Archive for category Writing
Tumblr Tuesday – 02/11/14
Posted by kjohnson1585 in Animation, Television, Uncategorized, Writing on February 11, 2014
Welcome to another Tumblr Tuesday! Enjoy!
— A Simpsons gag gets a few people talking about the downside of providing everyone with Valentine cards:
http://totalmediabridge.tumblr.com/post/75695311849/tainted-petals-glory-to-cobrastan
— Steve Harvey does not like to be touched:
http://totalmediabridge.tumblr.com/post/75837728598/whitepeoplesaidwhat-phrankles-lol-black
— Johnny Bravo was great. Seth MacFarlane, I swear, was funny once:
http://totalmediabridge.tumblr.com/post/75901132667/narutosexmagic666-im-rewatching-johnny-bravo
— And finally, a British person doesn’t understand sweet tea, then is shot down by some good ol’ history:
http://totalmediabridge.tumblr.com/post/76259406637/starkinglyhandsome-cloudyobsession
Gargoyles – “High Noon/Outfoxed”
Posted by kjohnson1585 in Animation, Childhood Revisited, Television, Writing on February 10, 2014
Welcome back, Kevin! Thanks, Kevin!
It’s good to finally get back into Gargoyles recaps, especially after a great, four-part saga. “City of Stone,” as I mentioned before, won me over to the Gargoyles fandom. The first season was a bit shaky, but the second season, while awkward at points, at least had the kind of forward momentum that one looks for in shows like this. I can finally say that I understand what people see in this show.
Or, at least I did.
Continuity really wasn’t a thing in the 90s, really, especially in cartoons. There were no DVRs or Youtube to catch up on missed episodes or recap current narrative threads. I might be rehashing this, but this is actually an important point, especially after watching “High Noon” and “Outfoxed.” In the era of Separate TV, when shows were watched weekly or daily, making sure an episode stood on its own wasn’t just optional – it was paramount. Overarching narrative threads are nice and all, but it’s important to remember that such threads have to be planned in (ideally) excruciating details. My point is, as detailed as Gargoyles is, I have severe doubts that Greg Weisman planned the entire run of this show with the level of detail that his fans may think.
When I was in LA, I spoke with a contemporary of Weisman. He was particularly adamant against shows being so beholden to continuity, because, in classic TV, that kind of planning was really nonexistent, except for large scale dramas. There’s a lot to be said of the narrative connections between Batman, Superman, Batman Beyond, Justice League, and Justice League Unlimited, but let’s be clear, only a certain percentage of it was planned. (It helps that comic vets worked on the Marvel Animated Universe, a group known for connecting past works with apparent ease). The contemporary alluded to the fact that Weisman and his crew were more or less scrambling to tie up loose ends more than prepping future story reveals. It just was a different approach to story telling in the 90s. And while “High Noon” felt right, moving forward with an intriguing followup to “City of Stone,” “Outfoxed” is a prime example of that scramble to tie up loose ends, taking a step backwards, both visually and narratively.
“High Noon” shares little with the movie that hosts its name. It’s the story of Elisa, really, a woman who’s lack of sleep in this episode masks a more internal struggle of a person simply tired of it all. Between Derek, the gargoyles, Xanatos, Demona, Macbeth, and a host of other crazy people, Elisa, understandably, just wants it to end and return to a normal life. Early in the episode, Elisa tells a now-literate Broadway and Hudson that she chose the badge because she knows what’s right; she’s no hero, she’s just doing her job. It’s a bit on the nose but it’s something that needed to be said – after all the insanity, Elisa is hanging in there because it’s the life she chose, the life she has to live with.
The gargoyles struggle to return Coldstone back to his former self, with the three souls stuck inside Coldstone’s body back in “Legion” due to science and magic. The internal struggle inside Coldstone continues to fall flat, especially since we know so little of his lover and the third evil gargoyle, who is apparently just swooping down on occasion to disrupt the lovebirds? There’s no meat here, and if the writers were scrambling to tie up anything, this should have been one of the top priorities.
