New Classic Gaming: the Fatal Frame series.

I'm happy with my haunted house-fit.

A modern classic series I’d always been interested in, but for whatever reason never taken the plunge and played through, is Fatal Frame. I finally decided to this past week. I ended up playing Fatal Frame and Fatal Frame 2: Crimson Butterfly via PlayStation Network, and 零： 眞紅の蝶 (ZERO: Deep Crimson Butterfly), the Japan-only Wii remake of the second game. I own Fatal Frame 3: The Tormented, but I have yet to set up my PS2 and take it for a spin.

Horror games, like horror movies, walk a fine line between scary and ridiculous. Ultimately the situations are stupid and unrealistic, so the game has to elevate itself to such a level that it either transcends the inherent mediocrity, or owns up to the silliness of the whole thing to make it an enjoyable experience. Fatal Frame does the former.

This girl does not do escorts.

It takes a Silent Hill approach in that its strength is in its atmosphere. You might argue the narrative is SH’s real strength, and I don’t disagree (certainly in regard to SH2), but no other game has used atmosphere as well as SH has, except perhaps FF. The first game is a haunted house and the second takes place in a haunted village.

The house is everything you’d expect with a dimly lit, decrepit looking why-the-hell-would-anyone-ever-decorate-a-room-this-way aesthetic with many inexplicably locked doors (though, as a rare exception to the rule, every single door does eventually open in FF1, unlike the forever closedness of much of SH), each of which require a ridiculous, themed key. So judging by the precedent set by Resident Evil, standard fare.

The town in the second game is as quiet as it is creepy, and its small size lends a claustrophobic air to everything. In fact, I think it feels more claustrophobic in Fatal Frame 2 than in the haunted house of the first game. The town is traditional Japanese, which means you have houses very close together with little space in between to travel, which makes it feel as if you’re just in a wide hallway when you walk outside. And it’s here that you find yourself armed with only a camera, cornered by ghosts.

Small hallway, weird controls, creepy-ass twins... check.

Battles are frequently tense due to the small space you have to use while your camera for nearly the entire game is much too weak for the circumstances. Like Final Fantasy XIII, normal and even weak ghost fights take two or three times as long to finish than they should, and due to your character being a mid-teens girl, you don’t have much resistance or speed against these attacks. You frequently get hit and sometimes even these normal ghosts can take half of your health with one hit. Sure, it adds to the overall sense of desperation and forces you to evolve your strategy to account for chronic low health, but goddamn is it infuriating sometimes.

And that brings me to my next point: appalling controls. Sometimes. The first game is bad. Nigh unplayable at times, actually. In battle, I mean. Moving and item collection/usage is standard across the games, even if the purpose of the spirit stones is absolutely impossible to discern in the first game. But besides collecting all those damn things and not understanding exactly why, the biggest problem is with the first person perspective camera controls. As soon as you bring out the camera and begin aiming, the left stick controls the view, and the right stick moves your character. That’s right: for some idiot reason, the designers thought it made sense to reverse the analog sticks when you go into battle mode, where reflexes and memorized controls exist to keep you from doing these kind of mental gymnastics and allow you to succeed. During the many boss battles, the controls become a serious handicap as your natural sense of moving with the left stick and looking with the right stick, as in every other game ever, is forcibly curtailed into this totally unintuitive scheme. And as such, the game becomes very difficult, and you exhaust your health, and film, supplies and become very frustrated.

Recent selfie.

FF2 on PS2 addresses and fixes that problem and keeps a uniform scheme no matter what view you’re employing, but the Wii remake adds all new control issues. Thankfully, it's not so much a matter of intuition as it is just a completely different experience. As it uses the Wiimote, it expects you to be a good soldier and constantly hold the controller at ready position, which keeps your flashlight level and your character steady. But if you let your hand move slightly or drop for a rest against your leg, depending on what you're doing, it can spell total disaster. In ghost encounters, you control your movement and your left-to-right looking with the nunchuck, but you control your camera and your up-and-down movement with the Wiimote, so you're kinda back to the original weird problem from FF1 where your controls, which had been controlled all on one hand, are now split across both hands, and it's not incredibly intuitive as to which hand does what. My real problem, however, is the inability to delegate the controls manually. I hate that I am forced to use broken controls. 

