Cynicism, corruption, the transition from the idyllic fifties to the revolutionary sixties: these are some heavy topics that aren't often addressed on-screen with subtlety or self-awareness. Eighteen years after starring in All the President's Men, Robert Redford stepped behind the camera to tackle another based-on-fact tale, the story of Congressional subcommittee investigator Dick Goodwin's involvement in uncovering the original reality-TV scandal that rocked the nation (and changed the way we watch TV for good); or, in other words, Quiz Show (1994). And the best part is, it embodies those elusive qualities mentionned above, and embodies them very well, too.
It's 1959, and Dick Goodwin (Rob Morrow, taking a break from Northern Exposure) is a young Harvard Law valedictorian trying to "postpone the inevitable" - working on Wall Street - by working for the government instead, as counsel for the Legislative Oversight Subcommittee for the U.S. House of Representatives. When game-show champion Herb Stemple (John Turturro) is asked by is asked by the producers of Twenty One to take a dive as he's no longer pulling in the ratings, he agrees...but, soon after, goes to all the way to the Grand Jury to expose the show's rigging. Bitter, hyper, immature, and somewhat unstable, Herb lacks both credibility and hard evidence, and the Grand Jury is concluded, its findings closed. It's those suspicious closed findings - the first in the U.S. in nearly a hundred years - that turn Dick's attention from passing to undivided, and he begins his investigation in earnest as he tries to get testimony from former contestants, as well as the current champion whom Herb "lost" to, Charlie Van Doren (Ralph Fiennes, before he was famous in the States). The very definition of clean-cut, all-American, and well-rounded (and, because he's Ralph Fiennes, good-looking), thirty-three year-old Charlie Van Doren is a master of astrophysics, a doctor of English, a professor at Columbia University, and the son of a Pulitzer Prize winner, Charlie really wants to be on a quiz show, and originally approaches producers Dan Enwright (David Payner) and Albert Freedman (Hank Azaria) for a shot on a less popular program. They, obviously, decide that he's just what they need to boost Twenty One's ratings even higher, and are up-front about their intention to do everything necessary to ensure that he remains champion and keeps those ratings going. Charlie is uncomfortable with this, and tries to make Dan and Albert let him win honestly, but eventually goes along with the deception. However, Charlie is not the villain of the story - he's not even a villain at all. It's easy to understand his choices, and it's easy to understand how he can continue to make them in spite of his nagging conscience. An affable guy, him and Dick form an odd sort of friendship, and Dick comes to want nothing more than to expose NBC's corruption while keeping Charlie out of the investigative spotlight.
With Quiz Show, Robert Redford showed himself to be as good behind the camera as he is in front of it. This film tackles typically over-dramatized themes with subtlety and grace, which by natural extension, renders them powerful and relevant. A multi-layered story, it's not just about a television scandal, but about the transition between two very different decades that have come to be the symbols of, respectively, the past and the present. It's astonishing that such a seemingly trivial thing as a rigged game show could mark the beginning of institutionalized distrust and cynicism, and yet, it did, and Redford plays this out with a deft and light touch, one example of this being through the ingenious use of two different versions of "Mack the Knife" over the opening and closing credits. The most memorable moment of the film encapsulates Redford's subtlety when, in the film's climax, a key player in the scandal confesses his guilt to the Grand Jury, and the audience's response coupled with the unspoken reality that condemns the audience's response (I'd love to talk about this more, but it is the climax, and I don't want to spoil it). In the era of reality-TV, we as audience have come to expect falsity from our programming; it must be remembered, while watching this film, that this was not an expectation prior to the Twenty One scandal. Most interestingly, Quiz Show was made well before reality-TV was infesting every network and channel - Redford made it because it was an interesting story, but fifteen years later, it's very much become a film for today's audiences.
The casting and acting is excellent, and once you stop being distracted by Ralph Fiennes confusing and inconclusive "neither here nor there" accent, you'll be able to sit back and enjoy watching him play a very normal person - a rarity, at least on this side of the pond. A former Oscar Best Picture nominee, Quiz Show isn't a particularly famous or well-known film, but it's a fine one, and one of the best of its kind you'll ever see. I can't recommend it enough.
Friday, January 30, 2009
If you give someone enough...well, you know the rest
One of the many joys of having a spouse is that they prompt you to do things you wouldn't normally do. I, for example, would not normally watch another Hitchcock film, having been unimpressed with both North by Northwest and Vertigo. In this case, however, the issue was a film my husband had only seen the end of, so when he found it at the library, he was eager to watch. He told me, very seriously and knowing my feelings toward Hitchcock, that he believed I'd enjoy it. He was right. (One of the other joys of having a spouse: they get to know you pretty well.)
The film in question is Rope (1948), starring John Dall, Farley Granger, and James Stewart, and based on the 1929 stage play Patrick Hamilton. In the tradition of The Tell-Tale Heart, Rope is a murder mystery wherein the question is not "Who did it?" but "Who will find out? And how?" It opens with Ivy-league students Brandon (Dall) and Phillip (Granger) strangling classmate David to death and hiding his body in a storage chest in Brandon's living room, roughly fifteen minutes prior to the party Brandon is about to host. We learn right away two things: one, that they killed him for philosophy (more on that later) and excitement (can they get away with it?), and two, that guileless, dominant psychopath Brandon enjoys playing puppet master to confused, conflicted Phillip, a young man who seems to have no foundation of his own. Soon, the guests arrive, carefully determined by Brandon's malicious sense of humour and desire to manipulate. We have David's father, the guest of honour, invited to view and borrow some rare first-edition books. We have David's imminent fiancee, Janet, and her most recent ex, Kenneth, whom Brandon (also a Janet ex) feels is far more worthy than David. We have Brandon, Phillip, and David's former prep school housemaster (old-school talk for dorm RD), Rupert (James Stewart), whose teachings inspired Brandon and Phillip's crime, and whom Brandon seeks to either fool or impress. And, hovering above all the conversations that range from normal and inane (don't you think James Mason is sexy?) to frightening (murder is an art form!), there is the constant speculation amongst the guests on why David hasn't arrived yet.
I've never had a problem with James Stewart, I've just never thought he warranted his high level of fame. His performance here, in one of his least-known films, is enough to warrant it. As the boys former mentor, we see him transform from a carelessly flippant and arrogant intellectual to a desperate man wondering what he's wrought (and frantically trying to distance himself from it) as his suspicions, and horror, increase. He demonstrates himself to the party crowd as a high-and-mighty intellectual, but we also see, through his prodding conversations with poor terrified Phillip, why he was their most influential mentor, as he genuinely cares for the boys. This performance can be described in a way I never thought I'd describe James Stewart: subtle. It's fantastic, has a marvelous flow, and ties the whole film together.
On the more serious side of things, Rope's theme of the power of careless words led me to some hard thinking. Rupert, in his housemaster days, had shared with Brandon and Phillip his philosophy of superiority, which can be summed up as such: morals and ethics are for the common man, not the privileged few who are the true intellectuals, the Nieztche-esque supermen who stand apart and need no such governance. Taking it one step further, Rupert posited that murder should be rightly reserved for those same privileged few, as an art for which only the intellectual can properly govern, as a means to eliminate useless people. You might be thinking, "what a ridiculous, unrealistic premise for a story!" I might be thinking that too, had I not seen, met, and read articles by academics who at least take the first part of Rupert's philosophy very, very seriously. So let's get that out of the way: this is a realistic idea and premise on which to base the tale. But back to the core of the matter. When Rupert realizes what his words have wrought, he tries with all his might to distance himself from them, to insist it's crazy for Brandon to have interpreted them in this way, to put the full blame for what's happened on the boys. Here, we see a man as scared as he is foolish - he seems to have truly believed that sharing such a philosophy during late-night, dormitory, mentor-student bonding chats, would have no real influence on the students in question. It's a powerful portrait of the academic who sits in his proverbial ivory tower, bandying about words with vigor, considering nothing of their practical application in the world outside school walls. Most importantly, this film made me think about my own guilt in these matters. As the film concluded, I thought of the biblical warning that at the end of days, every idle word will be accounted for. As anyone who reads this blog has noticed, I through around a lot of idle words, and am convicted with the guilt of having thrown around a lot of words in a careless fashion. The consequences of Rupert's careless words are extreme - but that doesn't mean that mine don't have consequences of their own. It was very good that I saw this film.
Surprisingly, the same critics or publications who think that North by Northwest is the cat's pyjamas have no love for Rope. In doing some research to see how the film's been received, if found that everyone from Time to Variety to the venerable Roger Ebert is of the opinion that Rope is "a thin excercise in suspense", a "story of meager range", a fluff melodrama whose only value is as an experimental film (in reference to the editing used to create the illusion of no cuts in the real-time film). I suppose if you know that a film has something gimmicky about it, it's easy to dismiss the parts that aren't a gimmick - besides, critics and gimmicks don't typically get along. I also wonder if part of the poor reception is due to the fact that critics are, essentially, professional philosophers and wordsmiths, and Rope is an especially cautionary tale for ones such as they. No one likes to consider ugly truths.