As the sun rises, Elisa tracks some strangers in the police station downstairs, only to discover they’re Macbeth and human Demona. They knock her unconscious and fly off with “the package.” Things are really weird here. What package? How did Macbeth and Demona discover the gargoyles home turf? Why did Demona, with a perfect opportunity to destroy the stone gargoyles, not do so? Why in the world are they working together? Of course, we know it has something to do with the Weird Sisters. The question is what, and how far? This is starting to approach “Xanatos-gambit” levels of control, but at least the Weird Sisters have shown their abilities and insight to be way beyond mortal souls. That being said, there aren’t any real parameters given to the sisters’ magic powers, so it’s hard to really get a bead on why they’d enact their plan in such a fashion. More on this later.
Right now, though, Elisa tells the gargoyles what happened – that they took Coldstone – and the team goes after him. The animation here continues to be gorgeous; the fight scenes are top notch, but Demona’s human/gargoyle transformations are the real highlight. There’s a real sense of foreboding and tension as the gargoyles explore Macbeth’s spooky mansion (especially knowing how well Macbeth can set traps). And while it seems the team gets the upper hand, it’s revealed that they were fooled all along when Coldstone – in the possession of the nameless evil gargoyle – betrays them. In all honesty, this should have been a Coldstone episode. We should have been focused on the resuscitated gargoyle and given clarification on who his lover and rival are. Instead, we’re presented with an uncomfortably clingy Coldstone who has no motivation to gain control of his body, until his lover (in no small part helped by the Weird Sisters) talks him into it. Again, though, since we haven’t learned a lick about these characters since “Legion,” this just feel forced.
Demona teases Elisa to come to a certain locale at high noon to save the captured gargoyles, which seems insanely out of character, but there’s a purpose to it all. Here is where Elisa bears her soul, her desire to just get away from it all. An officer named Morgan helps to regain her sense of purpose and duty – a long running theme of the show – and while this approaches “magical Negro” levels of schmaltz, I’m willing to let it go. She rushes to the location and has a one-on-one fight with human Demona, who she beats by doing the same move twice. Meanwhile, Coldstone – the real Coldstone – is convinced to regain control of his body, forces Macbeth and Demona to run away, and then scurries off himself to achieve the victory of his internal struggle. I assume it involves learning his lover’s and rival’s names? [Okay, maybe not names since they don’t have them, but can we at least learn something about them?]
As Elisa finally gets her sleep, Demona and Macbeth break down their real spoils – the Grimorum, the Eye of Odin, and Phoenix Gate. It’s here that they finally become self-aware, confused as to the full extent of their plan and even why they’re working together. They’re just about to kick each others’ asses before the Weird Sisters show up, freezes them in place, take the spoils for themselves, and warp everyone away. Yes, it was all their hugely, wild manipulative plan to ultimately get their hands on the goods. This is important I presume. The Sisters are not a Greek chorus, a group of symbolic Fates who work to affirm or deny personal stakes and desires. They have a specific objective in mind, powered by their control of Macbeth and Demona, and a bit of solid manipulative apparition. But what is the full extent of their powers? Considering all the things they can do, is this really the best plan they could come up with?
I suppose it doesn’t matter. Elisa gets her beauty rest. She earned it.
“Outfoxed” hurts a little. It kinda seems stupid. It’s definitely the most forced episode of the run so far, creating by far the most ludicrous setup and ham-fisted metaphor in the show’s run. Remember back in “Awakenings,” when Xanatos fooled Goliath and Demona to attack Cyberbiotics’ flying Fortress, and Demona destroyed because she hates everyone in the world? Well, Cyberbiotics has a new Fortress running. Goliath “thinks” Xanatos may attack it, so he follows the thing, all exposed and everything. Cyberbiotics leader, Halcyon Renard, a creepy guy copping Professor Xavior’s hovering wheelchair, sends a legion of robots at him, besting him in a really terribly animated aerial fight, and capturing him.
Then begins a series of speeches on responsibility and accountability. This is just really, really awkward. I mean, I get it. I really love it when a piece of entertainment acknowledges the full extent of its setups and developments. (Almost Human never calls attention to the fact that its police officers routinely kill its criminals in cold blood, which implies a Judge Dredd-like dystopian worldview but never comments on it, while Sly Cooper 4 brilliantly called out Sly’s bullshit – he can rob from all the evil criminals he wanst, the fact is that he’s still a thief). It’s clear that’s what they’re doing here. But watching Renard just lecture Goliath about taking account for his role in destroying the Fortress is a prime example of telling, not showing. It doesn’t help that the animation by Hong Ying Animation is subpar, with really wonky perspective shots and off-model poses. Without anything really motivating it, like say, a cliched but entertaining thirst for revenge, it comes off petulant and whiny. Oh, speaking of whiny:
Renard: “No excuses, creature. Learn to take responsibilities for your actions, and stop whining!”