As I said, however, the PS2 control scheme was fixed for FF2, but now it’s other things that make the game difficult to play, like an unnecessary pause between coming out of picture mode and being able to move, and no chance of strafing when some of these ridiculously fast ghosts come at you. But that’s game design, not controls, anymore. Really, the rest of the problems I have with this series as a whole come down to nit-picky frustrations when I’ve made a mistake or not properly conserved film and am down to the least powerful film, which is about as effective as a Q-Tip against a meteor.

Q-tip and a meteor?

But it’s excellent. It’s creepy, and beautiful, and interesting. And it is absolutely the franchise I want to come out next for Wii U. If ever the Wii U’s controller was perfect for any game, where your weapon is an exorcismal point and click camera, this one is it.

An analysis of title screens: Metroid, Mario, and... Spec Ops: The Line

Title screens are obsolete in today's gaming industry. They're a holdover from the days of arcades, when the screen had to show something even when no one was playing it. Today, games could easily cut straight to the main menu. But in reverence to their roots, virtually every modern video game still has the classic title screen, with the game logo in big letters and "PRESS START" beneath it, replacing the "INSERT COIN" of yore.

And it's kind of beautiful. Why do we need title screens in 2014? They serve no practical purpose. I guess they just look cool. They're gaming's equivalent of the title page at the beginning of a novel--unnecessary, but a time-honored tradition.

When you think of your favorite games, even ones you haven't played in years, you can likely conjure up the image of the title screen in your head. They usually play with iconic, mood-setting music in the background, and when they sit idle for a few seconds often go to "demo mode" or "attract mode," where they show video of gameplay or a cutscene introducing you to the storyline.

As games have progressed, they do new and wonderful things with their title screens. Let's take a gander at title screens over the years, beginning with my favorite series.

Metroid

The title screen for the original 1986 Metroid is most notable for its music. In an era when game soundtracks were all about upbeat, hummable melodies, Metroid was the first to go for dissonance. It sets a foreboding tone for the whole game, particularly interesting considering it was made by Nintendo, best known for family-friendly fun. If you wait long enough, though, the dissonant music evolves into a memorable tune. Metroid's title screen also gives you the only story information you ever get, aside from the game's instruction manual.

Super Metroid's title screen is a work of art. It begins with an intro. "1994" flashes across the screen, proudly displaying the year the game was made. Not many games do that. "NINTENDO"... "PRESENTS"... "METROID 3"... and then the main title screen with the huge SUPER METROID logo finally appears. The ominous music coalesces into a revised version of the creepy piano tune from the original Metroid title screen. How great is that! I enjoy that "METROID 3" appears before the title screen; Super Metroid is never referred to as "Metroid 3" apart from this little intro sequence. Something about it makes the intro more cinematic and epic to me.

And then there's the actual content of the title screen. We see what looks like a laboratory, with an infant Metroid encased in glass. It's the baby Metroid that Samus saved at the end of Metroid II! It's so tiny and harmless! But... there are dead bodies strewn across the lab floor. What happened here?! Like a great opening line in a novel, this title screen hooks you in to the story.

It gets even better. In the opening level of the game, you walk through the very room depicted in the title screen... but now the glass is shattered and the Metroid is nowhere to be seen. STORY SYNERGY!

Mario

Nintendo's sliiightly more popular franchise, Mario, also has an interesting history with title screens. From early on in the series, the title screens have presented the games as theatrical productions. Here's the opening of Super Mario Bros. 3:

This changes the dynamic of the entire franchise, implying that everything happening onscreen is actually a staged show for an audience. I guess that explains why Mario and Bowser are arch-nemises but then they go golfing and go-karting together the next day. The Paper Mario spinoff series would take the theater concept a step further and actually show the audience watching your gameplay.

When Nintendo finally took the leap to 3D with the Nintendo 64, it launched with the seminal Super Mario 64. The game didn't hesitate to introduce players to the third dimension immediately: the title screen consists of a giant three-dimensional Mario head that you could poke and prod to your heart's content, showcasing the new console's graphical capabilities.

This was mind-blowing in 1996.

Spec Ops: The Line

Fast forward to the twenty-first century. Modern games do all sorts of nifty things with their title screens. My favorite in recent memory is Yager Development's Spec Ops: The Line.

