Alright, so it's been long enough since Uncharted graced the PS3 in 2007 that we can agree: while solid, it was far from perfect. The gunplay often degenerated into samey stop-and-pop shootouts in impressive but identical jungle locations, protagonist Nathan Drake came off as kind of a smug invincible douchebag, and as one reviewer cleverly pointed out, it sort of feels a bit like propagating the master race. What it does right though, is to seamlessly blend a menagerie of gameplay styles-- platforming, third-person shooting, simple but satisfying puzzles-- and tie it all together into a fun, lighthearted adventure romp. It's like the good version of "National Treasure," though even a smug invincible douchebag comparing favorably to Nicolas Cage isn't exactly a challenge.
So here we are now with "Uncharted 2: Among Thieves," and I'm glad to say it's living proof that some developers are in fact capable of improving and enriching their sequels rather than simply repackaging it and selling it to you again for 60$. It's the rare game that actually manages to be the full package-- some you play for story, some for gameplay, some just because it looks pretty... but Naughty Dog's put all their money on this one, and I'd be lying if I said that they didn't pull it all off with enviable skill and seeming ease.
Granted, the story of "U2" isn't exactly going to change your life-- it's pure unabashed "Indiana Jones" fare, i.e. pulp adventure fiction-- but it's worth acknowledging that a story doesn't need to be meaningful in order to be well told and satisfying. While it's clear that it's following in a rather troubling trend of games that want to be movies, it doesn't interpret this as 'bogging the player down in cutscenes' (see MGS4 and every FF game since '97) but rather in staging massive setpieces that blur the line between interactivity and passive viewing, and many of these (such as fighting soliders as a building crumbles around you, or making your way across the canopies of a military convoy) are truly a marvel to play as well as behold-- not to mention the furious pace that the game throws these at you.
In classic sequel form, the returning characters here are greatly expanded (the most subtle and satisfying of which involves Elena), including Drake himself. Here we see that he does, in fact, have his share of flaws, vulnerabilities, unchecked ego and gets himself beaten to shit more than once. Sure, he's still kind of a wisecracking asshole, but now he really feels like a RELATABLE wisecracking asshole, less a caricature then... well, a person, and it does a great deal to make you both root for him and take satisfaction in his victories over seemingly insurmountable odds. We also get a new femme fatale by the name of Chloe (who is EXACTLY what Lara Croft should have always been), and a villain who's both satisfying to go up against and still gets a touch of development, and while you won't exactly hate him any less it does make him seem, again, more like an actual character than most video game adversaries. He's kind of like... well, Belloq if he'd had a Zuko scar and the might of a Red Army PMC behind him.
Visually, I'll say simply that "U2" has raised the bar. While the move to visual realism that gaming has embraced doesn't always work for some, it definitely works here; it's gorgeous to behold, packed with loving attention to detail in everything from character models to stunning backgrounds and exquisite level design. Most impressive, the framerate never chugs, there's never a single bit of the texture-pop that's more or less a common fact of modern gaming nowadays, and it does it all without a single loading screen. Even when you die, it takes less than a few seconds to pop right back up at the last checkpoint, and while it might SOUND like a small thing the impact on play is actually pretty staggering: it's easy to get sucked into a game for hours on end when you don't have a little loading bar filling up on the bottom of the screen.
Speaking of hours on end, multiplayer will definitely keep you entertained, despite some occasionally long matchmaking times and a rather broken matchmaking system, admittedly. Seriously, don't be surprised if your first time in is spent more eating bullets than feeding them. But it's still a lot of fun, and if fighting your fellow players isn't your speed, then the excellent co-op modes (often featuring nice touches like new cutscenes that make them feel like a part of the actual campaign proper) will certainly do the trick.
"Uncharted 2" performs the rare feat of delivering on the original's promise while also vastly improving it and providing something for nearly every gaming taste. It's not exactly revolutionary, but the fun factor here certainly can't be denied, nor the prospect of more adventures with a truly enjoyable cast of characters. Being 'original' is easy, but being good his harder, and here's hoping that the rest of Nathan Drake's exploits are as good as this.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Astro Boy review
Y'know, not so long ago in the introductory post that kickstarted this little blog, I mentioned that I was a big animation buff and that when a release came out, I'd more often than not be inclined to see/talk about it more than most other releases, especially in the event of a low crop. And while-- getting as close to the winter Academy Awards push as we are-- things are certainly not slow, it's still that time. So gird your loins and get ready kiddies: Today we're going to talk about "Astro Boy."
Admittedly, my interest in this film stems less from any sort of fandom associated with the original manga or the animated series that remains fondly remembered even today-- I never saw the cartoon, and I'm only marginally familiar with the original comic-- as much as an anthropolgical/cultural one. This was confirmed for me after doing a little digging into the film's production and finding that my suspicions were confirmed-- it was being created by an AMERICAN company, specifically by David Bowers, who previously associated with Claymation-Gods-On-Earth Aardman on the not-bad-but-not-particularly-memorable "Flushed Away" a few years back.
(Truth be told, I figured this was the case since, well, the CGI actually looked pretty good, and for all that anime can do on paper with the admitted exception of Square Enix most anime-CGI ends up looking like... well, this. Yeeeaaaaahhh.)
But seriously, by having the "Astro Boy" movie made by Americans during a sort of revival of the character, we're essentially watching him return to his distant cultural roots-- a Western vision of a beloved anime series based on a beloved manga series written itself by a man who shamelessly adored Western animation (in particular Walt Disney) along with its science-fiction, and fashioned his characters in a decidedly similar style. You don't need to look TOO hard to see the resemblance between Astro Boy and, say, classic Mickey Mouse if you think about it.
But ehh, enough rambling, onto the film itself. The only problem there is... ehh, there isn't really a lot to SAY about "Astro Boy," because LIKE "Flushed Away" it's really... just not that great. Not bad, not painful and certainly not offensively stupid like 'kiddie' cartoons can often be nowadays, but there's just something about the production that feels... not rushed, but kind of disjointed.
The biggest problem with "Astro Boy" is that it suffers from a case of Trying Too Hard. The original "Astro Boy" was, for all its inherent weirdness and mayhem, essentially a lighthearted superhero yarn in the thread of the original "Superman" comics-- never too dark, always with a happy ending, you get the idea. Bowers, clearly making an effort to deepen his endeavor, opted to add more depth and a bit of cynicism to the story, along with hints of just about every other classic Animated Film of the last decade, from "The Iron Giant" to "WALL-E."
Now I'm not saying that Bowers SHOULDN'T have attempted this-- it certainly worked for the underrated "Metropolis" from waaaayy back in 2004 (itself a prettified update of a classic Osamu Tezuka work), taking an already decidedly grim take on Tezuka's theme of robots as a metaphor for segregation/racism/ethnic disparity and transforming it into a brilliant noir-ish detective-story-cum-mysterious-girl narrative complete with-- I kid you not-- THE GREATEST AND MOST INVENTIVE USE OF A RAY CHARLES SONG EVER PUT TO THE SCREEN-- but bear in mind that "Metropolis" borrowed from a wide array of seemingly unlike
parts to craft something wholly unique and original, whereas "Astro Boy" just feels a bit... derivative. Oh sure, there are bits where this approach works-- Astro's status as a robot in a society that largely denegrates them works well to illustrate the unshakable feeling of 'difference' that most of us (especially kids) feel most (all) of the time, but often it just comes off as a bit overbearing.
The rest of the film is a mixed bag, essentially. The action sequences are often fun and inventive, but the humor falls flat on its face more often than not (even a potentially clever running gag involving a robot guerilla resistance and their underwhelming efforts to free their 'brothers' comes off less funny than filler). The writing never feels like it's really TRYING to shove a moral down your throat (something more manga/anime creators need to get a handle on) and is surprisingly understated, but the voice acting runs the gamut from good to Freddie-Highmore-faking-a-Zac-Efron-esque-American-Accent obnoxious (with an against-all-odds-dare-I-say-it almost slightly lucid Nicolas Cage running somewhere in between).
