and he was the only Roman governor of Judea to die in office. Two other governors succeeded Festus before the revolt which I will describe in another place. These were Albinus (who was awful), and Florus (who was even worse). The governors after the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70 are of no consequence to this narrative. One would wonder, then, why Space Command chose to name the
proudest line of rocketships after this obscure governor of a small
Roman province? With certainty, his importance in the life of the
apostle Paul was a deciding factor. Certainly, the ship-naming
committee at the Space Command Headquarters in Florida were looking for
something different and unique (how many constellations and
former presidents can one fleet have?). When looking through the
ancient history books, Festus surely stood out as a Roman with
a unique name who also had historical importance, and a fair degree of
morals to top it off. Thus, based off of a little-known historical
figure, unnamed Space Command Officials bore a legend. Today, little is known of the six Festi not shown on screen: the Festi 2-6, and the Festus 8. We can assume that the intermediate ships shared the traits of both ships, gradating from the Festus to the Festus 7. We know not what fates befell seven of the eight known Festi. And, a less vexing question is: when did Space Command switch from baremetal to rubbery blue finishes? While the two Festi about which we have ample information (the Festus and the Festus 7) were similarly styled, they shared few other likenesses. The Festus was designed as an interplanetary rocketship, for trips within our Solar System, with durations of a few years. The engine was a "brand new, science-fictioney nuclear rocket drive," which provided the needed push to fly "out past Jupiter." Being a relatively small ship with a crew of only five, the Festus could be launched from a planet's surface and into space (from Cape Canaveral, incidentally). Once in space, the Festus dropped into a parking orbit, and prepared for the engine burn toward Saturn. Once on their way, the acceleration was quick and uneventful, dashing past the moon in no time flat. For planetary landings, as shown in the film, the Festus held a detachable landing shuttle, nestled in the hull on the opposite side from the crew cabin. The shuttle also possessed revolutionary propulsion systems (which to this day are top-secret) which allowed the shuttle to change the declination and even direction of its orbit. This allowed landings at points all across a planet's surface. Taking off into space was merely a reenactment of the Festus' launch, but on a smaller scale. Following the Festus' return from its five-year mission (on which they discovered the great Willmark, borne of the planet Willmarkoor), the records are fuzzy regarding the later life of the ship. It is likely that it undertook several later missions, including one commanded by the General-Duke of Altair, exploring the volcanic wastes of Io. However, several factors lead to the demise of nuclear rocketship travel, and the the Festus' ultimate relegation to the Smithsonian. First, many ships patterned after, and improved upon, the Festus now plied space between Earth and the gas giants. Second, most of the spots of great scientific intrigue, which the original mission had investigated, had now become converted into amusement parks and casinos. Third, warp travel was invented, making flights to nearby stars possible and easy. By this time, General Proxima was a proffessor at Tycho University on the moon, and General-Duke Altair held a powerful command position in the shady "Time Corps." Five Festi followed the original, after its decomissioning. Gaps of hundreds of years fall between some of the ships, and it is difficult to determine what occurred during this time. Of these five Festi, two survived their service: the Festus 3, as grain silo in eastern Kansas, and the Festus 5, now serving as an enormous prop for low-budget historial epics. The Festus 7, the most famous and influential of all the Festi was the class ship of a new line. They included a number of innovative technologies and materials in their designs: ablative, rubberized armor; advanced weapons systems; "intellegent" computer systems; and matter transmitters. It was first commissioned under the command of Rear Admiral bouncing, but he was soon succeeded by his next of kin, Captain Bitscape. During the time of this great captain's promotion to command of the Festus 7, a new Space Command policy, for greater efficiency, dictated that no names be used to address crewmates, and all officers should be referred to by their rank. Additionally, many ships were staffed by "skeleton crews," who worked more efficiently in pairs than greater numbers. With the highest technology available, this could scarcely become burdensome to the two crewmembers on duty. In the first year of the Great Light War, a Lieutenant was eaten by a cold-blooded monster during an "away mission." He was replaced by a lieutenant who later came to be known as "Captain Logan." Their subsequent adventure is traced in the epic Worst Sci-Fi Trilogy, in which the Festus 7 distinguished itself in the Great Light War, which lasted five years. In this final stave of this war, the ship was destroyed when Captain Bitscape rammed it into a large light ship, destroying both ships, in his quest to save Captain Logan from his imprisonment in the light base. Following the celebrations (which were
small), the Festus 8 was
commissioned, and the two Captains
were placed in command. It remains to be seen what new adventures await