At first glance, Spec Ops is a generic dudebro military shooter like Call of Duty and Army of Two. But as I've written about here and people have talked about elsewhere, it's much, much more than that. The title screen captures it perfectly. On the surface it seems like a standard war-torn Middle Eastern background. But huh? The American flag is upside down! The title screen changes depending on how far into the story you are, and the music... is Jimi Hendrix's famous live performance of "The Star-Spangled Banner." In the late '60s it sparked huge controversy, seen as a twisted version of patriotism and a commentary on the Vietnam War. Spec Ops is in many ways a modern-day adaptation of the iconic Vietnam War film Apocalypse Now, so the song fits the game on multiple levels.

Do we need title screens in 2014? No. Do we want them? I couldn't live without their logo-filled goodness. What do you think is the role of the title screen in modern gaming? What title screens are particularly memorable to you?

Revisiting the legacy of Metroid II: Return of Samus

I've already written extensively about Metroid, Nintendo's black sheep. Metroid II: Return of Samus, released in 1991 on the Game Boy, is the black sheep of the black sheep series. Even among Metroid fans it's often overlooked, as most Game Boy games are. But Metroid II is as pivotal in shaping the series as the original Metroid and the opus Super Metroid. This oft-forgotten sequel is fascinating to explore as a statement of design philosophy.

Let's begin with the title. Metroid II. Most handheld iterations of major series are marketed as spinoffs, rather than true sequels. The Mario games on the Game Boy were called Super Mario Land to differentiate them as inferior to the larger Super Mario WORLD on the big-boy Super Nintendo. The portable version of Assassin's Creed III was given the "Liberation" subtitle to make sure people knew it wasn't the REAL Assassin's Creed III, which could only be found on home consoles.

But Metroid on the Game Boy was simply called Metroid II. It's no coincidence Metroid creator Gunpei Yokoi was also the creator of the Game Boy. Metroid II was proof you could make "real" games on handheld systems, not just spinoffs and puzzle games.

It's not a masterpiece. Due to the limitations of the hardware, Metroid II features bland level design and recycled art assets. Many of the environments look almost identical to one another, which is all the more frustrating since there's no in-game map. And the music, while continuing the atmospheric dissonance pioneered in the original Metroid, is terribly subpar by the series' standards.

It's not a cartridge, it's a Game Pak!

There's so much to digest, though. Metroid II introduced tons of concepts and gameplay mechanics that would go on to become staples of the series, from save stations and Samus' spaceship to items like the Spider Ball and Plasma Beam. The game has an interesting structure, in that there are no conventional boss battles aside from the Queen Metroid at the end.

The series is known for its minimalist storytelling (well, until recently...). For an overlooked Game Boy game, it's strange that Metroid II includes perhaps the most important plot point in the entire series.

The set-up of Metroid II's storyline is questionable. Samus is on a mission to kill every single Metroid on planet SR388. They're not invading or terrorizing anyone else; SR388 is their home planet. Samus is the alien invader, out to commit genocide. There's even a counter at the bottom of the screen telling you at all times how many Metroids are left alive. But at the end of the game, after Samus has killed the last Metroid, she finds a Metroid egg that hatches in front of her. The newborn Metroid imprints onto her and believes Samus is its mother. So she spares the infant and takes it with her at the end of the game.

This has massive implications for the rest of the series. It immediately sets up the story of Super Metroid, where the Space Pirates steal the baby Metroid, and the dramatic ending where the baby Metroid sacrifices its own life to save Samus. It also evolves Samus' relationship with Metroids from a simple antagonistic one to a more ambiguous symbiotic connection, which would be further explored in Metroid Fusion.

The Mother Factor is particularly interesting. Not only was Samus the first major female protagonist in video games (Ms. Pac-Man doesn't really count--she's Pac-Man with a pink bow, not a human), but the main villains in Metroid and Metroid II are both female as well: Mother Brain and the Queen Metroid, respectively. Mother Brain would make a reappearance as the antagonist of Super Metroid.

How many other video games feature both a female protagonist and antagonist? And neither of them are objectified or sexualized for the Male Gaze, either? It's really just Metroid… and Portal.

Metroid II was originally planned to get a colorized remake for the Game Boy Color like The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening got with Link's Awakening DX. But Metroid is not the same cash cow for Nintendo that Zelda is, so it never happened. Metroid Prime developers Retro Studios talked about doing a remake of the game like the original Metroid got with Metroid: Zero Mission, but that never panned out either. Metroid II was not re-released in any form until 2011, when it was released on the 3DS Virtual Console.