In the end is something ultimately average and not exactly memorable, but even so I'd say that you could certainly do far worse. Sure, it's rather cluttered as a movie, but it's at least TRYING to bring some deeper themes to a kids' movie, not to mention that there's definitely been some effort put into this production, something which is ultimately too rare in this genre and ultimately makes me confident that this is as good as anime adaptations are ever going to get (at least until Guilliermo Del Toro greenlights a "Claymore" movie).
It's certainly not the best children's movie of the year (the correct answer is "Where the Wild Things Are") and as far as smart animated sci-fi goes "Coraline" and "9" have nothing to worry about, but it's a decent diversion and certainly won't leave you calling for the Suicide Hotline.
That's what "The Spy Next Door" is for.
Admittedly, my interest in this film stems less from any sort of fandom associated with the original manga or the animated series that remains fondly remembered even today-- I never saw the cartoon, and I'm only marginally familiar with the original comic-- as much as an anthropolgical/cultural one. This was confirmed for me after doing a little digging into the film's production and finding that my suspicions were confirmed-- it was being created by an AMERICAN company, specifically by David Bowers, who previously associated with Claymation-Gods-On-Earth Aardman on the not-bad-but-not-particularly-memorable "Flushed Away" a few years back.
(Truth be told, I figured this was the case since, well, the CGI actually looked pretty good, and for all that anime can do on paper with the admitted exception of Square Enix most anime-CGI ends up looking like... well, this. Yeeeaaaaahhh.)
But seriously, by having the "Astro Boy" movie made by Americans during a sort of revival of the character, we're essentially watching him return to his distant cultural roots-- a Western vision of a beloved anime series based on a beloved manga series written itself by a man who shamelessly adored Western animation (in particular Walt Disney) along with its science-fiction, and fashioned his characters in a decidedly similar style. You don't need to look TOO hard to see the resemblance between Astro Boy and, say, classic Mickey Mouse if you think about it.
But ehh, enough rambling, onto the film itself. The only problem there is... ehh, there isn't really a lot to SAY about "Astro Boy," because LIKE "Flushed Away" it's really... just not that great. Not bad, not painful and certainly not offensively stupid like 'kiddie' cartoons can often be nowadays, but there's just something about the production that feels... not rushed, but kind of disjointed.
The biggest problem with "Astro Boy" is that it suffers from a case of Trying Too Hard. The original "Astro Boy" was, for all its inherent weirdness and mayhem, essentially a lighthearted superhero yarn in the thread of the original "Superman" comics-- never too dark, always with a happy ending, you get the idea. Bowers, clearly making an effort to deepen his endeavor, opted to add more depth and a bit of cynicism to the story, along with hints of just about every other classic Animated Film of the last decade, from "The Iron Giant" to "WALL-E."
Now I'm not saying that Bowers SHOULDN'T have attempted this-- it certainly worked for the underrated "Metropolis" from waaaayy back in 2004 (itself a prettified update of a classic Osamu Tezuka work), taking an already decidedly grim take on Tezuka's theme of robots as a metaphor for segregation/racism/ethnic disparity and transforming it into a brilliant noir-ish detective-story-cum-mysterious-girl narrative complete with-- I kid you not-- THE GREATEST AND MOST INVENTIVE USE OF A RAY CHARLES SONG EVER PUT TO THE SCREEN-- but bear in mind that "Metropolis" borrowed from a wide array of seemingly unlike
parts to craft something wholly unique and original, whereas "Astro Boy" just feels a bit... derivative. Oh sure, there are bits where this approach works-- Astro's status as a robot in a society that largely denegrates them works well to illustrate the unshakable feeling of 'difference' that most of us (especially kids) feel most (all) of the time, but often it just comes off as a bit overbearing.
The rest of the film is a mixed bag, essentially. The action sequences are often fun and inventive, but the humor falls flat on its face more often than not (even a potentially clever running gag involving a robot guerilla resistance and their underwhelming efforts to free their 'brothers' comes off less funny than filler). The writing never feels like it's really TRYING to shove a moral down your throat (something more manga/anime creators need to get a handle on) and is surprisingly understated, but the voice acting runs the gamut from good to Freddie-Highmore-faking-a-Zac-Efron-esque-American-Accent obnoxious (with an against-all-odds-dare-I-say-it almost slightly lucid Nicolas Cage running somewhere in between).
In the end is something ultimately average and not exactly memorable, but even so I'd say that you could certainly do far worse. Sure, it's rather cluttered as a movie, but it's at least TRYING to bring some deeper themes to a kids' movie, not to mention that there's definitely been some effort put into this production, something which is ultimately too rare in this genre and ultimately makes me confident that this is as good as anime adaptations are ever going to get (at least until Guilliermo Del Toro greenlights a "Claymore" movie).
It's certainly not the best children's movie of the year (the correct answer is "Where the Wild Things Are") and as far as smart animated sci-fi goes "Coraline" and "9" have nothing to worry about, but it's a decent diversion and certainly won't leave you calling for the Suicide Hotline.
That's what "The Spy Next Door" is for.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Brutal Legend review
No matter where you stand with gaming itself, it's hard to deny that the modern gaming landscape is a bit monotonous, with most major releases consisting of either open-world games, shooters, JRPGs or updates to fighting games we've all played a hundred times before. Oh, and whatever Nintendo franchise is being updated too.
Thankfully though, 'monotonous' isn't a word that can be applied to Tim Schafer's approach to video games. Not by a long shot. From his early days at Lucasarts on "Secret of Monkey Island" to the underappreciated "Psychonauts," he's proven himself to be a consummate auteur-- crafting vivid, wholly original worlds in playable form packed with stunning art direction, memorable characters, and genuinely funny writing; he's to gaming what Tim Burton has been to films, in that the end result on screen, while obviously supplemented by a variety of artists and contributors, is ultimately his work, his vision.
And for its occasional flaws and missteps, "Brutal Legend" proves itself a worthy jewel in Schafer's metaphorical crown, in keeping with his trademark style while also competently juggling a handful of different gameplay types.
Most of Schafer's games tend to focus around a specific idea or theme, and here it's Heavy Metal. Now while this may sound like the make-or-break part for most people, part of what makes "Brutal Legend" such an effective game is that it really sells this aspect of itself in such an unabashed, energetic way that it's hard to NOT get swept into it. Personally, not being much into Metal myself, I was surprised to find that it actually provides Schafer quite a bit of creative space, and by embracing the excesses and extremes associated with Metal, he's crafted what is quite easily the most intriguing and compelling open-world yet seen in games, and understand that I don't say that lightly. The world itself here is easily the biggest character on display-- gigantic stone guitars rise proudly from the ground, trees sprout chrome wings, and even the most benign of animals scattered throughout the geography is covered in razor-sharp quills with glowing demonic eyes. It's such a refreshing alternative to generic cityscapes, and the sheer variety really helps it to feel like a living breathing (yet appealingly surreal) world.
Which isn't to say that the characters themselves aren't interesting... far from it. Not only are they all supremely likeable and believeably flawed, but the humor here is less interested in random bullshit than in genuine wit, even more surprising considering it could easily have devolved into an endless string of in-jokey references to Metal culture (which isn't to say those AREN'T here-- after all, Ozzy Osbourne, Lemmy Killmeister and Lita Ford all make appearances-- but it never feels like you're a hanger-on or an intruder in a 'fans-only' atmosphere). Schafer clearly loves the stuff, but he at least loves it enough to make it accessible.