in the wings for this ship, although the families of the captains are
certainly hoping that these adventures are few and far between. image:
The Festus prior to launch. Excepting the above treatment of ancient history, everything above is pure fantasy, right down to the supposed origin of the name Festus. Until after we completed the last Worst Sci-Fi flick, we were totally oblivious to the fact that a Festus existed outside of our imagination. However, we eventually discovered a Festus, Missouri (south of St. Louis), and Porcius Festus, described above. In fact, our inspiration for the name "Festus" came from a "Fest," which Ted and his friends (including Bitscape) had performed prior to shooting wsf-1. A fest is an event in which Ted and his friends stay up all night and stare blankly at their computer screens. For a full account of one such gathering, one might look here. However, "fest" comes from "festival," which itself is drawn from the Latin word "festal." The Roman name "Festus" can also hearken back to "festal" as its inspiration. Therefore, our inspiration for "Festus" was etymologically connected to the Roman origin, albeit circuitously. The first set for the Festus 7 was not a set at all, but merely Ted's bedroom in the basement, with an archaic oscilloscope added simply for effect. The computer graphics were from ordinary desktop computers, and the joystick I used was the same employed for flight simulator programs in years past. It was minimalist filmmaking in every sense. For wsf-2, we used similar techniques, but we "retrofitted" the ship, to allow ourselves to use some new locations. This ended up being our living room, complete with authentic couch and domestic kitchen in the background. The "battle bridge" scenes were again shot in the basement, but with added cubicles, which we had since installed. For wsf-3, we shot the interiors in essentially the same manner. But, for wsf-0, I had already
established that I would inject into it "a higher visual standard."
These cubicles and plywood ceilings simply would not work. I would have
to build a set, paint it, and dress it, before we could shoot. I
created the set around two folding tables, set at an angle to each
other. The space below the tables was filled with painted sheets of
drywall, while above it I built an arched series of window panes. At
the far end of the set was a television, which was planned for several
scenes, but only one was ultimately shot. (For more on revisions
of the script, see the script versions presented on the main wsf-0
page, as well as the annotated screenplay.) Outside of the window, I hung huge sheets of black cloth, which Ted and I bought specifically for use in the movie. After I had the cloth stapled or pinned in place, I glued hundreds of shiny mylar specks to the cloth, which would reflect as stars when hit by the correct light. This special effect worked well in only a few shots. I was rather disappointed. Furthermore, I had no means of creating a travelling matte. Thus, the asteroids hurtling at the ship and the huge images of the planets, as called for in the script, did not make it into the final film. But, all of this was academic if one
couldn't show the outside of the ship, and convince the viewer, at
least a little, that it was really flying through space. This was the
realm of visual effects. image: A
front shot of the Festus
bridge set. Since wsf-1 was shot in a day, we had no time at all to conceptualize, plan, and execute complex visual effects shots. Instead, we pulled an inflatable model with a string in front of a ping-pong table, and supplemented it with the Windows "space" screensaver. When the Festus 7 was supposed to hover above the surface of Nevis 4, we lowered the ship down on strings, next to one of Ted's many spiderplants. The effects for wsf-2 were a little better, but not by much. We had a full day to plan the effects, and I had been contemplating them for a while beforehand. I concluded that I definitely needed a black space backdrop, and I would need to move the camera slowly and gracefully, for sweeping panning shots. I mounted the camera on a skateboard, but its wheels were poorly-greased, and it jerked around a fair deal. This made most of my shots look even worse than they already were. To make up, just a little, we lit fire to one of our spacedock models. Pyro effects are always fun. But, that sort of effect simply had to go. It wasn't working for the sort of plots and scenarios I had in mind. It was not nearly convincing enough. First, I would have to get rid of the threads holding up the model. Second, I would need to forget about moving the model or the camera, since this was too uneven and choppy. So, I invented a technique which was a graceless, but effective, melding of the real and digital worlds. Essentially, I used a form of digital animation. Take note that this is not computer-generated imagery; we used that in our next film. It is, in fact, cell animation, except with a little extra digital help. I used a few basic shots of the Festus 7 model, and reproduced it as need be, scaling it, duplicating it, and moving it across the screen. This worked to some extent, but not fully. For instance, a shot of the Festus 7 dropping out of hyperspace was, in my mind, an awesome and well-executed shot, and it looked at least as real as, if not better than, an equivalent shot in CGI. However, some shots were not as good. A few shots featured improperly-scaled elements, which were blown up to ridiculous sizes and with accentuated pixels. Some shots, when I got lazy, were short or sloppy. For instance, the shot of Captain Bitscape ejecting from