Goliath: “A gargoyle doesn’t whine. He ROARS!”
Yeesh. That’s a cringe-worthy exchange from a show that’s rather on point with its dialogue.
This should have been a lesson that Goliath learns on his own, if he should have learned it at all. Having Goliath stuck in a cage and lectured at is insane. Maybe, just maybe, he could have visited the various humans who was hurt in the first Fortress crash and saw their pain and suffering as being innocent victims to a vicious attack. After all, Goliath isn’t Demona. He KNOWS that humans, while flawed, are suspect to the same emotions as their own kind. It’s quite possible he may understand this in theory. SEEING that kind of pain and limitation in humanity would allow Goliath to understand a new, tangible truth to the fragility of humanity, and how his actions, no matter how manipulated, led to it. But no, “Outfoxed” take the “Shame on You” route via an inane, consistent lesson force-fed to the gargoyle before he finally swallows. And suddenly, Renard and Goliath are friends. This would never work on humans; I doubt the quick-to-anger gargoyle clan member would be so susceptible to it.
The real point of this episode is filler and more setting up. There’s Renard’s assistant, Preston Vogel, who resembles Owen so much that it can’t be a coincidence. Brothers? Clones? The episode doesn’t say, but I’m sure we’ll get to it. The real story lies with Fox, who we learn is Renard’s daughter and with child. The best part though is witnessing Xanatos and Fox work. Their relationship still functions perfunctorily, two machines continuing to wheel and deal sans any passion between them. Xanatos’ blase response to his wife’s pregnancy (and Fox’s own stoicism) is creepy but perfect, as is their plan to sabotage the second Fortress via Vogel, ruin Renard, and take over Cyberbiotics. Vogel proves to be more loyal to Renard in the end, assisting to save the Fortress and confessing to his treachery. This leads to a slightly-less-but-still-ham-fisted conversation where Goliath convinces Renard that Vogel’s confession proves that humans still possess the kind of integrity that Vogel believes his species has lost. Again, I understand what the show is going for, and it’s something worth learning, but “Outfoxed” fails to make that theme work.
That theme is put at the forefront when Fox and Renard talk, revealing their disturbing relationship. It’s clear Renard’s obsession with integrity and accountability stems from his daughter’s demeanor, who would rather forcibly take over his father’s company instead of inheriting it. It’s definitely a strange thing but on par with what we know of Fox. With a little bit of tweaking and rearranging, this could have been a stronger episode with a more resonant theme, but as it is, it’s a lot of posturing and lecturing, and no one likes to be lectured to.
“High Noon” A-/”Outfoxed” B-
What Happened to the Dynamic FPS?
Posted by kjohnson1585 in Uncategorized, Video Games, Writing on February 6, 2014
In No One Lives Forever 2, the second in the NOLF trilogy that seemed to have evaporated from the public conscious, there’s a level where you, as super secret spy Cate Archer, follow a lead to a remote station in the middle of Antarctica. You begin the level exploring the base, gun in hand, ready to take on oncoming enemies. But the base is quiet. Eerily (and obviously) reminiscent of The Thing, you work your way through the disheveled locale, with massive holes in the wall and scientists dying in front of you, not before pleading out that “he needs to be stopped.” For five to ten minutes, you encounter nothing but an ominous foreboding.
You soon find some paperwork in an office way in the back of the facility, indicating that the base is being used to breed super soldiers – and surprise, surprise, one of them went haywire. Sure enough, that very monstrous beast crashes through the wall, and you have to sneak back out the base, avoiding this lumbering creature and his powerful laser beam blaster. You have to quickly decode electronic panels to open gates, rewire circuitry to open other doorways, sneak over the creature on a thin set of pipes, and even blow a hole in the floor to regain entry into another section of the base. You spend the whole level exploring and then hauling ass, and you don’t even have to fire a single shot (since the monster is indestructible).