From a gameplay perspective, "Brutal Legend" could be accused of trying to do too much at once, and to an extent it kind of is. There's the third-person action-adventure of course, but there's also bits of rhythm games (in the solos you play to unlock items/summon vehicles/rally troops/literally melt faces) and a LOT of RTS games here too, but the funny thing is that it pulls them off pretty well overall. The solos offer a nice risk-reward balance in that you take damage while doing them, but nailing them is worth it, and this may well be one of the few RTS games to actually WORK on a console. Managing your territories is a bit harder since you see the game not from a God's-eye-view but as yourself flying above the land, but the ability to actually get in yourself and fight eases up some of the frustration. It's a little closer to Battlefront than to, say, Starcraft, but again it all works pretty effectively.
Overall "Brutal Legend" makes a few mistakes, but the one thing it does perfectly is create an imaginative, inviting world with a great deal of fidelity of vision. There's a lot here to like, though admittedly those who really DON'T like this style of music or the associations with it-- I mean, REALLY don't like it, as in burning Motorhead albums recreationally-- will find it a harder pill to swallow. But for everyone looking for something new, you owe it to yourself to grab an axe and rock on. And hell, you gotta love a game with "Through the Fire and the Flames" in its soundtrack, right?
Thankfully though, 'monotonous' isn't a word that can be applied to Tim Schafer's approach to video games. Not by a long shot. From his early days at Lucasarts on "Secret of Monkey Island" to the underappreciated "Psychonauts," he's proven himself to be a consummate auteur-- crafting vivid, wholly original worlds in playable form packed with stunning art direction, memorable characters, and genuinely funny writing; he's to gaming what Tim Burton has been to films, in that the end result on screen, while obviously supplemented by a variety of artists and contributors, is ultimately his work, his vision.
And for its occasional flaws and missteps, "Brutal Legend" proves itself a worthy jewel in Schafer's metaphorical crown, in keeping with his trademark style while also competently juggling a handful of different gameplay types.
Most of Schafer's games tend to focus around a specific idea or theme, and here it's Heavy Metal. Now while this may sound like the make-or-break part for most people, part of what makes "Brutal Legend" such an effective game is that it really sells this aspect of itself in such an unabashed, energetic way that it's hard to NOT get swept into it. Personally, not being much into Metal myself, I was surprised to find that it actually provides Schafer quite a bit of creative space, and by embracing the excesses and extremes associated with Metal, he's crafted what is quite easily the most intriguing and compelling open-world yet seen in games, and understand that I don't say that lightly. The world itself here is easily the biggest character on display-- gigantic stone guitars rise proudly from the ground, trees sprout chrome wings, and even the most benign of animals scattered throughout the geography is covered in razor-sharp quills with glowing demonic eyes. It's such a refreshing alternative to generic cityscapes, and the sheer variety really helps it to feel like a living breathing (yet appealingly surreal) world.
Which isn't to say that the characters themselves aren't interesting... far from it. Not only are they all supremely likeable and believeably flawed, but the humor here is less interested in random bullshit than in genuine wit, even more surprising considering it could easily have devolved into an endless string of in-jokey references to Metal culture (which isn't to say those AREN'T here-- after all, Ozzy Osbourne, Lemmy Killmeister and Lita Ford all make appearances-- but it never feels like you're a hanger-on or an intruder in a 'fans-only' atmosphere). Schafer clearly loves the stuff, but he at least loves it enough to make it accessible.
From a gameplay perspective, "Brutal Legend" could be accused of trying to do too much at once, and to an extent it kind of is. There's the third-person action-adventure of course, but there's also bits of rhythm games (in the solos you play to unlock items/summon vehicles/rally troops/literally melt faces) and a LOT of RTS games here too, but the funny thing is that it pulls them off pretty well overall. The solos offer a nice risk-reward balance in that you take damage while doing them, but nailing them is worth it, and this may well be one of the few RTS games to actually WORK on a console. Managing your territories is a bit harder since you see the game not from a God's-eye-view but as yourself flying above the land, but the ability to actually get in yourself and fight eases up some of the frustration. It's a little closer to Battlefront than to, say, Starcraft, but again it all works pretty effectively.
Overall "Brutal Legend" makes a few mistakes, but the one thing it does perfectly is create an imaginative, inviting world with a great deal of fidelity of vision. There's a lot here to like, though admittedly those who really DON'T like this style of music or the associations with it-- I mean, REALLY don't like it, as in burning Motorhead albums recreationally-- will find it a harder pill to swallow. But for everyone looking for something new, you owe it to yourself to grab an axe and rock on. And hell, you gotta love a game with "Through the Fire and the Flames" in its soundtrack, right?
Monday, October 19, 2009
Where The Wild Things Are review
Well, fuck. The first 100% brand-new review I'll be doing here at the Freelancer, and I... well, I really can't think of anything professional to say about Spike Jonze's "Where the Wild Things Are." Or at least, nothing I can say that would presume the air of objective detachment that a critic should have when bringing something up for formal consideration. But then, I suppose something like that's next-to-impossible when dealing with something as profoundly and near-universally central to several generations of children-turned-adults as Maurice Sendak's original book-- this is probably why, say, even the Nostalgia Critic found himself incapable of bile when attempting to tear Sesame Street a new one.
But it's no exaggeration to say that nearly everyone you've met has read this book, had it read to them, or even read it to their own children at some point. And when a movie as closely loved and important as this one gets adapted to film, it's more likely than not to get a lot of flak no matter what it does. Too close to the original, it's lazy. Takes too many liberties, it's not the same thing. Too long, too short, right/wrong actors/music/visuals... there's a lot that can go wrong, and it's nearly impossible to keep everyone happy.
Which is why I'm going to tell you to ignore the legions of critics who've written this off as 'not fun enough/too dark/too involved/too whatever' and go see it. Whatever it's kept from the original, it's become a remarkably intelligent, surprisingly tender meditation on childhood and growing up itself, which in some ways might be closer to Maurice Sendak's book than you might be inclined to think.
A surprising majority of critics have complained that "Where the Wild Things Are" isn't 'as fun as the book,' but considering author Sendak described it as a kind of 'personal exorcism', a way of dealing with a lot of things in his childhood, perhaps it was never SUPPOSED to be just a lighthearted romp. I mean, that's certainly present in the film for a large majority of it, but the psychological underpinnings of the story are really brought front-and-center here, in such a way that the Wild Things themselves definitely have more personality, but said personalities are considerably more sobering (and at times, downright frightening) than you might expect, but in some ways it wouldn't work as well otherwise.
As much as there is going on here in terms of action, there's even more bubbling psychologically under the surface, and "Wild Things" is surprisingly keen on mining and examining this aspect of the original work, especially considering it's ostensibly a children's fantasy film. Max here becomes a clearly isolated individual gnawed at by the increasing awareness of his own vanishing childhood, and the Wild Things are-- for all intents and purposes-- really just gigantic monstrous children, with all the insecurities, sudden mood swings and anarchic energy that implies. But for all its thrilling sequences and shifts into darker (but subdued) contemplation, there's something very genuine and heartfelt about it... indeed, something few films period ever manage to achieve.
"Where the Wild Things Are" is the rare children's film that treats its audience with respect, that doesn't dumb things down but rather makes the rare decision to challenge instead. Of course, if that sort of thing isn't for you, don't worry-- I'm sure the Jim Carrey version of "Grinch" is readily available at your nearest Blockbuster.
But it's no exaggeration to say that nearly everyone you've met has read this book, had it read to them, or even read it to their own children at some point. And when a movie as closely loved and important as this one gets adapted to film, it's more likely than not to get a lot of flak no matter what it does. Too close to the original, it's lazy. Takes too many liberties, it's not the same thing. Too long, too short, right/wrong actors/music/visuals... there's a lot that can go wrong, and it's nearly impossible to keep everyone happy.