the doomed ship featured an enormous escape pod which miraculously popped through the skin of the ship and flew out into space. This was my first, and to date only, foray into true model photography. It was interesting, and the results were at least decent. But, since I used only one plate for any shot, the subject seemed obviously flat, and there was not sensation of it sweeping past the camera. All of the effects shots seemed as if they were shot through a telephoto lens, giving them a boring, visually uninteresting feel. A particularly difficult scene to shoot was the destruction of the Festus 7. Since this included great amounts of fire, this would be impossible to animate, so we would have to do it live, with real fire. Ted and I had no problem with that. The end result was passable, but not spectacular by any means. It would have been more effective with descriptive music. For wsf-0, I decided that we certainly needed not mediocre, but unquestionably good effects. For this, I enlisted the help of my friend Jani Strzepek, who is slowly becoming a master CGI artist. Since I was now handing the reigns of the effects over to another person, I used a great deal of correspondence to ascertain that my vision was properly portrayed on screen. It was, without any notable exceptions. The launch sequence was one where everything came together in one: sets, effects, composite shots, full-blooded CGI, dubbed voices, sound effects, and even obviously-dated stock footage. This is certainly not the place to expend great amounts of space on describing the CGI effects which we have used, and we will use again. That will be elsewhere, although where exactly, I cannot say. One more element was left to convince
the audience: music. image:
The Festus climbs skyward. The first Worst Sci-Fi production had no pre-production or post-production phase of any sort, and thus there was no music in it at all. For the second movie, we used the classical piece "The Blue Danube Waltz," by Johann Strauss II, while in the third production, we used three separate classical pieces. By the time we made wsf-0, it was clear that we needed a more continuous score for the movie. Thus, I wrote a number of leitmotifs, or themes, for all of the major characters and things. I borrowed two themes I had written before. One was the Space Command theme, which I had composed a year and a half prior. The other was a theme I had intended to use for wsf-2, but I ditched before shooting began. I pulled it out of the back recesses of my mind, dusted it off, and named it "The Festus Fanfare." It was a short musical piece, being only a few measures long. I used it extensively during the launch sequence, and in some scenes afterwards. A curious fan may hear it on the soundtrack. Thus concludes my official analysis of
the Festus and the Festus 7. Only one more item is
left
to explore: the connection of flying rocketry and Worst Sci-Fi... For quite some time, I had considered building a flying rocket of a Festus rocketship. For several months during the production of The Worst Sci-Fi Prequel Ever!, in fact, I planned to use a flying rocket for the launch sequence. This would provide a fun, semi-realistic effect, and create a definite link between the WAEC and my amateur movie projects. However, several factors converged to prevent this from happening. Firstly, I had grounded the entire WAEC fleet that summer, because I didn't want to "tempt fate" by launching during a period of extreme fire danger. Secondly, I was never willing to devote the time or money to build a model of the Festus which I couldn't launch in the forseeable future. Finally, we ignored this problem for so long that we needed to come up with a better solution. For the final film, Jani composited a CG Festus on top of footage of a Saturn V launch. I forgot about this idea for a while, until early in the summer of 2003, when Jani presented me with an Estes kit called "Mini Meanie." It was a boring kit with little interesting styling, except that it formed the classic V-2 shape, used in rocketships for the past fifty years. This, Jani suggested, would be an excellent candidate for conversion into a Festus. With no modification, I realized, the "Mini Meanie" could be transformed into the Festus 7. A new paint job would be the only difference. This I easily added. For the base color, I made use of a "sea blue," which was perhaps a little too dark. There were no details on the original rubber model off of which I could base the paint scheme, with the exception of the round portholes running along one side. This allowed me to take some liberties in the paint scheme. I added some Space Command logos on the fins, as well as an Art Deco "Festus 7" written on the side, and some various hatches and whatnot. With this done, I was ready to fly the first ever flying model of a Festus rocketship. Twice I fired off the Festus 7 on the 25th of June, 2003. Both flights were perfect, unlike the other rockets I shot off that day. I could easily fly this rocket again, since it suffered no damage at all from its flight. I have another similar rocket, which I
plan to convert into the original Festus.
That would be a more
difficult challenge than this. In the mortal words of General Rigel,
"May the Festus fly on with
the strength and blessing of the
nation..." image:
A
full shot of the Festus 7
rocket. In the world of fiction, anything can happen. This is easily illustrated by my summary of the Festus rocketships. Another clearly-illustrated fact is that, more often than not, it is the truth which is stranger than the fiction. |
| Copyright 2003 by Willy Logan. All rights reserved. | |