I've had a lot of good experiences with plays translated to film. Proof, starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Jake Gyllenhall, is fantastic, as is the original Sleuth, starring Michael Caine and Sir Laurence Olivier. Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, with Gary Oldman and Tim Roth, remains the only piece of absurdist theatre I've found to be worthwhile (and entertaining to boot!). Rope is quite welcome among these, and I do hope that you're able to find and watch this searing, skillfull, important film.
The film in question is Rope (1948), starring John Dall, Farley Granger, and James Stewart, and based on the 1929 stage play Patrick Hamilton. In the tradition of The Tell-Tale Heart, Rope is a murder mystery wherein the question is not "Who did it?" but "Who will find out? And how?" It opens with Ivy-league students Brandon (Dall) and Phillip (Granger) strangling classmate David to death and hiding his body in a storage chest in Brandon's living room, roughly fifteen minutes prior to the party Brandon is about to host. We learn right away two things: one, that they killed him for philosophy (more on that later) and excitement (can they get away with it?), and two, that guileless, dominant psychopath Brandon enjoys playing puppet master to confused, conflicted Phillip, a young man who seems to have no foundation of his own. Soon, the guests arrive, carefully determined by Brandon's malicious sense of humour and desire to manipulate. We have David's father, the guest of honour, invited to view and borrow some rare first-edition books. We have David's imminent fiancee, Janet, and her most recent ex, Kenneth, whom Brandon (also a Janet ex) feels is far more worthy than David. We have Brandon, Phillip, and David's former prep school housemaster (old-school talk for dorm RD), Rupert (James Stewart), whose teachings inspired Brandon and Phillip's crime, and whom Brandon seeks to either fool or impress. And, hovering above all the conversations that range from normal and inane (don't you think James Mason is sexy?) to frightening (murder is an art form!), there is the constant speculation amongst the guests on why David hasn't arrived yet.
I've never had a problem with James Stewart, I've just never thought he warranted his high level of fame. His performance here, in one of his least-known films, is enough to warrant it. As the boys former mentor, we see him transform from a carelessly flippant and arrogant intellectual to a desperate man wondering what he's wrought (and frantically trying to distance himself from it) as his suspicions, and horror, increase. He demonstrates himself to the party crowd as a high-and-mighty intellectual, but we also see, through his prodding conversations with poor terrified Phillip, why he was their most influential mentor, as he genuinely cares for the boys. This performance can be described in a way I never thought I'd describe James Stewart: subtle. It's fantastic, has a marvelous flow, and ties the whole film together.
On the more serious side of things, Rope's theme of the power of careless words led me to some hard thinking. Rupert, in his housemaster days, had shared with Brandon and Phillip his philosophy of superiority, which can be summed up as such: morals and ethics are for the common man, not the privileged few who are the true intellectuals, the Nieztche-esque supermen who stand apart and need no such governance. Taking it one step further, Rupert posited that murder should be rightly reserved for those same privileged few, as an art for which only the intellectual can properly govern, as a means to eliminate useless people. You might be thinking, "what a ridiculous, unrealistic premise for a story!" I might be thinking that too, had I not seen, met, and read articles by academics who at least take the first part of Rupert's philosophy very, very seriously. So let's get that out of the way: this is a realistic idea and premise on which to base the tale. But back to the core of the matter. When Rupert realizes what his words have wrought, he tries with all his might to distance himself from them, to insist it's crazy for Brandon to have interpreted them in this way, to put the full blame for what's happened on the boys. Here, we see a man as scared as he is foolish - he seems to have truly believed that sharing such a philosophy during late-night, dormitory, mentor-student bonding chats, would have no real influence on the students in question. It's a powerful portrait of the academic who sits in his proverbial ivory tower, bandying about words with vigor, considering nothing of their practical application in the world outside school walls. Most importantly, this film made me think about my own guilt in these matters. As the film concluded, I thought of the biblical warning that at the end of days, every idle word will be accounted for. As anyone who reads this blog has noticed, I through around a lot of idle words, and am convicted with the guilt of having thrown around a lot of words in a careless fashion. The consequences of Rupert's careless words are extreme - but that doesn't mean that mine don't have consequences of their own. It was very good that I saw this film.
Surprisingly, the same critics or publications who think that North by Northwest is the cat's pyjamas have no love for Rope. In doing some research to see how the film's been received, if found that everyone from Time to Variety to the venerable Roger Ebert is of the opinion that Rope is "a thin excercise in suspense", a "story of meager range", a fluff melodrama whose only value is as an experimental film (in reference to the editing used to create the illusion of no cuts in the real-time film). I suppose if you know that a film has something gimmicky about it, it's easy to dismiss the parts that aren't a gimmick - besides, critics and gimmicks don't typically get along. I also wonder if part of the poor reception is due to the fact that critics are, essentially, professional philosophers and wordsmiths, and Rope is an especially cautionary tale for ones such as they. No one likes to consider ugly truths.
I've had a lot of good experiences with plays translated to film. Proof, starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Jake Gyllenhall, is fantastic, as is the original Sleuth, starring Michael Caine and Sir Laurence Olivier. Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, with Gary Oldman and Tim Roth, remains the only piece of absurdist theatre I've found to be worthwhile (and entertaining to boot!). Rope is quite welcome among these, and I do hope that you're able to find and watch this searing, skillfull, important film.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Just You Wait! And Wait! And Wait...
I'm very fond of musicals. Up 'til this weekend, I'd seen every big-name classic film musical, save one - that being Lerner and Loewe's My Fair Lady. I like to watch famous movies I've never seen; might as well see what's all the fuss is about, right?
Man. First The Long Riders, now this. It just wasn't my weekend for movies.
Adapted from George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, My Fair Lady tells the tale of how a phonetics professor, who appears to have been the template for the title character of House, M.D., teaches an English guttersnipe how to pass for a noblewoman so that he can win a bet and get a one-up on hundreds of people at the same time. As a musical...well, it may very well be the worst I've ever seen. It clocks in at over three hours, and that time is ill-spent on poor pacing, redundancy, incoherent editing (especially the cut between "there's six weeks 'til the ball!" and "hey, it's the night of the ball!") and the fact that every musical number runs at least two or three minutes too long - which, in music, is much longer than it sounds on paper. It felt like an amateur production; as Corey observed, it was like watching the work of someone who was good enough to write songs, but not good enough to know when to finish them. And there are some good songs here - or they would be good, if they didn't keep going like the proverbial Energizer Bunny. At any rate, I couldn't believe how long it took Lerner and Loewe to say so little, and when the intermission appeared on screen, I could only sit there in stunned disbelief that there was a whole half left. Nothing about this film warranted an intermission and, were it well-made, it wouldn't need one, because there was nowhere close to enough story to stretch over three-plus hours. On top of that, it's full of rip-offs from earlier, better musicals. The most notable of these is the "The Rain In Spain" sequence, an early-morning epiphany song and dance which feels and looks like (and probably is) a very inferior knock-off of Singin' in the Rain's "Good Morning."
As for the story, it's a load of crap. I've neither seen nor read Pygmalion, but if My Fair Lady is true to its source material, I may need to agree with G.K. Chesterton's assessment of Shaw as (I paraphrase here) the only person to never have written a bit of poetry. Unless, of course, this story's meant as a satire, which would change my views on it considerably. I described Professor Henry Higgins as a template for Hugh Laurie's House, and he is. A narcissist, a hedonist, and an all-around bastion of arrogance who gets his kicks by believing himself better than everyone else in the room (and outside of it), there's nothing to attract either Eliza or the audience to old Henry. He has no significant change of heart, he is not transformed by his realization that he's become dependent on Eliza, he - like House - does not grow as a character at all. His ultimate apology for his horrific treatment of her and everyone else is no apology, but an explanation that she's looking at it all wrong: it's not that he singles her out for bad treatment, he treats everyone like crap! And it's just the way he is, and he can't (false: he won't) change. And Eliza spurns someone who loves her (perhaps because he's such an ill-written character?) to return to Higgins in the end, which in my books makes her either a masochist or a fool. Or perhaps both. Or perhaps the author is suggesting that abused women returning to their abusers is a good thing, as Eliza's return ends the film on a triumphant note. What I'm trying to say is, this show makes a mockery of love, relations, and self-discipline. By the time this beast was over, I was so bored and offended that I had to put on Once - a truth-speaking, very well-made film that, by its very nature is the righteous opposite of My Fair Lady - in order to not spent the evening completely irked.
A lot of people love this musical. Some reviewers have had the lack of presence of mind to describe it as the perfect musical. Look - there's only so far the entertainment of such an outrageous character as Eliza can take a show. It certainly can't take it through three-plus hours of redundant dialogue, bad pacing, overstuffed songs, and some of the stupidest love-related values every conceived. Do yourself a favour and watch instead a musical that doesn't suck, like The Sound of Music, or South Pacific, or Singin' in the Rain - that last one doesn't even need an intermission, and the first two earned theirs.
Man. First The Long Riders, now this. It just wasn't my weekend for movies.