Which is why I'm going to tell you to ignore the legions of critics who've written this off as 'not fun enough/too dark/too involved/too whatever' and go see it. Whatever it's kept from the original, it's become a remarkably intelligent, surprisingly tender meditation on childhood and growing up itself, which in some ways might be closer to Maurice Sendak's book than you might be inclined to think.
A surprising majority of critics have complained that "Where the Wild Things Are" isn't 'as fun as the book,' but considering author Sendak described it as a kind of 'personal exorcism', a way of dealing with a lot of things in his childhood, perhaps it was never SUPPOSED to be just a lighthearted romp. I mean, that's certainly present in the film for a large majority of it, but the psychological underpinnings of the story are really brought front-and-center here, in such a way that the Wild Things themselves definitely have more personality, but said personalities are considerably more sobering (and at times, downright frightening) than you might expect, but in some ways it wouldn't work as well otherwise.
As much as there is going on here in terms of action, there's even more bubbling psychologically under the surface, and "Wild Things" is surprisingly keen on mining and examining this aspect of the original work, especially considering it's ostensibly a children's fantasy film. Max here becomes a clearly isolated individual gnawed at by the increasing awareness of his own vanishing childhood, and the Wild Things are-- for all intents and purposes-- really just gigantic monstrous children, with all the insecurities, sudden mood swings and anarchic energy that implies. But for all its thrilling sequences and shifts into darker (but subdued) contemplation, there's something very genuine and heartfelt about it... indeed, something few films period ever manage to achieve.
"Where the Wild Things Are" is the rare children's film that treats its audience with respect, that doesn't dumb things down but rather makes the rare decision to challenge instead. Of course, if that sort of thing isn't for you, don't worry-- I'm sure the Jim Carrey version of "Grinch" is readily available at your nearest Blockbuster.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Final Fantasy: Dissidia review
Well then, now that I've given you an idea of what my reviews tend to consist of, let's get right into the newer stuff.
So, kids, let's talk about Dissidia. Not too much though, since it'll just make me angry, like "Valkyria Chronicles" did, although my concern here is less with bullshit difficulty curves and asinine lifeless characters as it is with uninteresting characters and a design philosophy I can best describe as personally offensive.
Let's back up a bit though. As a GAME itself, it's alright; graphics are fine, controls are adequate, combat is pretty fun, though largely kind of random and the challenge oftentimes becomes less about fighting an opponent who's BETTER than you than about CATCHING said opponent because they always fly all the way to the other fucking end of the field and the only thing keeping the fight going is their own cowardice. The voice actors, each of whom never variates from their character's set tone, are all pretty much phoning it in (Cloud's VA-- with his obnoxious tendency to pause after every third word for no adequate reason and which makes it seem like he's got a piece of shrapnel lodged in his head) and you don't get enough different attacks, but those aren't so bad when you consider this is probably the first fighting game to utilize RPG touches (occasionally annoying and unnecessary as they may be) in an effective way.
No, my problem with Dissidia stems mostly from an issue I have with most fighters in general that's really just kind of emphasized here-- the female roster, or really, the lack thereof. And a large part of this stems from the fact that apparently the developers of Dissidia were under the impression that a story mattered. In a Super Smash Bros. style character mash-up. Where everyone is just going to be either punishing Tidus for existing or re-enacting Advent Children's climax.
There isn't even much of one of those, really; basically there are 10 heroes from each of the final fantasy games and their corresponding villains, and the heroes' individual storylines involve looking for various interpretations of 'crystals' while retreading thematic ground already covered in their respective games ANYWAY, but don't worry-- it still feels less like actual character development and more like the game sitting you on its knee and preaching Sesame Street morals to you in a condescending voice while occasionally letting you play it. You're still fighting the same boss character for each game's protagonist at the end (and yes, I know about Jecht so shut up). Following this pattern though, I suppose it makes sense that Terra (representing FFIV) is the only female on the good guys side, but when you consider how fucking little is actually DONE with the whole multiple-worlds-fighting-a-heavenly-civil-war conceit, it becomes less and less acceptable.
Other than a few rare occasions you don't even get to actually fight people from different games in the context of the story, and all the villains are pretty much following their own agendas anyway it raises the question of what the whole point is. Christ, even when Super Smash Bros. decided it needed a narrative and thrust an entirely inane and completely nonsensical one down our throats in Brawl, at least you got to see some crazy fan-wank stuff like Mario beating up Kirby or nameless Pokemon Trainer fighting Link. Sure, there's some interaction between the Dissidia mains as a throwaway to the fangirls and to justify about a billion crossover fanfics, but that's really about it. If Dissidia was really more about being a fun fanservice game then about trying adorably to tie a sense of cohesiveness out of this whole mess, then maybe I'd have nothing to say, and honestly that's how I'd prefer it. But they didn't, so here we are.
The breaking point between me and Dissidia came slightly after I found out that in addition to a fairly ineffectual good side female and two decidedly more capable evil ones, there was another, secret female character and male character, each taken from Final Fantasy XI and XII respectively. What I didn't know was that the XII character was Gabranth-- yet another androgynous angst-ridden hot guy in armor, while the one from XI was a Moogle.
Let me get this straight. This is a series WITH NO SHORTAGE OF WOMEN WHO WOULD FIT PERFECTLY INTO A FIGHTING GAME, AND THE BEST THEY COULD COME UP WITH FOR THEIR UNLOCKABLE SECRET CHARACTER WAS A FUCKING MIDGET FURRY FROM A GAME THAT NO ONE GAVE A SHIT ABOUT? Fuck you Squeenix and fuck your pandering illogical bullshit.
I mean, seriously, what the hell? The Final Fantasy series has featured a huge variety of women-- warrior queens! Mother figures who fight with stun gloves! Overrated bitches who are only loved because they were killed too soon to be hated! Airship admirals! Why couldn't any of THEM made the final cut-- I mean, other than that they aren't dudes and the fandom would throw a hissy fit if they missed ONE of the many indistinguishable monotone pricks who needs to learn the importance of friendship? And since FFXI is a fucking MMO and thus not really a 'proper' Final Fantasy game ANYWAY, why couldn't it have featured two XII characters... like say, Ashe and Gabranth, which would fit the game's established 'one-hero-one-villain-per-game' format?
Oh wait, even though Ashe is one of the most complex and genuinely human characters in the games PERIOD, she walks around in a miniskirt or something, which instantly justifies the fandom's groundless near-unanimous hatred of her and makes her a bitch! Silly me, how could I forget? Or because she's the only main in series history with an actual goals sheet that doesn't involve DO IT WITH THE MALE LEAD, I forget.
The point is, I could get this sort of thing with Nintendo's SSB series, which really doesn't have that many female characters to begin with, but Square Enix? You don't HAVE that problem. And I understand that you're trying to pander to the most vocal majority of your fandom, but really, not EVERYONE hates the FF ladies. I suppose they could eventually correct this through DLC characters or --more likely-- rereleasing the game a year or so later with more characters tossed in and no fundamental gameplay alterations, but they won't get any points from me for it (not to say that the rantings of what is clearly the minority here count for much with a big company like that anyway).
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to Guilty Gear, which at least has a more balanced roster... and better gameplay.
So, kids, let's talk about Dissidia. Not too much though, since it'll just make me angry, like "Valkyria Chronicles" did, although my concern here is less with bullshit difficulty curves and asinine lifeless characters as it is with uninteresting characters and a design philosophy I can best describe as personally offensive.
Let's back up a bit though. As a GAME itself, it's alright; graphics are fine, controls are adequate, combat is pretty fun, though largely kind of random and the challenge oftentimes becomes less about fighting an opponent who's BETTER than you than about CATCHING said opponent because they always fly all the way to the other fucking end of the field and the only thing keeping the fight going is their own cowardice. The voice actors, each of whom never variates from their character's set tone, are all pretty much phoning it in (Cloud's VA-- with his obnoxious tendency to pause after every third word for no adequate reason and which makes it seem like he's got a piece of shrapnel lodged in his head) and you don't get enough different attacks, but those aren't so bad when you consider this is probably the first fighting game to utilize RPG touches (occasionally annoying and unnecessary as they may be) in an effective way.