No One Lives Forever 2 offered quite a dynamic set of gameplay scenarios within levels that required a lot more than shooting. One level has you sneaking inside the Indian branch office of the villainous group, H.A.R.M. Another has you participating in some spy games of your own, meeting with assets and bugging phones, while avoiding the police. One has you running for you life as ninja assassins chase you down in Akron, Ohio, of all places. Of course there are the levels where you shoot a lot of badguys. But there are plenty of areas where you have to be stealthy, clever, lucky, and smart. You have to pay close attention to the specificity of your objectives and the details of your surroundings. No One Lives Forever 2 is somewhat more dynamic than its predecessor, No One Lives Forever, but even that had its versatile level objectives, among which includes: sneaking around an office while not getting caught, exploring an destroyed underwater base in scuba gear, and simply participating in a Q&A with an idiot masquerading as a leader of an evil organization.
So whatever happened to the dynamic FPS?
Int the late 90s, the complaints about FPS’s being mindless shooters were heard loud and clear; as a result, brilliant, tactical first-person shooters pushed past the “shoot everything that moves” mentality and opened up the objective pool. 1997’s Goldeneye was one of the first games to expand in such a way, involving levels where you had to escape prisons, sneak into damns, and drive a goddamn tank. Rare’s followup, Perfect Dark, opened up things even more. PC games such as System Shock 2 and Deus Ex completely changed the FPS genre into a thinking man’s game of choices and decisions, pushing the possibilities of the genre into the stratosphere. Then there were The Chronicles of Riddick games, which turned FP stealth into an artform, years before Dishonored’s tightly-controlled schematics hit the shelves. Half-Life retooled the FPS into an epic, cross-base adventure, a one-man-against-the-world saga that kept players on their toes. Even Nintendo got into the genre with Metroid; millions were surprised to find the Metroid Prime series a enjoyable, challenging, and varied version of Metroid that was retooled perfectly for the FPS genre. And Red Faction, this writer’s favorite FPS and one of his favorite games of all time, upped the ante of Half-Life by weaving a wild tale of a rebellion on Mars turned disastrous as monsters are exposed and mercenaries turn reckless. Red Faction’s brilliance was very rarely telling you what to do; figuring out how to progress made every successful moment feel earned.
Creeping along in the background during all this was Hitler. Well, not quite. But among these dynamic FPS’s were a swath of World War II shooters, comically marketed as “historic, reverent, and significant,” in that they truly thought they were honoring soldiers by making you a nameless, Nazi killing machine (at least the underrated Return to Castle Wolfenstein reveled in its campy ridiculousness – which, I may add, was also wonderfully dynamic with its objectives). It’s no wonder that these games fell by the wayside rather fast. Even though they were enjoyable for the FPS genre, they were really just generic shooters wrapped in historical dressing. There’s only so many things you could do with WWII.
Yet instead of returning to broad, fun-themed games like ’70 spy games or Mars, things that might be new or clever or versatile, game creators did was they’re always wont to do: copy, copy, copy. Disappointingly, Insomniac Games piggybacked on Half-Life design with its Resistance series, which had its own moments but ultimately was a graphically rich game where you killed a bunch of aliens (predictably, Insomniac ended the series after the third ones). Then there’s Halo, which straight-up removed any kind of dynamic level design, hyping up the admittedly-well-done multiplayer and forgoing anything like, say, Master Chief taking out someone non-lethally. EA and Activision, meanwhile, cozied in on the patriotic surge in the post-9/11 era, “honoring” modern soldiers in their games where they kill nameless brown people. People loved them, and so they went buddy-buddy with actual weapon contractors, turning straight-forward military shooters into super-powered killing squads in magic-technology landscapes, of explosions galore within their Call of Duty/Battlefield franchises. In the end, FPS’s became one of two things: hyper-realistic battles in the near future or intergalactic space shooters, where you may have to hit a switch here or there, or maybe plant a bomb in this one spot. Gone are the silly side conversations or investigative elements, the plotting around unkillable enemies or inventing a way to escape confinement. Stealth may be the sole survivor of the dynamic FPS, but you know it’ll take an immediate back seat once you grab that assault rifle.