Adapted from George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, My Fair Lady tells the tale of how a phonetics professor, who appears to have been the template for the title character of House, M.D., teaches an English guttersnipe how to pass for a noblewoman so that he can win a bet and get a one-up on hundreds of people at the same time. As a musical...well, it may very well be the worst I've ever seen. It clocks in at over three hours, and that time is ill-spent on poor pacing, redundancy, incoherent editing (especially the cut between "there's six weeks 'til the ball!" and "hey, it's the night of the ball!") and the fact that every musical number runs at least two or three minutes too long - which, in music, is much longer than it sounds on paper. It felt like an amateur production; as Corey observed, it was like watching the work of someone who was good enough to write songs, but not good enough to know when to finish them. And there are some good songs here - or they would be good, if they didn't keep going like the proverbial Energizer Bunny. At any rate, I couldn't believe how long it took Lerner and Loewe to say so little, and when the intermission appeared on screen, I could only sit there in stunned disbelief that there was a whole half left. Nothing about this film warranted an intermission and, were it well-made, it wouldn't need one, because there was nowhere close to enough story to stretch over three-plus hours. On top of that, it's full of rip-offs from earlier, better musicals. The most notable of these is the "The Rain In Spain" sequence, an early-morning epiphany song and dance which feels and looks like (and probably is) a very inferior knock-off of Singin' in the Rain's "Good Morning."
As for the story, it's a load of crap. I've neither seen nor read Pygmalion, but if My Fair Lady is true to its source material, I may need to agree with G.K. Chesterton's assessment of Shaw as (I paraphrase here) the only person to never have written a bit of poetry. Unless, of course, this story's meant as a satire, which would change my views on it considerably. I described Professor Henry Higgins as a template for Hugh Laurie's House, and he is. A narcissist, a hedonist, and an all-around bastion of arrogance who gets his kicks by believing himself better than everyone else in the room (and outside of it), there's nothing to attract either Eliza or the audience to old Henry. He has no significant change of heart, he is not transformed by his realization that he's become dependent on Eliza, he - like House - does not grow as a character at all. His ultimate apology for his horrific treatment of her and everyone else is no apology, but an explanation that she's looking at it all wrong: it's not that he singles her out for bad treatment, he treats everyone like crap! And it's just the way he is, and he can't (false: he won't) change. And Eliza spurns someone who loves her (perhaps because he's such an ill-written character?) to return to Higgins in the end, which in my books makes her either a masochist or a fool. Or perhaps both. Or perhaps the author is suggesting that abused women returning to their abusers is a good thing, as Eliza's return ends the film on a triumphant note. What I'm trying to say is, this show makes a mockery of love, relations, and self-discipline. By the time this beast was over, I was so bored and offended that I had to put on Once - a truth-speaking, very well-made film that, by its very nature is the righteous opposite of My Fair Lady - in order to not spent the evening completely irked.
A lot of people love this musical. Some reviewers have had the lack of presence of mind to describe it as the perfect musical. Look - there's only so far the entertainment of such an outrageous character as Eliza can take a show. It certainly can't take it through three-plus hours of redundant dialogue, bad pacing, overstuffed songs, and some of the stupidest love-related values every conceived. Do yourself a favour and watch instead a musical that doesn't suck, like The Sound of Music, or South Pacific, or Singin' in the Rain - that last one doesn't even need an intermission, and the first two earned theirs.
The Loooooong Riders
I like westerns. I'd go so far as to say I love them. So I was expecting a pretty good afternoon when I sat down to watch The Long Riders, a tale of the final months of Jesse James and his gang, starring David Carradine and brothers, Dennis and Randy Quaid, Stacy and James Keach, and Nicholas and Christopher Guest (yep, that Christopher Guest). A solid cast of working actors, a strong foundation for a story, and hey - it's a western! Westerns rock!
I'll be honest up front: I couldn't make myself finish it.
The Long Riders is built on interchanging slice-of-life scenes with brief but heavy action sequences. I suppose it's intended to show the awkwardness of the outlaw life, that being weeks or months of tedium followed by a violent disruption of some sort. Here's the big problem: a story whose ending is common knowledge needs to be better than the average film in order to be engaging and interesting, and to make the viewer want to see it through. This film doesn't have that certain je ne sais quoi; in other words, I was so freakin' bored that I turned it off about two-thirds in because I just couldn't take it any more. On top of being bored out of my skull, I was quite disappointed about that fact, because David Carradine is always great to watch, and it's rare to see Christopher Guest as a villain - and he's a great one, too!
The Long Riders is just over an hour and a half, but it felt as long as Heaven's Gate. Erk. I'd rate this film as "watch at your own risk."
I'll be honest up front: I couldn't make myself finish it.
The Long Riders is built on interchanging slice-of-life scenes with brief but heavy action sequences. I suppose it's intended to show the awkwardness of the outlaw life, that being weeks or months of tedium followed by a violent disruption of some sort. Here's the big problem: a story whose ending is common knowledge needs to be better than the average film in order to be engaging and interesting, and to make the viewer want to see it through. This film doesn't have that certain je ne sais quoi; in other words, I was so freakin' bored that I turned it off about two-thirds in because I just couldn't take it any more. On top of being bored out of my skull, I was quite disappointed about that fact, because David Carradine is always great to watch, and it's rare to see Christopher Guest as a villain - and he's a great one, too!
The Long Riders is just over an hour and a half, but it felt as long as Heaven's Gate. Erk. I'd rate this film as "watch at your own risk."
Friday, January 23, 2009
This Just In: Controversy is Not a Story
Breaking News, reviewed below, is a very good film about image, public relations, and spin. Seeing as how we picked up Jason Reitman's Thank You For Smoking at the same time, and it shares themes with Breaking News, I thought they'd make an interesting double-header. I was also curious to see the film that made people forget about The Core and put Aaron Eckhart in a position that made him seem an obvious choice for the role of troubled, charismatic D.A. Harvey Dent in The Dark Night.
Well, let's just say I'm glad it came from the library, and didn't cost money - but that's still some quality Mass Effect time I'm never getting back.
Thank You For Smoking is the story of top tobacco industry lobbyist Nick Naylor (Eckhart), a charismatic smartass who describes himself as having "a B.A. in kicking ass and taking names", and who is very good at his job, which he claims to have won despite having no university education, but simply by being, well, a charismatic smartass. His job consists mostly of making people argue not about what they want to argue about, but about what Nick wants to argue about - admittedly, an effective technique. He's a master of distraction, and turning a conversation, and he lives by the maxim that if you argue correctly, you're never wrong. He also has a twelve year-old son from a failed marriage; in a nice departure from the standard, he's a good dad. Nick and Joey get along well, and love each other, and being a smartass tobacco lobbyist doesn't automatically make Nick and irresponsible, out-of-touch, deadbeat. The story is initially set up as leading toward Nick's appearance at a congressional hearing regarding the use of pictoral warning labels on cigarette cartons, squaring off against lead adversary Senator Finistirre (William H. Macy, in a throwaway role). However, before we get to that congressional hearing, we encounter Nick talking to Joey's class about his work, Nick having a fling with a reporter (Katie Holmes), Nick making inane insults about his boss, Nick visiting the head of Big Tobacco, Nick visiting the orginal Marlborough Man, and Nick being kidnapped by anti-smoking supremacists who attempt to murder him by overdosing him with nicotine patches. It's a lot to have happen, none of these adventures have a clear narrative connection, and as a result, the story is lost pretty quickly. By the time we get to the congressional hearing, it's pretty hard to care - there's no climax, because the story has no flow.
Which is a shame. In good hands, this premise could have been very interesting. Unfortunately, director Reitman seems to have coasted on the idea that tobacco lobbyists are controversial, smartasses are cool...and left it at that. Alas, controversy does not a film make. Thank You For Smoking isn't just a badly disjointed narrative, it also pulls out every visual cliche in the "I'm a hip filmmaker!" book (and quite a few verbal ones, too). The first time we meet Senator Finistirre, he's wearing socks with sandals and has an ad for Vermont cheese directly above his chair - Reitman may as well have written "I'm a dork!" in permanent marker across William H. Macy's forehead in order to achieve the same desired effect. Reitman's grasp of comedy is also as sketchy as it is lazy, as demonstrated by the direction of Eckhart's facial cues. Nick Naylor is introduced to us as a master of public relations, a master of spin, someone who's firmly in control...but the first half-hour of the film is packed with him showing every emotion imaginable on his face while talking to people he thinks are loony, or who catch him off guard. It's probably intended for comic effect, because Eckhart's expressions are quite funny; unfortunately, they make no sense, contradict the established character, and lose the film a lot of credibility right off the bat. If you need to tell the audience when something's funny, and you're directing a comedy, you're probably not doing you're job. It's also kind of insulting. It's not because Nick is the devil's advocate that I don't care about him as a character, it's because he's so inconsistent, I have no idea what his character is.
There's another major obstacle in this film: the devil's advocate doesn't actually stand for anything, at least nothing he tells the audience about. Simply being a devil's advocate doesn't make a character. There are some truly great devil's advocates in film, from Lawrence of Arabia's Prince Faisal, to Blade Runner's Roy Batty, to T1he Big Lebowski's Walter Sobchak, to The Quiet American's Alden Pyle, to Michael Clayton's, um, Michael Clayton...Nick Naylor doesn't exactly stand up to any of these. He's hollow, empty fluff. Not exactly the most effective foundation for selling - or exploring - controversy. The film as a whole has no message. It skates around a lot of issues, but refuses to actually address them. That's not open-minded, it's ineffective - and in my book, lazy and cowardly, too.