No, my problem with Dissidia stems mostly from an issue I have with most fighters in general that's really just kind of emphasized here-- the female roster, or really, the lack thereof. And a large part of this stems from the fact that apparently the developers of Dissidia were under the impression that a story mattered. In a Super Smash Bros. style character mash-up. Where everyone is just going to be either punishing Tidus for existing or re-enacting Advent Children's climax.
There isn't even much of one of those, really; basically there are 10 heroes from each of the final fantasy games and their corresponding villains, and the heroes' individual storylines involve looking for various interpretations of 'crystals' while retreading thematic ground already covered in their respective games ANYWAY, but don't worry-- it still feels less like actual character development and more like the game sitting you on its knee and preaching Sesame Street morals to you in a condescending voice while occasionally letting you play it. You're still fighting the same boss character for each game's protagonist at the end (and yes, I know about Jecht so shut up). Following this pattern though, I suppose it makes sense that Terra (representing FFIV) is the only female on the good guys side, but when you consider how fucking little is actually DONE with the whole multiple-worlds-fighting-a-heavenly-civil-war conceit, it becomes less and less acceptable.
Other than a few rare occasions you don't even get to actually fight people from different games in the context of the story, and all the villains are pretty much following their own agendas anyway it raises the question of what the whole point is. Christ, even when Super Smash Bros. decided it needed a narrative and thrust an entirely inane and completely nonsensical one down our throats in Brawl, at least you got to see some crazy fan-wank stuff like Mario beating up Kirby or nameless Pokemon Trainer fighting Link. Sure, there's some interaction between the Dissidia mains as a throwaway to the fangirls and to justify about a billion crossover fanfics, but that's really about it. If Dissidia was really more about being a fun fanservice game then about trying adorably to tie a sense of cohesiveness out of this whole mess, then maybe I'd have nothing to say, and honestly that's how I'd prefer it. But they didn't, so here we are.
The breaking point between me and Dissidia came slightly after I found out that in addition to a fairly ineffectual good side female and two decidedly more capable evil ones, there was another, secret female character and male character, each taken from Final Fantasy XI and XII respectively. What I didn't know was that the XII character was Gabranth-- yet another androgynous angst-ridden hot guy in armor, while the one from XI was a Moogle.
Let me get this straight. This is a series WITH NO SHORTAGE OF WOMEN WHO WOULD FIT PERFECTLY INTO A FIGHTING GAME, AND THE BEST THEY COULD COME UP WITH FOR THEIR UNLOCKABLE SECRET CHARACTER WAS A FUCKING MIDGET FURRY FROM A GAME THAT NO ONE GAVE A SHIT ABOUT? Fuck you Squeenix and fuck your pandering illogical bullshit.
I mean, seriously, what the hell? The Final Fantasy series has featured a huge variety of women-- warrior queens! Mother figures who fight with stun gloves! Overrated bitches who are only loved because they were killed too soon to be hated! Airship admirals! Why couldn't any of THEM made the final cut-- I mean, other than that they aren't dudes and the fandom would throw a hissy fit if they missed ONE of the many indistinguishable monotone pricks who needs to learn the importance of friendship? And since FFXI is a fucking MMO and thus not really a 'proper' Final Fantasy game ANYWAY, why couldn't it have featured two XII characters... like say, Ashe and Gabranth, which would fit the game's established 'one-hero-one-villain-per-game' format?
Oh wait, even though Ashe is one of the most complex and genuinely human characters in the games PERIOD, she walks around in a miniskirt or something, which instantly justifies the fandom's groundless near-unanimous hatred of her and makes her a bitch! Silly me, how could I forget? Or because she's the only main in series history with an actual goals sheet that doesn't involve DO IT WITH THE MALE LEAD, I forget.
The point is, I could get this sort of thing with Nintendo's SSB series, which really doesn't have that many female characters to begin with, but Square Enix? You don't HAVE that problem. And I understand that you're trying to pander to the most vocal majority of your fandom, but really, not EVERYONE hates the FF ladies. I suppose they could eventually correct this through DLC characters or --more likely-- rereleasing the game a year or so later with more characters tossed in and no fundamental gameplay alterations, but they won't get any points from me for it (not to say that the rantings of what is clearly the minority here count for much with a big company like that anyway).
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to Guilty Gear, which at least has a more balanced roster... and better gameplay.
Backlog-- Persona 4 review (writing sample 3 of 3)
I'm going to start out by being completely honest here-- as a game, "Persona 4" is a failure. While there's still gameplay to be had by way of its RPG trappings and the degree of strategic thinking involved therewith, you spend a lot less time PLAYING it as opposed to watching it. It's extremely cutscene-heavy, and the most you'll ever do in terms of interactivity is move your eyebrowless avatar around and/or savor all the thrills of navigating a long series of drop-down menus.
So why then, is "Persona 4" so genuinely satisfying and enjoyable?
To answer that question, a little introspection may be required. If gameplay is your personal 'oh factor' for a purchase, then look elsewhere. If an intriguing story, refreshing art direction, richly developed characters and a unique approach to a tired genre are more important to you, then you really can't do much better. In some ways, it's closer to an interactive shojo anime than a game (or even to the adventure games that were once king in the old PC days), investing more in characterization and relationships than the combat aspect itself, and thanks to the unique medium of gaming, there's the time and pacing to develop these things better than its fully-animated TV counterparts.
Firstly, it's unique even in its basic premise-- instead of being set in yet another generic fantasy world (or in Final Fantasy's case, a world somewhere between Middle-Earth and Star Wars) with another generic wide-eyed or angst-ridden wannabe hero, it's set in modern-day rural Japan, and your protagonist is a silent but average high-schooler tragically born without a personality though irresistible to all the women around him (a HUGE leap from any given anime to ever exist, I know, har har). Together with a cadre of other teenagers who discover that they have the ability to wield Pokemon/Gundam hybrids called 'Personas,' you end up searching for a killer who's targeting people that appear on the mysterious Midnight Channel because adults suck and the police are incompetent, and as you go to save people you end up in bizarre worlds comprised of their deepest psychological fears and insecurities.
The end result is a bizarre fusion of "Silent Hill," Scooby-Doo" and just a dash of "Psychonauts," and surprisingly it works. Like the latter there's plenty of humor to be had, balancing out an increasingly sinister tone with some laugh-out-loud moments and while it occasionally leans on the wacky, it never goes full-on into the schizophrenic tone-breaking bullshit that plagues series like "Bleach." Unlike its predecessor, which involved a LOT of grinding the same massive dungeon with little difference between floors save the occasional color swap, the smaller dungeons of "Persona 4" offer a considerable degree of variety, ranging from steamy bath houses to 8-bit video game fortresses (complete with repetitive MIDI music), and the enemies themselves are refreshingly different too-- you'll fight everything from moving hands to sentient willow trees in kimono and even walking Lilliputian castles.
And while every JRPG and their mother feels it necessary to wax pretentious about the old standbys of love, destiny, vengeance and the like, the things "Persona 4" meditates on are considerably more interesting and challenging-- like sexuality, gender identity and outright nihilism-- and thankfully it seems content to pose these questions without offering any easy answers, or even letting them go entirely resolved.