Strangely enough, some of the most notable FPSs of today have focused on one powerful game mechanic and executed it in perfect fashion. Dishonored, as mentioned above, made stealth into an excellently workable strategy; stealth in FPS was always awkwardly handled up until that point (NOLF and Riddick did well-enough, but even they had their flaws). Portal, a brilliant game in its own right, nailed the visual puzzle genre with an incredible narrative experience. Mirror’s Edge utilized parkour as a gaming mechanism, which, while flawed, sought to create its own worldview and novel approach to movement. And Bioshock/Bioshock Infinite uses the FPS genre to explore a big-picture topic and interactive theme, forcing gamers to recontextualize their adventures in a new, thoughtful light.
Yet, as great as these games are, I wouldn’t call them “dynamic”. Their gaming aesthetic changes little over the course of the game. You rarely readjust your style of play or thinking to re-orient yourself to newer, different objectives. Levels aren’t what you could call varied. These games do one thing and they do that one thing well, but rarely are you or your character pushed in a new direction. Portal is entirely about utilizing portals to progress. Half-Life 2 is expansive but lacks the sense of urgency and chaos of its predecessor. Mirror’s Edge only has its parkour, which many people felt needed refining. The Bioshock games are graphical fetch-quests. And we all know how wildly limited Halo, Call of Duty, and Battlefield are.
I must emphasize that these games are not bad. In fact, they are quite excellent. But they all focus on a singular gimmick or approach, using a singular mechanical concept throug-out the whole game. You approach areas specifically know that, in some way, you have to either use the portal gun, or make a jump, find some items, or shoot some bad guys. Rarely are there alternate paths, or tricky areas, or significant changes in the story that demand a significant change in how to progress through an area. There may be a vehicle you have to use, but beyond that, there’s no real change-up of the gaming style. There’s no dynamism.
We can continue this observation through other games as well. Crysis gives you a super-powered, multi-capable suit of armor, but you won’t have to ever sneak into a civic building or, negotiate out of dangerous situation. The completely ignored Singularity gave you an item that allowed you to change the temporal properties of items and enemies, but you were still killing them, instead of using it to solve any wild or clever time puzzles. Not all games are like this, though. Spec Ops: The Line sought to put the mindless killing into a moral perspective, letting your more vicious decisions mean something. And the newest Deus Ex: Human Revolution, was built up the very foundation of approaching every level with a choice (somewhat undermined by its experience points system).
Maybe the problems are the stories – or rather, the approach to the stories. Spy stories are ripe with various objectives, allowing Goldeneye and NOLF to inject them in their missions. Chronicles of Riddick just could have been about a tough guy killing everyone in a space prison, but the game makers figured out a way to utilize Riddick’s abilities while at the same time, create an environment of interaction and reaction. Games like Metroid Prime, Half-Life, and Red Faction instilled a self-contained world barely holding itself together, leaving you to use your wits and skills to survive it. You travel through the world as the story happens around you (and in the background – one of my favorite parts of the first Metroid Prime game is when you arrive at the Space Pirates stronghold and discover all their writings denouncing and utterly hating your arrival). Everyone knows how brilliant and diverse Deus Ex and System Shock are.
Halo, Call of Duty, and Battlefield approach their gameplay on stopping nameless terrorists and onslaughts of aliens (their emphasis on multiplayer doesn’t help). Half-Life 2 seemed a lot more structured than the free-world spirit of the first one (remember that part when your warp like three weeks into the future and suddenly have to go around blowing up those giant Combine war machines? Talk about a sudden tonal shift). Portal and Portal 2 focus on puzzles and hilarious dialogue unfortunately doesn’t allow much room for any other gameplay types – we don’t even get a solid chase sequence. Many words have been written about the disappointing elements of Mirror’s Edge and Crysis (we don’t even talk about the latter series anymore after all the hype of the first one), and the Bioshock series is discussed more about what it represents than the actual game itself.
Captain Jack, the third game in the NOLF trilogy, was a horrendous disappointment, which seemed more like a temporary placeholder for the real third NOLF game. Yet it represents the fall of the dynamic FPS, where your character indeed blasts an endless number of H.A.R.M. agents, forgoing any spy-type activities. Perhaps Monolith Productions saw the writing on the wall, attempting to give the public what they ultimately wanted before they went under. I miss those games, the kind that kept you on your toes, that expected you to shoot in one level and be sneaky in another; to chase down a villain in one area and to be chased by a villain in another; to walk freely in a populated spot in one section and to tread carefully in a scary spot in another one. Here’s to the return of the dynamic FPS in the future generation. Lord knows they have the computing capacity to make it happen.