The film does have a few interesting aspects. Nick's son isn't the caricature of the precocious pre-teen, and is for the most part a character in his own right, which is welcome. And in an interesting turn - though, again, not really sure what kind of point Reitman's trying to make here - Senator Finistirre is not a Republican, and the liberals and lefties Nick lobbies for are headed up by a southern Colonel Sanders clone so white and old-fashioned conservative that he spends his days at a men's smoking club, waited on by his black manservants. But these tempting visual cues, like all the others in this film, are never explored, or used to make any sort of comment or point, and, alas, fall meaningless.
Also, I'm pretty sure randomly calling someone a pussy isn't funny or hip unless you're under the age of sixteen, or Sarah Silverman.
Well, let's just say I'm glad it came from the library, and didn't cost money - but that's still some quality Mass Effect time I'm never getting back.
Thank You For Smoking is the story of top tobacco industry lobbyist Nick Naylor (Eckhart), a charismatic smartass who describes himself as having "a B.A. in kicking ass and taking names", and who is very good at his job, which he claims to have won despite having no university education, but simply by being, well, a charismatic smartass. His job consists mostly of making people argue not about what they want to argue about, but about what Nick wants to argue about - admittedly, an effective technique. He's a master of distraction, and turning a conversation, and he lives by the maxim that if you argue correctly, you're never wrong. He also has a twelve year-old son from a failed marriage; in a nice departure from the standard, he's a good dad. Nick and Joey get along well, and love each other, and being a smartass tobacco lobbyist doesn't automatically make Nick and irresponsible, out-of-touch, deadbeat. The story is initially set up as leading toward Nick's appearance at a congressional hearing regarding the use of pictoral warning labels on cigarette cartons, squaring off against lead adversary Senator Finistirre (William H. Macy, in a throwaway role). However, before we get to that congressional hearing, we encounter Nick talking to Joey's class about his work, Nick having a fling with a reporter (Katie Holmes), Nick making inane insults about his boss, Nick visiting the head of Big Tobacco, Nick visiting the orginal Marlborough Man, and Nick being kidnapped by anti-smoking supremacists who attempt to murder him by overdosing him with nicotine patches. It's a lot to have happen, none of these adventures have a clear narrative connection, and as a result, the story is lost pretty quickly. By the time we get to the congressional hearing, it's pretty hard to care - there's no climax, because the story has no flow.
Which is a shame. In good hands, this premise could have been very interesting. Unfortunately, director Reitman seems to have coasted on the idea that tobacco lobbyists are controversial, smartasses are cool...and left it at that. Alas, controversy does not a film make. Thank You For Smoking isn't just a badly disjointed narrative, it also pulls out every visual cliche in the "I'm a hip filmmaker!" book (and quite a few verbal ones, too). The first time we meet Senator Finistirre, he's wearing socks with sandals and has an ad for Vermont cheese directly above his chair - Reitman may as well have written "I'm a dork!" in permanent marker across William H. Macy's forehead in order to achieve the same desired effect. Reitman's grasp of comedy is also as sketchy as it is lazy, as demonstrated by the direction of Eckhart's facial cues. Nick Naylor is introduced to us as a master of public relations, a master of spin, someone who's firmly in control...but the first half-hour of the film is packed with him showing every emotion imaginable on his face while talking to people he thinks are loony, or who catch him off guard. It's probably intended for comic effect, because Eckhart's expressions are quite funny; unfortunately, they make no sense, contradict the established character, and lose the film a lot of credibility right off the bat. If you need to tell the audience when something's funny, and you're directing a comedy, you're probably not doing you're job. It's also kind of insulting. It's not because Nick is the devil's advocate that I don't care about him as a character, it's because he's so inconsistent, I have no idea what his character is.
There's another major obstacle in this film: the devil's advocate doesn't actually stand for anything, at least nothing he tells the audience about. Simply being a devil's advocate doesn't make a character. There are some truly great devil's advocates in film, from Lawrence of Arabia's Prince Faisal, to Blade Runner's Roy Batty, to T1he Big Lebowski's Walter Sobchak, to The Quiet American's Alden Pyle, to Michael Clayton's, um, Michael Clayton...Nick Naylor doesn't exactly stand up to any of these. He's hollow, empty fluff. Not exactly the most effective foundation for selling - or exploring - controversy. The film as a whole has no message. It skates around a lot of issues, but refuses to actually address them. That's not open-minded, it's ineffective - and in my book, lazy and cowardly, too.
The film does have a few interesting aspects. Nick's son isn't the caricature of the precocious pre-teen, and is for the most part a character in his own right, which is welcome. And in an interesting turn - though, again, not really sure what kind of point Reitman's trying to make here - Senator Finistirre is not a Republican, and the liberals and lefties Nick lobbies for are headed up by a southern Colonel Sanders clone so white and old-fashioned conservative that he spends his days at a men's smoking club, waited on by his black manservants. But these tempting visual cues, like all the others in this film, are never explored, or used to make any sort of comment or point, and, alas, fall meaningless.
Also, I'm pretty sure randomly calling someone a pussy isn't funny or hip unless you're under the age of sixteen, or Sarah Silverman.
Breaking News
You've all heard the story: news outlets are bad, reporters screw up police work with their meddling, the media does no good for anyone. Hong Kong director Johnnie To apparently doesn't watch CSI or Law and Order, because he heard a different story, and a more accurate and fair one, too.
Breaking News (2004) begins as a standard action/ police procedural, but when a bust gone wrong is caught on tape and splashed across Hong Kong news broadcasts, the public becomes concerned that the police are not doing their job, and are unable to protect said public. What started out as a cops and robbers cat-and-mouse morphs into a PR war cat-and-mouse, as both sides must act quickly to achieve their goals while controlling how they look doing it. The police are the ones who have something to lose in this regard, as they're the ones who really need publicity that confirms their competance, behaviour, and control of the crisis, so most of their PR is damage control. Losing and saving face is a bigger deal in this culture than most, but on top of that, there's the plain fact that the public must be convinced of the abilities of their police for in order to prevent panicked anarchy. That being said, this publicity war doesn't stop or supercede the action, and the end result is a nicely made, well-balanced film.
It's well-balanced in more ways than one. For starters, the Hong Kong police are very good at their job, professionals across the board. At the head of the PR crisis is Commissioner Rebecca Fong (Kelly Chen), who's quickly tied in my book with Life 's Dani Reese for Best Dramatic Portrayal of a Female Cop. The fact that she's a woman and a high-ranking cop isn't on the radar; there's no dramatic controversy and her subordinates and peers respect her highly - and they respect her because she's excellent at what he does. Director To refuses to create drama by sacrificing realism or integrity in his characters, and this is especially notable in Rebecca's first conversation with the lead hostage taker. When he starts making sexually charged comments to try to get her riled up, she isn't shocked, she doesn't react with disgust, she doesn't get uncomfortable - because dealing with irritating people is what she's trained for, and her competence is shown in all aspects of her character. This is a refreshing change from what I'm used to seeing on screen in these situations. As well - and most notably, because it's the heart of the film - To's portrayal of the media is something to write home about. He and his characters see the media not as an evil, or "necessary evil", but a resource and a tool that we must learn to use properly. The reporters of Breaking News may be obsessed with getting a story (perhaps because it's their job?), but they're not a brainless bunch whose only concern is making the biggest splash.
On top of all that, it's just a good film, and probably a good introduction for anyone who hasn't seen - or who's had a bad experience with - Hong Kong film. To uses some classic, standard HK film tropes like slo-mo gunfights set to mournful piano music, and fart jokes, but they're...upgraded. Refined. Nothing's over the top in Breaking News, which I suppose, considering that it's a HK action film, may be a bit strange. But it works, and it works very well. Good action, good humour, good ol' insane HK stuntment doing insane stuntmen things, and it's beautifully photographed, too. All in all, if you can track down Breaking News, it's a good way to spend an entertaining yet mentally engaged evening.
Breaking News (2004) begins as a standard action/ police procedural, but when a bust gone wrong is caught on tape and splashed across Hong Kong news broadcasts, the public becomes concerned that the police are not doing their job, and are unable to protect said public. What started out as a cops and robbers cat-and-mouse morphs into a PR war cat-and-mouse, as both sides must act quickly to achieve their goals while controlling how they look doing it. The police are the ones who have something to lose in this regard, as they're the ones who really need publicity that confirms their competance, behaviour, and control of the crisis, so most of their PR is damage control. Losing and saving face is a bigger deal in this culture than most, but on top of that, there's the plain fact that the public must be convinced of the abilities of their police for in order to prevent panicked anarchy. That being said, this publicity war doesn't stop or supercede the action, and the end result is a nicely made, well-balanced film.