But as interesting as the narrative itself is, the real draw of "Persona 4" is the characters. All the mains are remarkably believable and likeable, never coming off as stereotypes but as fully realized personalities with their own foibles and quirks. Even the incredibly minor characters, the ones that aren't even really involved with what's going on but you can talk to when running around town, are distinct. And they should be, since building relationships with the others who populate this fictional universe (through Social Links) actually forms the backbone of how you can create even stronger, more balanced Personas to fill your ranks with, or to make the ones for your team grow and change. Other than a few of these S.Links, you're free to get close to whoever you want and learn more about them, and the development of each character in their own unique ways provides a satisfaction and depth that you simply CAN'T get from the constraints of a half-hour anime. Even though your character has no personality, like Gordon Freeman he's merely a device to allow you to feel as if YOU are the one getting to know everyone else, and in this way utilizing a video game format really attaches you to the characters and to their trials.
Overall, "Persona 4" succeeds because it takes risks, abandoning the conventional and the familiar for something truly unique and special. And while there are many games that will readily sacrifice story for gameplay and the perfect balance between the two is very difficult to attain, it's really nice to see a game that makes the opposite decision and sacrifices gameplay freedom for storytelling. It's quite simply the best of its kind and great example of the potential of the JRPG.
So why then, is "Persona 4" so genuinely satisfying and enjoyable?
To answer that question, a little introspection may be required. If gameplay is your personal 'oh factor' for a purchase, then look elsewhere. If an intriguing story, refreshing art direction, richly developed characters and a unique approach to a tired genre are more important to you, then you really can't do much better. In some ways, it's closer to an interactive shojo anime than a game (or even to the adventure games that were once king in the old PC days), investing more in characterization and relationships than the combat aspect itself, and thanks to the unique medium of gaming, there's the time and pacing to develop these things better than its fully-animated TV counterparts.
Firstly, it's unique even in its basic premise-- instead of being set in yet another generic fantasy world (or in Final Fantasy's case, a world somewhere between Middle-Earth and Star Wars) with another generic wide-eyed or angst-ridden wannabe hero, it's set in modern-day rural Japan, and your protagonist is a silent but average high-schooler tragically born without a personality though irresistible to all the women around him (a HUGE leap from any given anime to ever exist, I know, har har). Together with a cadre of other teenagers who discover that they have the ability to wield Pokemon/Gundam hybrids called 'Personas,' you end up searching for a killer who's targeting people that appear on the mysterious Midnight Channel because adults suck and the police are incompetent, and as you go to save people you end up in bizarre worlds comprised of their deepest psychological fears and insecurities.
The end result is a bizarre fusion of "Silent Hill," Scooby-Doo" and just a dash of "Psychonauts," and surprisingly it works. Like the latter there's plenty of humor to be had, balancing out an increasingly sinister tone with some laugh-out-loud moments and while it occasionally leans on the wacky, it never goes full-on into the schizophrenic tone-breaking bullshit that plagues series like "Bleach." Unlike its predecessor, which involved a LOT of grinding the same massive dungeon with little difference between floors save the occasional color swap, the smaller dungeons of "Persona 4" offer a considerable degree of variety, ranging from steamy bath houses to 8-bit video game fortresses (complete with repetitive MIDI music), and the enemies themselves are refreshingly different too-- you'll fight everything from moving hands to sentient willow trees in kimono and even walking Lilliputian castles.
And while every JRPG and their mother feels it necessary to wax pretentious about the old standbys of love, destiny, vengeance and the like, the things "Persona 4" meditates on are considerably more interesting and challenging-- like sexuality, gender identity and outright nihilism-- and thankfully it seems content to pose these questions without offering any easy answers, or even letting them go entirely resolved.
But as interesting as the narrative itself is, the real draw of "Persona 4" is the characters. All the mains are remarkably believable and likeable, never coming off as stereotypes but as fully realized personalities with their own foibles and quirks. Even the incredibly minor characters, the ones that aren't even really involved with what's going on but you can talk to when running around town, are distinct. And they should be, since building relationships with the others who populate this fictional universe (through Social Links) actually forms the backbone of how you can create even stronger, more balanced Personas to fill your ranks with, or to make the ones for your team grow and change. Other than a few of these S.Links, you're free to get close to whoever you want and learn more about them, and the development of each character in their own unique ways provides a satisfaction and depth that you simply CAN'T get from the constraints of a half-hour anime. Even though your character has no personality, like Gordon Freeman he's merely a device to allow you to feel as if YOU are the one getting to know everyone else, and in this way utilizing a video game format really attaches you to the characters and to their trials.
Overall, "Persona 4" succeeds because it takes risks, abandoning the conventional and the familiar for something truly unique and special. And while there are many games that will readily sacrifice story for gameplay and the perfect balance between the two is very difficult to attain, it's really nice to see a game that makes the opposite decision and sacrifices gameplay freedom for storytelling. It's quite simply the best of its kind and great example of the potential of the JRPG.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Backlog-- Higurashi review (writing sample 2 of 3)
Based on a popular series of visual novels for the PS2 in Japan, "Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni" is actually a surprisingly well-done anime. It's well characterized, intensely atmospheric, nicely paced, and shows a remarkable understanding of the execution of psychological horror. Yet for what it does right, there are a few things that dampened my enthusiasm for it, but weren't enough to make me push it away in favor of something else.
Too often an anime can't decide on a tone, switching randomly from cheery, goofy humor to grim seriousness, and this is present in "Higurashi" to an extent. But here such drastic shifts actually add to the overall effect as we see events involving the same set of characters in the same town go from bright and happy to hell in a handbasket over and over again, and there's almost an element of parody to seeing such aggressively cutesy-moe characters perform/get involved with acts of unspeakable evil (and in some cases, enjoy them to a degree that would make Heath Ledger's Joker squirm uncomfortably in his seat). It's kind of like watching an episode of Sesame Street turn into a trip to Silent Hill.
But this is part of what makes the first season (episodes 1-26) so damn fantastic-- the seemingly-unrelated arcs are all very nicely written, leaving the viewer to try and figure things out for themselves and keeping explanation rather limited; the violence is rather toned down (or at least compared to shows like "Elfen Lied" or manga like "Battle Royale"), but no less effective because the animators understand that teasing and suggestion and sound effects-- all the classic techniques of horror, even going back to "Psycho"-- can leave a bigger impression than simply watching someone get their head smashed in with a bat; the dramatic tension is masterfully built and sustained, and watching different characters-- all generally decent individuals-- slowly come unhinged for a variety of reasons is engrossing and, more importantly, believable. There is something oddly compelling about seeing things change but utimately go wrong again over the same two weeks, like a twisted take on "Groundhog Day," and the concept of being toyed with by some vague force beyond human control or understanding touches on something quintessential in horror, the fear of the unknown, quite well.
In all honesty, "Higurashi" is at its best-- at the most mysterious, most disturbing-- when focused on the Hotel California-esque nature of the town of Hinamizawa, the possible curses of ancient gods, the twisting, well-developed mysteries, the unexpected reactions of children to extreme stress and emotional pressure. The second season, "Higurashi Kai," instead decides to go in a different direction.
This season is entirely devoted to explaining EVERYTHING and bringing us a nice conclusion while setting up for another season. While this is done fairly well, it still takes away part of what made Higurashi so damn interesting, of being able to draw up one's own conclusions without having a somewhat "resident Evil 4" canon shoved down your throat.
To be fair, "Higurashi Kai" is still enjoyable-- we get an unexpected but excellently developed antagonist, and a seemingly minor character gets an important expansion-- but this is balanced out by, again, taking away the mystery and by bringing in a shamelessly, helplessly-moe character (while characters like Rika and Satoko balance this out by being competent and well-developed, this new character is literally standing around, looking helpless and whimpering half the time). Hell, "Kai" almost turns into a cookie-cutter anime entirely as we see the good old tropes like Big Faceless Corporations and Mystical Powers play such a big part. But by then, you're invested enough in the characters and their struggle that you want to know what happens anyway, so I guess it cancels out.
Speaking of the characters, while the ultra-loli designs lead me to believe that the original creator has a serious fetish (come on, the adults all look fine-- the kids could stand to look just a bit less creepy), they all manage to be likeable and sympathetic in their own way; even protagonist Keiichi went through periods where I really liked him (rallying the town together to save someone from domestic abuse), and times where I wished he wasn't there (threatening kids to let you win a card game? REALLY? :/). Even other characters who only appear for a little bit or who have incidental parts are interesting and at least feel three-dimensional rather than just vehicles for exposition.
In the end, "Higurashi" was a pleasant, dark surprise, with enough wacky humor and cringe-inducing violence to satisfy a wide range of tastes. And as much as I did enjoy it, I'm hoping that after this upcoming season it comes to an end. No matter what form of media it is, the worst thing a good series can do is not know when to stop.
Too often an anime can't decide on a tone, switching randomly from cheery, goofy humor to grim seriousness, and this is present in "Higurashi" to an extent. But here such drastic shifts actually add to the overall effect as we see events involving the same set of characters in the same town go from bright and happy to hell in a handbasket over and over again, and there's almost an element of parody to seeing such aggressively cutesy-moe characters perform/get involved with acts of unspeakable evil (and in some cases, enjoy them to a degree that would make Heath Ledger's Joker squirm uncomfortably in his seat). It's kind of like watching an episode of Sesame Street turn into a trip to Silent Hill.
But this is part of what makes the first season (episodes 1-26) so damn fantastic-- the seemingly-unrelated arcs are all very nicely written, leaving the viewer to try and figure things out for themselves and keeping explanation rather limited; the violence is rather toned down (or at least compared to shows like "Elfen Lied" or manga like "Battle Royale"), but no less effective because the animators understand that teasing and suggestion and sound effects-- all the classic techniques of horror, even going back to "Psycho"-- can leave a bigger impression than simply watching someone get their head smashed in with a bat; the dramatic tension is masterfully built and sustained, and watching different characters-- all generally decent individuals-- slowly come unhinged for a variety of reasons is engrossing and, more importantly, believable. There is something oddly compelling about seeing things change but utimately go wrong again over the same two weeks, like a twisted take on "Groundhog Day," and the concept of being toyed with by some vague force beyond human control or understanding touches on something quintessential in horror, the fear of the unknown, quite well.
In all honesty, "Higurashi" is at its best-- at the most mysterious, most disturbing-- when focused on the Hotel California-esque nature of the town of Hinamizawa, the possible curses of ancient gods, the twisting, well-developed mysteries, the unexpected reactions of children to extreme stress and emotional pressure. The second season, "Higurashi Kai," instead decides to go in a different direction.
This season is entirely devoted to explaining EVERYTHING and bringing us a nice conclusion while setting up for another season. While this is done fairly well, it still takes away part of what made Higurashi so damn interesting, of being able to draw up one's own conclusions without having a somewhat "resident Evil 4" canon shoved down your throat.
To be fair, "Higurashi Kai" is still enjoyable-- we get an unexpected but excellently developed antagonist, and a seemingly minor character gets an important expansion-- but this is balanced out by, again, taking away the mystery and by bringing in a shamelessly, helplessly-moe character (while characters like Rika and Satoko balance this out by being competent and well-developed, this new character is literally standing around, looking helpless and whimpering half the time). Hell, "Kai" almost turns into a cookie-cutter anime entirely as we see the good old tropes like Big Faceless Corporations and Mystical Powers play such a big part. But by then, you're invested enough in the characters and their struggle that you want to know what happens anyway, so I guess it cancels out.
Speaking of the characters, while the ultra-loli designs lead me to believe that the original creator has a serious fetish (come on, the adults all look fine-- the kids could stand to look just a bit less creepy), they all manage to be likeable and sympathetic in their own way; even protagonist Keiichi went through periods where I really liked him (rallying the town together to save someone from domestic abuse), and times where I wished he wasn't there (threatening kids to let you win a card game? REALLY? :/). Even other characters who only appear for a little bit or who have incidental parts are interesting and at least feel three-dimensional rather than just vehicles for exposition.
In the end, "Higurashi" was a pleasant, dark surprise, with enough wacky humor and cringe-inducing violence to satisfy a wide range of tastes. And as much as I did enjoy it, I'm hoping that after this upcoming season it comes to an end. No matter what form of media it is, the worst thing a good series can do is not know when to stop.
Backlog-- Watchmen Review (writing sample 1 of 3)
Let me start off by saying that, like many people who will see this movie on opening weekend, I went in with a love for the graphic novel and as such had an understanding that reasonably has influenced how I received it. That said, I've made an effort-- partly because of this fact-- to be as objective as possible in this review, to try and view Zack Snyder's adaptation for what it is rather than what the fan community as a whole would want it to be. But since it could have been directed by Ridley Scott and written by Roman Polanski and people STILL would have found something to bitch about because of how deeply loved and analyzed this book has been over the last quarter-century, individual opinions will of course vary.
Okay, cards on the table time: in the end, Snyder's "Watchmen" has not usurped the graphic novel. It's still as essential, intelligent and heartbreaking as it ever was, and reading it will always be a much richer experience. What Snyder HAS done, however, is to create an action film adaptation, but the kicker is that it's that rare action film that manages to be both entertaining and smart in equal parts, bolstered by top-notch art direction and generally solid casting. It retains the heart and weight of the original while creating something generally accessible to the uninitiated and does it all in just shy of 3 hours, a feat in itself considering the raw density of information that has to be filtered through.
Speaking of which, considering just HOW much had to be cut, it still feels remarkably complete and focused. Everything is edited together excellently, and from a purely technical persepective "Watchmen" is practically flawless. Despite so many details being ripped straight from the panels of the comic there's nothing really cartoony about the sets or the little touches or the muted color palatte that imitates rather nicely the scheme of Moore and Gibbon's art style. This alternate New York City feels intriguing and alien, yet still believable enough that it could well have been our own.
For the most part, I have nothing but good things to say about the cast itself. From Patrick Wilson's excellent portrayal of Dan Dreiberg to Billy Crudup's gentle-voiced, remote Dr. Manhattan and Rorshach (absolutely NAILED by Jackie Earle Haley), there's some great performances here, and the actors seem intent on evoking the humanity of the characters and bringing it across without overacting. Malin Ackerman, while still a very good Laurie, seems a little bit more (is 'docile' the right word?) calm than she was in the novel, where she was a fascinating bundle of insecurities and vague resentments, and Matthew Goode doesn't quite have the charm and quiet charisma that made Adrian Veidt such a fascinating character. He kind of just comes off as a creep, not to say that he wasn't in the original but at least he was an empathetic creep.
In fact, my only real issues with the film are admittedly minor, and partly only exist BECAUSE I was familiar with the graphic novel first. In the interest of making it a little more commerical (and because, if "300" was any indication, Snyder's into that stuff), the sex and violence has been considerably ramped up (though fortunately Snyder manages to keep the speed-ramping of his previous film to a minimum). This isn't to say that "Watchmen" didn't have those elements in it already (it certainly did), but whereas Moore and Gibbons knew when to insinuate and use less overtly violent but no less haunting imagery, Snyder revels in it, opting for much bloodier, gorier solutions to familiar situations. And other than an extended sex scene that ends up being unintentionally giggle-inducing, this stuff doesn't really drag the film down. And speaking of changes, the ending is considerably different than in the novel, though to its credit it's a bit better established throughout the course of the film and it still retains the moral ambiguity and unsettling qualities that made the original ending as effective as it was.
Ultimately, "Watchmen" isn't perfect. But for all its minor faults, it's still one of the best and most visually unique superhero films of all time, and manages to stand well enough on its own merits. Hell, once I'm done writing this I'm going to see it again, and that's pretty unprecedented. Go see it yourself, then go read the graphic novel. Either way, you'll definitely be entertained.