It's well-balanced in more ways than one. For starters, the Hong Kong police are very good at their job, professionals across the board. At the head of the PR crisis is Commissioner Rebecca Fong (Kelly Chen), who's quickly tied in my book with Life 's Dani Reese for Best Dramatic Portrayal of a Female Cop. The fact that she's a woman and a high-ranking cop isn't on the radar; there's no dramatic controversy and her subordinates and peers respect her highly - and they respect her because she's excellent at what he does. Director To refuses to create drama by sacrificing realism or integrity in his characters, and this is especially notable in Rebecca's first conversation with the lead hostage taker. When he starts making sexually charged comments to try to get her riled up, she isn't shocked, she doesn't react with disgust, she doesn't get uncomfortable - because dealing with irritating people is what she's trained for, and her competence is shown in all aspects of her character. This is a refreshing change from what I'm used to seeing on screen in these situations. As well - and most notably, because it's the heart of the film - To's portrayal of the media is something to write home about. He and his characters see the media not as an evil, or "necessary evil", but a resource and a tool that we must learn to use properly. The reporters of Breaking News may be obsessed with getting a story (perhaps because it's their job?), but they're not a brainless bunch whose only concern is making the biggest splash.
On top of all that, it's just a good film, and probably a good introduction for anyone who hasn't seen - or who's had a bad experience with - Hong Kong film. To uses some classic, standard HK film tropes like slo-mo gunfights set to mournful piano music, and fart jokes, but they're...upgraded. Refined. Nothing's over the top in Breaking News, which I suppose, considering that it's a HK action film, may be a bit strange. But it works, and it works very well. Good action, good humour, good ol' insane HK stuntment doing insane stuntmen things, and it's beautifully photographed, too. All in all, if you can track down Breaking News, it's a good way to spend an entertaining yet mentally engaged evening.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Discovery: The Monkey Does Not Have the Data Module
After a disappointing text-only homage to 2001: A Space Odyssey - you shouldn't have to work that hard to unlock text-only Easter eggs! - the developers of Mass Effect returned to my good graces with the sidequest "UNC: Lost Module", a tiny hiccup of a mission which artfully combines classic horror film/game lore (toxic hazard planets full of monkeys!) with classic camp sci-fi lore (dirty thieving monkeys!) as well as classic odd cartoon lore (see below). A video clip of the following was, sadly, not forthcoming.
One time I hired a monkey to take notes for me in class. I would sit there with my mind a complete blank while the monkey scribbled on little pieces of paper. At the end of the week the teacher said, "Class, I want you to write a paper using your notes." So I wrote a paper that said, "Hello, my name is Bingo. I like to climb on things. Can I have a banana? Eek eek." I got an F. When I told my mom about it, she said, "I told you, never trust a monkey!" The end.
- "Brak's School Daze: Never Trust a Monkey" (Space Ghost Coast to Coast)
Lost! No "Snappy Title" Puns Included.
Well, well. Lost is back, after some nine-odd months, and I am personally quite pleased with this occurrence. I enjoy Lost. It's a good sci-fi, a good myth, a good character study, and a good serial. Perhaps it's a good allegory as well, who knows? We should be finding out soon just how allegorical (or not) it is. Sure, it had the one bad season, like every other show on the planet (except, to date, other one-name wonder Life), but if you haven't bothered with Lost because you've heard all kinds of crazy stuff about it being, well, crazy, I'd urge you to pick up season 1 and reconsider.
Here's the thing: Lost is good/great TV. You can enjoy it without sinking yourself in, or obsessing over, the raft of theories that surround it. You probably won't enjoy it as much if you insist that the mysteries of the show must be either purely scientific or purely supernatural. It is what it is, which is mostly a well-built mythology that reminds me of (and, I think, borrows more than a bit from) Stephen King's Dark Tower books. Of course, not every question was answered with finality in The Dark Tower. Dum dum duuuuum!
That being said, that you can enjoy Lost without obsessing over theories, there's a lot in the show that makes for interesting analyzing; it's a rich story, and well thought out. For that stuff, I like to sit back and let Entertainment Weekly's Jeff Jensen do the leg work. He's an excellent analyst, and not rabid or fanatic about one theory over the other, and he always has something to write that's worth reading. If you are into Lost, and up to speed on all the seasons, check out 'Doc' Jensen's pre-season commentary for some sound thoughts on, in particular, those crazy Dharma Initiative videos (Ma'iq the Liar, anyone?). The Doc also does a post-episode analysis on a weekly basis, though I imagine us in Canada with no cable will be behind on those now, because apparently everyone else got to watch the season premiered with two episodes instead of the one aired locally. Boo-urns.
Here's the thing: Lost is good/great TV. You can enjoy it without sinking yourself in, or obsessing over, the raft of theories that surround it. You probably won't enjoy it as much if you insist that the mysteries of the show must be either purely scientific or purely supernatural. It is what it is, which is mostly a well-built mythology that reminds me of (and, I think, borrows more than a bit from) Stephen King's Dark Tower books. Of course, not every question was answered with finality in The Dark Tower. Dum dum duuuuum!
That being said, that you can enjoy Lost without obsessing over theories, there's a lot in the show that makes for interesting analyzing; it's a rich story, and well thought out. For that stuff, I like to sit back and let Entertainment Weekly's Jeff Jensen do the leg work. He's an excellent analyst, and not rabid or fanatic about one theory over the other, and he always has something to write that's worth reading. If you are into Lost, and up to speed on all the seasons, check out 'Doc' Jensen's pre-season commentary for some sound thoughts on, in particular, those crazy Dharma Initiative videos (Ma'iq the Liar, anyone?). The Doc also does a post-episode analysis on a weekly basis, though I imagine us in Canada with no cable will be behind on those now, because apparently everyone else got to watch the season premiered with two episodes instead of the one aired locally. Boo-urns.
Monday, January 12, 2009
My Best Friend Is A Talking Pie: Mass Effect
A good action RPG - not quite the same thing as a good adventure RPG; see: Oblivion - is hard to come by. That is to say, there aren't too many of them. Edmonton-based BioWare is not only one of the top-rated companies to work for in Canada, period, but they make darn fine action RPGs, too.
Mass Effect (Xbox 360) is one of those, a more than worthy successor to BioWare's famous Knights of the Old Republic games. With a good enough main story, more side quests that you can shake a stick at (many of them interesting), a great (and very fun) combat engine, an all-around first-rate design and character creation, and one of the best endgames ever, Mass Effect is the best time I've had with an action RPG since, well, Knights of the Old Republic II. You play as Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy, and start the game by selecting not only your combat class (standard-issue for any RPG), but a personal history and psychological profile as well. Those last two affect or govern conversations, dialogue options, and some side quests. You can be a spacer, following your parent's footsteps into the Navy; you can be a colonist who saw your family slaughtered by pirates, or an Earthborn orphan who ran with gangs and joined the Navy young in order to get out of trouble and have a fresh start. For a psych profile, you can be known as a war hero, the sole survivor of a massacre that wiped out your unit, or a ruthless soldier for whom the end always justify the means. Each personal history comes with a unique side quest involving your past, but some profiles, like the sole survivor, overlap with side quests anyone can take. Fun stuff, and it adds a new dimension to the action-RPG world. Obviously, the main quest involves you and the crew of the SSV Normandy saving all organic life in the known universe. Standard, but there's nothing wrong with standard - and this game does standard very well, and throws in enough speedbumps along the way.
Also, Mass Effect feels nice and big. The KotOR games could feel very restrictive at times, and small, but there are very few instances in Mass Effect that remind me it's not a sandbox game. There's plenty to do, and far to travel. It's a far fuller game than KotOR. Scaleable enemies permit you to burn through the main quest in, I don't know, you could probably do it in six hours if that was all you did in the game, but to put things into perspective, I finished my first play at around twenty-one hours...with roughly a fifth of the side quests completed. And those were just the side quests that I'd unlocked in my journal, so there's some nice bang for your buck. Speaking of KotOR, there are also some fun Star Wars references, including your very own Trench Run (Death Star not included), a very familiar-looking maintenance shaft, and a world that bears a striking resemblance to a fleshed-out version of the final planet from the first KotOR game.
My favourite thing about Mass Effect, especially in contrast to KotOR? The Paragon/Renegade scales, and the dialogue options that govern them. In KotOR, the Dark/Light Sides were on the same scale, so you were either one or the other, and if you earned yourself Dark Side points, they'd cancel out an equal number of Light Side points. Plus, the Dark Side dialogue options tended to be brainlessly violent - in other words, not that interesting. That drove Corey nuts, especially in KotOR II where Kreia keeps going on about how the Dark Side is all about subtle manipulation...but none of your dialogue options reflected that scene. In Mass Effect, the Paragon and Renegade points are kept separate, on two different scales, so you can earn both. More reflective of real life, actions that are classified as qualities of a renegade are not necessarily evil; likewise, actions that are classified as qualities of a paragon are not necessarily good. For example, I got Renegade points for encouraging Kaiden's affection, which made me laugh very hard, but which I saluted, because love is good, but romancing a subordinate officer should get you Renegade points! You can also get points in your Charm and Intimidate skills without ever using a level-up, just by getting Paragon and Renegade points in normal conversation - though I wouldn't recommend not putting any points into Charm and Intimidate, as they're actually very useful in this game, and can lead to some great plot twists. Also, Corey's testing out how many points you can get just from your Paragon/Renegade scale, and he currently has a level 37 character...and only three Charm/Intimidate. It's a nice system, leads to some very interesting conversation options, and I salute it.