Okay, cards on the table time: in the end, Snyder's "Watchmen" has not usurped the graphic novel. It's still as essential, intelligent and heartbreaking as it ever was, and reading it will always be a much richer experience. What Snyder HAS done, however, is to create an action film adaptation, but the kicker is that it's that rare action film that manages to be both entertaining and smart in equal parts, bolstered by top-notch art direction and generally solid casting. It retains the heart and weight of the original while creating something generally accessible to the uninitiated and does it all in just shy of 3 hours, a feat in itself considering the raw density of information that has to be filtered through.
Speaking of which, considering just HOW much had to be cut, it still feels remarkably complete and focused. Everything is edited together excellently, and from a purely technical persepective "Watchmen" is practically flawless. Despite so many details being ripped straight from the panels of the comic there's nothing really cartoony about the sets or the little touches or the muted color palatte that imitates rather nicely the scheme of Moore and Gibbon's art style. This alternate New York City feels intriguing and alien, yet still believable enough that it could well have been our own.
For the most part, I have nothing but good things to say about the cast itself. From Patrick Wilson's excellent portrayal of Dan Dreiberg to Billy Crudup's gentle-voiced, remote Dr. Manhattan and Rorshach (absolutely NAILED by Jackie Earle Haley), there's some great performances here, and the actors seem intent on evoking the humanity of the characters and bringing it across without overacting. Malin Ackerman, while still a very good Laurie, seems a little bit more (is 'docile' the right word?) calm than she was in the novel, where she was a fascinating bundle of insecurities and vague resentments, and Matthew Goode doesn't quite have the charm and quiet charisma that made Adrian Veidt such a fascinating character. He kind of just comes off as a creep, not to say that he wasn't in the original but at least he was an empathetic creep.
In fact, my only real issues with the film are admittedly minor, and partly only exist BECAUSE I was familiar with the graphic novel first. In the interest of making it a little more commerical (and because, if "300" was any indication, Snyder's into that stuff), the sex and violence has been considerably ramped up (though fortunately Snyder manages to keep the speed-ramping of his previous film to a minimum). This isn't to say that "Watchmen" didn't have those elements in it already (it certainly did), but whereas Moore and Gibbons knew when to insinuate and use less overtly violent but no less haunting imagery, Snyder revels in it, opting for much bloodier, gorier solutions to familiar situations. And other than an extended sex scene that ends up being unintentionally giggle-inducing, this stuff doesn't really drag the film down. And speaking of changes, the ending is considerably different than in the novel, though to its credit it's a bit better established throughout the course of the film and it still retains the moral ambiguity and unsettling qualities that made the original ending as effective as it was.
Ultimately, "Watchmen" isn't perfect. But for all its minor faults, it's still one of the best and most visually unique superhero films of all time, and manages to stand well enough on its own merits. Hell, once I'm done writing this I'm going to see it again, and that's pretty unprecedented. Go see it yourself, then go read the graphic novel. Either way, you'll definitely be entertained.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Greetings from Bebop~
Well. Since you've found yourself here (through accidental hit or a Google word search gone horribly awry) and you're interested enough to at least read this, I suppose I should start off with an explanation. Or rather, an introduction.
I'm Bebop, and like most people on the internet, I have an opinion. Not about relevant or important things like politics or the economy or something of that nature, but about little things. Things like movies and video games and, sometimes, anime and manga (though this admittedly I tend to stay wary of-- let's just say that 2 years in an anime club is actually surprisingly detrimental to blase acceptance of what charitably passes for 'entertainment' on Adult Swim Saturday Nights). But mostly video games and movies.
Now I know what you're thinking, and you're right-- "wow, a self-appointed film/video game critic on the 'net, never seen that before." It's true, I'm not exactly going for a niche demographic here, nor am I exactly the only game in town. So why am I bothering to go through all this trouble?
Mostly, I'm doing it to get my thoughts out there. This is more an exercise in self-indulgence than in trying to change minds or win supporters; I'm doing this because writing matters to me, and I think that being able to do just that-- to sit down and point out what you like and don't like-- is what really matters. Critics may get lauded or ignored, but the act of criticism itself is what's important. Films I'm pretty much open about (though I bear a perpetual soft-spot for animation, so expect me to go over that to some degree whenever a big release comes out)-- it's video games and manga/anime that I'm more careful about.
Though I grew up in a Nintendo household, don't expect any coddling for them from me. Or of Microsoft of Sony or even Sega, for that matter, because since I started actually making my own money and my gaming options were no longer limited just to what my parents deigned to give me come Christmas, I've basically had no console allegiances to speak of. If it looks good, if it looks interesting, if it's trying something unique and special, if it's another piece of proof that video games are no longer just escapism but another valid artistic medium-- odds are I'm going to play it regardless of system. Whether I have the funds on hand at the time to actually play it is another matter entirely.
Anime and manga... well, again let's just say I'm very very very VERY picky and even more critical, but that doesn't mean I don't like it-- just that I'm holding it up to higher scrutiny or expecting more from it than what normally is deemed 'popular' enough to sate the otaku population. Just don't mention Bleach around these here parts.
Anyway, I'll start out by posting up some of my older reviews (or at least linking them from my LJ, I suppose), in order to give a taste of my writing style and for archival purposes, then just posting here directly for all future releases. Thoughts range from pseudo-scholarly to incoherent ranting and back at random, so keep an eye out.
Not expecting anyone to keep up with this, but if you decide you like the cut of my proverbial jib, feel free to stick around.
I'm Bebop, and like most people on the internet, I have an opinion. Not about relevant or important things like politics or the economy or something of that nature, but about little things. Things like movies and video games and, sometimes, anime and manga (though this admittedly I tend to stay wary of-- let's just say that 2 years in an anime club is actually surprisingly detrimental to blase acceptance of what charitably passes for 'entertainment' on Adult Swim Saturday Nights). But mostly video games and movies.
Now I know what you're thinking, and you're right-- "wow, a self-appointed film/video game critic on the 'net, never seen that before." It's true, I'm not exactly going for a niche demographic here, nor am I exactly the only game in town. So why am I bothering to go through all this trouble?
Mostly, I'm doing it to get my thoughts out there. This is more an exercise in self-indulgence than in trying to change minds or win supporters; I'm doing this because writing matters to me, and I think that being able to do just that-- to sit down and point out what you like and don't like-- is what really matters. Critics may get lauded or ignored, but the act of criticism itself is what's important. Films I'm pretty much open about (though I bear a perpetual soft-spot for animation, so expect me to go over that to some degree whenever a big release comes out)-- it's video games and manga/anime that I'm more careful about.
Though I grew up in a Nintendo household, don't expect any coddling for them from me. Or of Microsoft of Sony or even Sega, for that matter, because since I started actually making my own money and my gaming options were no longer limited just to what my parents deigned to give me come Christmas, I've basically had no console allegiances to speak of. If it looks good, if it looks interesting, if it's trying something unique and special, if it's another piece of proof that video games are no longer just escapism but another valid artistic medium-- odds are I'm going to play it regardless of system. Whether I have the funds on hand at the time to actually play it is another matter entirely.
Anime and manga... well, again let's just say I'm very very very VERY picky and even more critical, but that doesn't mean I don't like it-- just that I'm holding it up to higher scrutiny or expecting more from it than what normally is deemed 'popular' enough to sate the otaku population. Just don't mention Bleach around these here parts.
Anyway, I'll start out by posting up some of my older reviews (or at least linking them from my LJ, I suppose), in order to give a taste of my writing style and for archival purposes, then just posting here directly for all future releases. Thoughts range from pseudo-scholarly to incoherent ranting and back at random, so keep an eye out.
Not expecting anyone to keep up with this, but if you decide you like the cut of my proverbial jib, feel free to stick around.
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