Which brings us to the dialogue! The conversations of Mass Effect are fully cinematic - I mean fully. You know how an RPG usually involves you selecting a response from a list of text, and an animated character responding cinematically? Mass Effect presents your dialogue options in one- to five-word summaries, and then has them fleshed out by your character talking - carrying on an actual, two-sided conversation. This has its downsides, though; for one thing, the actual dialogue can turn out to be very different from what you thought was meant by the dialogue summary. As well, in what's perhaps the biggest downside of Mass Effect, the game doesn't download conversations to run off your hard drive based on your gender/profile - instead, it caches every conversation. Caches. Every. Conversation. This results in a good deal of slowdown; as well, it's hard on the Xbox - my pleasure derived by playing Mass Effect is tempered by hearing the poor brand-new console grind and labour in ways it doesn't have to with other games. But hey! The script is good, and so are the cinematics, and so is the voice acting! Veteran voice actor Jen Hale (of the Metroid Prime, Soul Calibur, X-Men Legends, and Knights of the Old Republic series, amongst tons else) does the female Shepard; fellow Star Wars alumnus Raphael Sbarge is back as yet another sci-fi love interest, Lt. Kaiden Alenko; Brandon Keener is fantastic as ex-cop Garrus Vakarian, and several members of the Halo trilogy cast round out the main crew. On top of that, you've got several Star Trek veterans, including Marina Siritis (TNG's Counsellor Troi) as a key villain, and plain ol' random "why are you in a game?" actors, like Seth Green (Buffy) as the Normandy's pilot, Joker, and my personal favourite, Lance Henriksen (Aliens) as an off-screen admiral who contacts you for jobs he'd like done in a quiet and sensitive (and potentially lethal) fashion. It's nice work, and I need to be feeling pretty impatient to skip Mass Effect's dialogue. And the character conversations are mostly interesting, as well as the characters themselves. For example, one character has a degenerative physical condition, and is very aggressive about having earned their place on the crew and about the fact that they want no special treatment. The same character also makes wonderfully insubordinate comments after every main quest mission prior to endgame, which suggests that they do in fact coast on the expectation of special treatment - you only get a couple of chances to chew them out for insubordination, once in the very first conversation of the game, and once in your very first informal conversation with that character. Interesting.
There are some very interesting choices in this game, too, enhanced by the fact that the game does not decide whether you've been good or evil. Genuinely interesting questions about the means and the end are raised. You can talk your way out of a fight by convincing your adversary to commit suicide for the greater good - and, if you do it by using the Charm dialogue options, you get Paragon points for it. The moral dilemmas are actually interesting and problematic, as are the politics. Also, in the hour-long endgame, you have several Talking Pie decisions to make, one of which occurs early in endgame and affects your primary crew. If you've seen that classic Simpsons episode with Alec Baldwin and Ron Howard, than you know what kind of decisions I'm talking about. If you haven't seen it, there's a good chance you're also not the sort who's interested in Mass Effect - but if you are, well, I won't tell you what Talking Pie is...you'll just have a nice, stressful little surprise, and wish you'd saved earlier.. :D I chose to do my first play not as Elly playing Mass Effect, but as a real roleplay, modeled on Alien's Ellen Ripley. A true roleplay tends to be more intimate than distancing, and I raised myself a whole slew of questions as I answered every query with, "what would Ripley do?" - because that's the beauty of the roleplay. I'm not doing it, she is. But, I am. All-in-all, as good for introspection as it is fun. Mass Effect as a whole takes video-game roleplaying to a next level, which is great...but it also means things can get wierder than usual. For example, there is an optional romance sub-plot, a normal RPG nicety. It includes the standard military/horror "let's make love tonight, because tomorrow all organic life may be extinct" clause. However, in a game with fully cinematic conversations, that means that you can end up watching your character and chosen love interest Do It...which, depending on your point of view, is either awesome or creepy (I choose creepy). Potentially, this is a very big apology for the forcibly unrequited love from Knight of the Old Republic II - I can't imagine the slew of angry e-mails and porno fanfic that followed that one - however, I suspect that's not the only motivation. As a female character, you can choose bat for the other team with an exotic same-sex alien. Your Normandy's belowdecks are full of speculation as to your sexual preferences, and I had to undergo two separate conversations to convince hetero love-interest Kaiden that I wasn't a lesbian, and you have to confront the alien directly in order for the rumours to cease. Since, if you play as a male character, there's no same-sex option (or rumours) for you, I'm crying foul on some group of developers/programmers/designers shameless use of Mass Effect as an outlet for their girl-on-girl fantasies. It is interesting to note, though, that said exotic female alien is a complete bimbo - for a research scientist, she's amazingly dimwitted, slow, and full of the kind of inane and stupid dialogue that isn't the norm in this game - if her colouring were different, she would be the personification of the Dumb Blonde. So maybe someone on the development end decide to cry foul themselves.
Exploitation and cacheing aside, my only other complaints with Mass Effect would be that there are too many identical side quests involving hitting a planet, driving around, surveying stuff, and killing mercenaries, and that I'm not sold on this game's land vehicle. The Mako is a solid concept, a fully-armored, six-wheel, low-riding rover that is the means by which you're dropped onto planets, but - Corey and I disagree here - I don't find it handles very well. Probably because of its construction and concept, it's far clunkier and less maneuverable than my reference point for sci-fi game land vehicles, Halo's Warthog. It doesn't pull smooth, fast turns like the Warthog, and I like it less overall. Yes, they're very different vehicles in very different settings - the Mako is built for zero-atmosphere, low-gravity engagements. Still. The Warthog has a horn. When the Warthog gets damaged, its horn sounds like a jalopy horn. Warthog wins.
There's far too much good stuff about Mass Effect that the bad stuff can't possibly override. Some may find the combat too easy; personally, I like that. I don't want hard, stressful, adrenaline-filled combat from an action-RPG, I'll go play Halo 3 (thanks, Glenn!) if that's the sensation I'm after. Still, you can beat the game on "Veteran" to unlock "Hardcore", than beat it on "Hardcore" to unlock "Insane", so the options are there if that floats your boat. The assorted engines (combat, dialogue) are great, the plots and characters are interesting, the environments are gorgeous, and the score combining 90's action-movie music with shades of Babylon 5 doesn't hurt either. For an idea of the game's sense of humour, the music on a planet filled with horrible mutants uses sterotype circus music as its base, capitalizing on the general populace's horror of clowns. Mass Effect is a year or so old now, and can be had for under $20 if you shop right. Then, you can play through it with every single profile, do every endgame possible, and use those saves to influence the world of Mass Effect 2, due out...I don't know when. Well, you'll have a lot to keep you busy while waiting.
Mass Effect (Xbox 360) is one of those, a more than worthy successor to BioWare's famous Knights of the Old Republic games. With a good enough main story, more side quests that you can shake a stick at (many of them interesting), a great (and very fun) combat engine, an all-around first-rate design and character creation, and one of the best endgames ever, Mass Effect is the best time I've had with an action RPG since, well, Knights of the Old Republic II. You play as Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy, and start the game by selecting not only your combat class (standard-issue for any RPG), but a personal history and psychological profile as well. Those last two affect or govern conversations, dialogue options, and some side quests. You can be a spacer, following your parent's footsteps into the Navy; you can be a colonist who saw your family slaughtered by pirates, or an Earthborn orphan who ran with gangs and joined the Navy young in order to get out of trouble and have a fresh start. For a psych profile, you can be known as a war hero, the sole survivor of a massacre that wiped out your unit, or a ruthless soldier for whom the end always justify the means. Each personal history comes with a unique side quest involving your past, but some profiles, like the sole survivor, overlap with side quests anyone can take. Fun stuff, and it adds a new dimension to the action-RPG world. Obviously, the main quest involves you and the crew of the SSV Normandy saving all organic life in the known universe. Standard, but there's nothing wrong with standard - and this game does standard very well, and throws in enough speedbumps along the way.
Also, Mass Effect feels nice and big. The KotOR games could feel very restrictive at times, and small, but there are very few instances in Mass Effect that remind me it's not a sandbox game. There's plenty to do, and far to travel. It's a far fuller game than KotOR. Scaleable enemies permit you to burn through the main quest in, I don't know, you could probably do it in six hours if that was all you did in the game, but to put things into perspective, I finished my first play at around twenty-one hours...with roughly a fifth of the side quests completed. And those were just the side quests that I'd unlocked in my journal, so there's some nice bang for your buck. Speaking of KotOR, there are also some fun Star Wars references, including your very own Trench Run (Death Star not included), a very familiar-looking maintenance shaft, and a world that bears a striking resemblance to a fleshed-out version of the final planet from the first KotOR game.
My favourite thing about Mass Effect, especially in contrast to KotOR? The Paragon/Renegade scales, and the dialogue options that govern them. In KotOR, the Dark/Light Sides were on the same scale, so you were either one or the other, and if you earned yourself Dark Side points, they'd cancel out an equal number of Light Side points. Plus, the Dark Side dialogue options tended to be brainlessly violent - in other words, not that interesting. That drove Corey nuts, especially in KotOR II where Kreia keeps going on about how the Dark Side is all about subtle manipulation...but none of your dialogue options reflected that scene. In Mass Effect, the Paragon and Renegade points are kept separate, on two different scales, so you can earn both. More reflective of real life, actions that are classified as qualities of a renegade are not necessarily evil; likewise, actions that are classified as qualities of a paragon are not necessarily good. For example, I got Renegade points for encouraging Kaiden's affection, which made me laugh very hard, but which I saluted, because love is good, but romancing a subordinate officer should get you Renegade points! You can also get points in your Charm and Intimidate skills without ever using a level-up, just by getting Paragon and Renegade points in normal conversation - though I wouldn't recommend not putting any points into Charm and Intimidate, as they're actually very useful in this game, and can lead to some great plot twists. Also, Corey's testing out how many points you can get just from your Paragon/Renegade scale, and he currently has a level 37 character...and only three Charm/Intimidate. It's a nice system, leads to some very interesting conversation options, and I salute it.
Which brings us to the dialogue! The conversations of Mass Effect are fully cinematic - I mean fully. You know how an RPG usually involves you selecting a response from a list of text, and an animated character responding cinematically? Mass Effect presents your dialogue options in one- to five-word summaries, and then has them fleshed out by your character talking - carrying on an actual, two-sided conversation. This has its downsides, though; for one thing, the actual dialogue can turn out to be very different from what you thought was meant by the dialogue summary. As well, in what's perhaps the biggest downside of Mass Effect, the game doesn't download conversations to run off your hard drive based on your gender/profile - instead, it caches every conversation. Caches. Every. Conversation. This results in a good deal of slowdown; as well, it's hard on the Xbox - my pleasure derived by playing Mass Effect is tempered by hearing the poor brand-new console grind and labour in ways it doesn't have to with other games. But hey! The script is good, and so are the cinematics, and so is the voice acting! Veteran voice actor Jen Hale (of the Metroid Prime, Soul Calibur, X-Men Legends, and Knights of the Old Republic series, amongst tons else) does the female Shepard; fellow Star Wars alumnus Raphael Sbarge is back as yet another sci-fi love interest, Lt. Kaiden Alenko; Brandon Keener is fantastic as ex-cop Garrus Vakarian, and several members of the Halo trilogy cast round out the main crew. On top of that, you've got several Star Trek veterans, including Marina Siritis (TNG's Counsellor Troi) as a key villain, and plain ol' random "why are you in a game?" actors, like Seth Green (Buffy) as the Normandy's pilot, Joker, and my personal favourite, Lance Henriksen (Aliens) as an off-screen admiral who contacts you for jobs he'd like done in a quiet and sensitive (and potentially lethal) fashion. It's nice work, and I need to be feeling pretty impatient to skip Mass Effect's dialogue. And the character conversations are mostly interesting, as well as the characters themselves. For example, one character has a degenerative physical condition, and is very aggressive about having earned their place on the crew and about the fact that they want no special treatment. The same character also makes wonderfully insubordinate comments after every main quest mission prior to endgame, which suggests that they do in fact coast on the expectation of special treatment - you only get a couple of chances to chew them out for insubordination, once in the very first conversation of the game, and once in your very first informal conversation with that character. Interesting.
There are some very interesting choices in this game, too, enhanced by the fact that the game does not decide whether you've been good or evil. Genuinely interesting questions about the means and the end are raised. You can talk your way out of a fight by convincing your adversary to commit suicide for the greater good - and, if you do it by using the Charm dialogue options, you get Paragon points for it. The moral dilemmas are actually interesting and problematic, as are the politics. Also, in the hour-long endgame, you have several Talking Pie decisions to make, one of which occurs early in endgame and affects your primary crew. If you've seen that classic Simpsons episode with Alec Baldwin and Ron Howard, than you know what kind of decisions I'm talking about. If you haven't seen it, there's a good chance you're also not the sort who's interested in Mass Effect - but if you are, well, I won't tell you what Talking Pie is...you'll just have a nice, stressful little surprise, and wish you'd saved earlier.. :D I chose to do my first play not as Elly playing Mass Effect, but as a real roleplay, modeled on Alien's Ellen Ripley. A true roleplay tends to be more intimate than distancing, and I raised myself a whole slew of questions as I answered every query with, "what would Ripley do?" - because that's the beauty of the roleplay. I'm not doing it, she is. But, I am. All-in-all, as good for introspection as it is fun. Mass Effect as a whole takes video-game roleplaying to a next level, which is great...but it also means things can get wierder than usual. For example, there is an optional romance sub-plot, a normal RPG nicety. It includes the standard military/horror "let's make love tonight, because tomorrow all organic life may be extinct" clause. However, in a game with fully cinematic conversations, that means that you can end up watching your character and chosen love interest Do It...which, depending on your point of view, is either awesome or creepy (I choose creepy). Potentially, this is a very big apology for the forcibly unrequited love from Knight of the Old Republic II - I can't imagine the slew of angry e-mails and porno fanfic that followed that one - however, I suspect that's not the only motivation. As a female character, you can choose bat for the other team with an exotic same-sex alien. Your Normandy's belowdecks are full of speculation as to your sexual preferences, and I had to undergo two separate conversations to convince hetero love-interest Kaiden that I wasn't a lesbian, and you have to confront the alien directly in order for the rumours to cease. Since, if you play as a male character, there's no same-sex option (or rumours) for you, I'm crying foul on some group of developers/programmers/designers shameless use of Mass Effect as an outlet for their girl-on-girl fantasies. It is interesting to note, though, that said exotic female alien is a complete bimbo - for a research scientist, she's amazingly dimwitted, slow, and full of the kind of inane and stupid dialogue that isn't the norm in this game - if her colouring were different, she would be the personification of the Dumb Blonde. So maybe someone on the development end decide to cry foul themselves.
Exploitation and cacheing aside, my only other complaints with Mass Effect would be that there are too many identical side quests involving hitting a planet, driving around, surveying stuff, and killing mercenaries, and that I'm not sold on this game's land vehicle. The Mako is a solid concept, a fully-armored, six-wheel, low-riding rover that is the means by which you're dropped onto planets, but - Corey and I disagree here - I don't find it handles very well. Probably because of its construction and concept, it's far clunkier and less maneuverable than my reference point for sci-fi game land vehicles, Halo's Warthog. It doesn't pull smooth, fast turns like the Warthog, and I like it less overall. Yes, they're very different vehicles in very different settings - the Mako is built for zero-atmosphere, low-gravity engagements. Still. The Warthog has a horn. When the Warthog gets damaged, its horn sounds like a jalopy horn. Warthog wins.
There's far too much good stuff about Mass Effect that the bad stuff can't possibly override. Some may find the combat too easy; personally, I like that. I don't want hard, stressful, adrenaline-filled combat from an action-RPG, I'll go play Halo 3 (thanks, Glenn!) if that's the sensation I'm after. Still, you can beat the game on "Veteran" to unlock "Hardcore", than beat it on "Hardcore" to unlock "Insane", so the options are there if that floats your boat. The assorted engines (combat, dialogue) are great, the plots and characters are interesting, the environments are gorgeous, and the score combining 90's action-movie music with shades of Babylon 5 doesn't hurt either. For an idea of the game's sense of humour, the music on a planet filled with horrible mutants uses sterotype circus music as its base, capitalizing on the general populace's horror of clowns. Mass Effect is a year or so old now, and can be had for under $20 if you shop right. Then, you can play through it with every single profile, do every endgame possible, and use those saves to influence the world of Mass Effect 2, due out...I don't know when. Well, you'll have a lot to keep you busy while waiting.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
His Name's Jack Carter, and you Don't Want to Meet Him
Actually, you do.
Get Carter (2000), a re-invention of an extremely weird-looking Michael Caine 70's film of the same name, is one of the only revenge films that I support - because it's not actually a revenge film. Starring Sylvester Stallone, Rachel Leigh Cook, John C. McGinley, Alan Cumming, Michael Caine, and Mickey Rourke, Get Carter tells of a weekend in the life of Las Vegas loan shark enforcer Jack Carter (Stallone) as he travels back home for his little brother's funeral. The official line is that Richie was drinking and driving, which immediately fires Jack's suspicious side - he knows his brother didn't do that sort of thing, and besides, Richie was a family man, leaving behind a wife and teenage daughter, Doreen (Cook). Jack's search eventually leads him to a punk internet mogul (Cumming), and, of all places, the world of online porn - even more suspicious now, as this is definitely not something Richie would have been involved in. So who killed him? And why? On top this investigation, and his strained relations with Richie's widow (Miranda Richardson), his boss back in Vegas is pretty pissed at him for taking off for the weekend - and when a mob loan shark is pissed, they don't just give you a pink slip and tell you not to bother showing up for work on Monday.
To say more would ruin not only good flow, but a story that's as well-crafted as it is relevant and heartbreaking. Half the story is detective/enforcement work; the other half focuses on estranged uncle Jack's relationship with his equally wounded niece, Doreen. Don't let an irrational prejudice towards old-school action heroes deter you: Get Carter is one good movie. I might even call it great. Though it could be called a revenge film, it leans rather towards vengeance - which is not at all the same thing - and justice. Stallone's Old Testament theology towards those actions is in full sight here, as much as in any of his pure action films (which Get Carter is not). Something very interesting to watch for is who Jack does and doesn't kill. On top of that, I can't think of another film that not only addresses the epidemic of online porn, but does it in a way that's effective without being exploitative towards the women being exploited. On top of that, it's also, on multiple levels, a redemption story. The script is solid, the acting is sharp, the violence is as violent as it should be - in other words, no glossing over just how ugly someone getting the crap beaten out of them is. What more could you ask for from a drama? There are a few brief, melodramatic editing hiccups, but to let them tarnish the whole of the film would be silly. An afternoon or evening with Get Carter should be plenty to flush any irrational hatred of Sylvester Stallone out of your system - there's no grounds for calling this picture, or his performance, bad on any level.
Get Carter (2000), a re-invention of an extremely weird-looking Michael Caine 70's film of the same name, is one of the only revenge films that I support - because it's not actually a revenge film. Starring Sylvester Stallone, Rachel Leigh Cook, John C. McGinley, Alan Cumming, Michael Caine, and Mickey Rourke, Get Carter tells of a weekend in the life of Las Vegas loan shark enforcer Jack Carter (Stallone) as he travels back home for his little brother's funeral. The official line is that Richie was drinking and driving, which immediately fires Jack's suspicious side - he knows his brother didn't do that sort of thing, and besides, Richie was a family man, leaving behind a wife and teenage daughter, Doreen (Cook). Jack's search eventually leads him to a punk internet mogul (Cumming), and, of all places, the world of online porn - even more suspicious now, as this is definitely not something Richie would have been involved in. So who killed him? And why? On top this investigation, and his strained relations with Richie's widow (Miranda Richardson), his boss back in Vegas is pretty pissed at him for taking off for the weekend - and when a mob loan shark is pissed, they don't just give you a pink slip and tell you not to bother showing up for work on Monday.
To say more would ruin not only good flow, but a story that's as well-crafted as it is relevant and heartbreaking. Half the story is detective/enforcement work; the other half focuses on estranged uncle Jack's relationship with his equally wounded niece, Doreen. Don't let an irrational prejudice towards old-school action heroes deter you: Get Carter is one good movie. I might even call it great. Though it could be called a revenge film, it leans rather towards vengeance - which is not at all the same thing - and justice. Stallone's Old Testament theology towards those actions is in full sight here, as much as in any of his pure action films (which Get Carter is not). Something very interesting to watch for is who Jack does and doesn't kill. On top of that, I can't think of another film that not only addresses the epidemic of online porn, but does it in a way that's effective without being exploitative towards the women being exploited. On top of that, it's also, on multiple levels, a redemption story. The script is solid, the acting is sharp, the violence is as violent as it should be - in other words, no glossing over just how ugly someone getting the crap beaten out of them is. What more could you ask for from a drama? There are a few brief, melodramatic editing hiccups, but to let them tarnish the whole of the film would be silly. An afternoon or evening with Get Carter should be plenty to flush any irrational hatred of Sylvester Stallone out of your system - there's no grounds for calling this picture, or his performance, bad on any level.
There's More to Life than Oblivion...
...for example, Sylvester Stallone's newest project, and a study revealing that teenagers are bad at keeping promises. But The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion (Xbox 360) is sure keeping me (happily) busy, and we don't even have the Game of the Year edition.
Seriously, it's great to have a game again. I'd exhausted everything I like for original Xbox some time ago, and nothing is quite as relaxing/entertaining as a good action/adventure RPG. I love to game because it involves mental engagement, while using my hands at the same time - the perfect entertainment for a fidgety artist who likes to think about stuff.
But enough about that, it's time for some odds and ends as I slowly return to reading the usual websites.
First up, the serious stuff. If you grew up in a church in the 90's, or are growing up in one now, or your favourite hobby is keeping track of things the Church does that you think are stupid, you've probably heard a lot about abstinence/purity pledges, which is what happens when a group of teens say, usually at some sort of youth group event, that they promise to not have sex outside of marriage. Two conflicting studies have recently been published, one suggesting that purity pledges are effective, one suggesting the opposite. The article linked primarily explores the latter study, and critics and proponents of the teen abstinence pledge are, according to the (article) author, most concerned with what this may say about the quality of sex education for teens.
Now, I haven't researched the long-term impact of purity pledges, but I strongly suspect that bad or unsubstantial sex ed is not the problem here. About five years ago, a study conducted for a Toronto school board revealed that nearly 70% of students - who were not lacking state-sponsored sex education - believed that AIDS is curable. It's not like no one told them that, repeatedly - heck, it was plastered all over buses, with celebrities advertisting and everything. My point is, for one thing, teenagers are bad at paying attention to things authority figures (ie. teachers and parents) tell them. It seems to me that, in the case of purity pledges, the core of the matter is not sex education, but the fact that the state of the public vows of these kids is reflecting the state of the public vows of most adults (I refer here to the divorce rate). Were I a parent, my concern after reading this study would be not to check on the state of my child's sex ed, but the state of his maturity and integrity - his ability to keep a promise, the value (or lack thereof) he places on giving his word, the value he places on promises in general. There's something you don't get taught in school.
On a completely different note, Mickey Rourke (The Wrestler, Get Carter), has signed on for his second Sylvester Stallone project. This blog post on Entertainment Weekly is expectedly snarky and snobby about this announcement, so much so the poster didn't even deign to properly spell the name of the new film. Due in 2010, The Expendables is an action flick that will also star Jason Statham, Jet Li, some UFC dude, Dolph Lundgren, Forrest Whittaker, and probably Sir Ben Kingsley. That kind of cast, in my mind, exposes the rather ignorant disdain - present in that post - that's prevalent towards guys like Stallone, or Schwarzenegger before him. The point I'm trying to make here is, if Stallone were really some moronic joke, bad at his job, washed up, etc., he wouldn't have that cast. It simply wouldn't happen. Jason Statham may make films of dubious quality, but he's a hot ticket, and hot tickets don't jump on sinking ships.
And anyways, in my mind, any publication that sanctions blog posts extolling the benefits of Gossip Girl has no business criticizing ol' Sly. These are also the same people who sanctioned a list of 25 most rockin' TV doctors that doesn't include Doctor Who.
Ah, it's good to be back in the pundit saddle again. Now excuse me while I go kick my husband off the Xbox.
Seriously, it's great to have a game again. I'd exhausted everything I like for original Xbox some time ago, and nothing is quite as relaxing/entertaining as a good action/adventure RPG. I love to game because it involves mental engagement, while using my hands at the same time - the perfect entertainment for a fidgety artist who likes to think about stuff.
But enough about that, it's time for some odds and ends as I slowly return to reading the usual websites.
First up, the serious stuff. If you grew up in a church in the 90's, or are growing up in one now, or your favourite hobby is keeping track of things the Church does that you think are stupid, you've probably heard a lot about abstinence/purity pledges, which is what happens when a group of teens say, usually at some sort of youth group event, that they promise to not have sex outside of marriage. Two conflicting studies have recently been published, one suggesting that purity pledges are effective, one suggesting the opposite. The article linked primarily explores the latter study, and critics and proponents of the teen abstinence pledge are, according to the (article) author, most concerned with what this may say about the quality of sex education for teens.
Now, I haven't researched the long-term impact of purity pledges, but I strongly suspect that bad or unsubstantial sex ed is not the problem here. About five years ago, a study conducted for a Toronto school board revealed that nearly 70% of students - who were not lacking state-sponsored sex education - believed that AIDS is curable. It's not like no one told them that, repeatedly - heck, it was plastered all over buses, with celebrities advertisting and everything. My point is, for one thing, teenagers are bad at paying attention to things authority figures (ie. teachers and parents) tell them. It seems to me that, in the case of purity pledges, the core of the matter is not sex education, but the fact that the state of the public vows of these kids is reflecting the state of the public vows of most adults (I refer here to the divorce rate). Were I a parent, my concern after reading this study would be not to check on the state of my child's sex ed, but the state of his maturity and integrity - his ability to keep a promise, the value (or lack thereof) he places on giving his word, the value he places on promises in general. There's something you don't get taught in school.
On a completely different note, Mickey Rourke (The Wrestler, Get Carter), has signed on for his second Sylvester Stallone project. This blog post on Entertainment Weekly is expectedly snarky and snobby about this announcement, so much so the poster didn't even deign to properly spell the name of the new film. Due in 2010, The Expendables is an action flick that will also star Jason Statham, Jet Li, some UFC dude, Dolph Lundgren, Forrest Whittaker, and probably Sir Ben Kingsley. That kind of cast, in my mind, exposes the rather ignorant disdain - present in that post - that's prevalent towards guys like Stallone, or Schwarzenegger before him. The point I'm trying to make here is, if Stallone were really some moronic joke, bad at his job, washed up, etc., he wouldn't have that cast. It simply wouldn't happen. Jason Statham may make films of dubious quality, but he's a hot ticket, and hot tickets don't jump on sinking ships.
And anyways, in my mind, any publication that sanctions blog posts extolling the benefits of Gossip Girl has no business criticizing ol' Sly. These are also the same people who sanctioned a list of 25 most rockin' TV doctors that doesn't include Doctor Who.
Ah, it's good to be back in the pundit saddle again. Now excuse me while I go kick my husband off the Xbox.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)