It's a shame there hasn't been a handheld Metroid game in eight years, or a traditional Metroid sidescroller in ten years. I wouldn't recommend Metroid II to anyone in 2014 aside from diehard Metroid fans, but it's one of the most important, overlooked games Nintendo has ever made.

Ender's Game: a critique.

Ender’s Game was never going to live up to its source material. I understood that going in and attempted to temper my expectations, but my preparation was woefully inadequate.

Stop: hammer time.

Now, honestly, a lot of the main movie conventions that they were forced to apply didn’t bother me that much: Ender wasn’t 6 years old; Petra was American; Ender’s father wasn’t American; Bean was at Battle School as long as Ender was; North Carolina is apparently located in Scandanavia; Valentine was a pixelated sister more than a real one; Major Andersen was a woman; the whole of Ender’s time at Battle School took place over about a month and a half; et cetera. They were eye-rolly, sure, but that’s about it.

But what was unbearable, as a fan of the novel, was unbearable. The point of the whole story is that [28 year old spoilers] he doesn’t realize what he’s done until after everything is finished. As far as everything goes, the first fight with the unnamed Stilson was alright. He didn’t drop him with a single kick to the breast bone, but he did at least keep kicking him while he was down, though never in the face like the f’real Ender would’ve. He kills Stilson in that fight, but the movie never acknowledges it. It’s the first instance of Ender’s ruthlessness, and he is ruthless. He plays to win, and he won that fight, forever… in the book. In the movie, Stilson just rolls around on the ground in pain like the pussy he is.

Now, that’s not a big thing to complain about, and that’s exactly my point: it’s such a small but affective moment that they could have included it without edit. Stilson should’ve died.

And the fight with Bonzo (Oh, Bonzo, lol, I’m getting to you, too) was the same. In the book, Ender is truly desperate. He’s surrounded by the 3 year older Bonzo and his (harder, better, faster, stronger) friends, and Bonzo is aiming to kill. He’s forgone all reason and wants Ender dead and the steps Ender takes to win the fight are necessary and even reasonable. The fight in the movie was laughable. He got pushed and hit his head, for Christ’s sake. Not to say that isn’t dangerous and potentially deadly, it’s just noir-ly pathetic. In the book, Bonzo dies (gets destroyed, more like) because he gets cocky, loses sight of Ender in the steam of the showers, and then gets popped in the nuts, repeatedly, even after he’s fallen to the ground underneath a boiling hot shower stream. But in the movie, he doesn’t die, and there’s no way the real Ender would stand for that. Ender doesn’t play games.

Would it be weird if we kissed?

And speaking about the fight with Bonzo (correctly pronounced bone-so, btw) is Bonzo himself. The actor cast to play Bonzo couldn’t have been much more inappropriate unless he was a leprechaun who spoke Hungarian. Firstly, Bonzo is older than Ender and quite a bit taller and stronger, hence one reason Ender was so desperate in their altercation. Secondly, he’s described as tall, dark, and handsome. I have no intention of poking fun at the actor in question’s attractiveness, but he is not tall, dark, nor handsome. In fact, I wonder if they weren’t trying to explain away Bonzo’s unreasonable temper by giving him small man syndrome instead of “an advanced case of Spanish honor.” But it’s still ridiculous. Bonzo was able to command his army because he was someone they wanted to follow. This kid playing Bonzo would in no way be able to inspire that kind of respect. It was a joke, and an unappreciated one at that. Thinking about it later, I think the casting director was perhaps attempting to combine two characters in one: Bonzo Madrid and Rose de Nose, Ender’s second commander in the original story. Rose was a shorter, though still older, Jewish kid with a big nose (not making any stereotype jokes!), whom the actor playing Bonzo much more closely resembles. But still, they absolutely fucked up the perception Bonzo should’ve put forth.

What the fuck is this?!

The relationships between Ender and the supporting cast were totally opposite what they were in the novel. Bernard, the chunky kid who started out with all the friends, never came around. In fact, he was one of Bonzo’s buddies in the bathroom fight where Bonzo gets his comeuppance in the book. There’s little to no chance Ender forgives him, or vice versa, so that they can work together in the final battle. Or ever again, anywhere. Petra was never Ender’s seeming girlfriend (she was Dink’s girlfriend, actually), Dink and Ender were very close (not mere acquaintances), and Bean was definitely Ender’s closest (and combatiest) peer. In the movie, Bean is just a pissant, mouthy kid who’s tinier than Ender (but everyone in this damn movie is tinier than Ender), not a brilliantly imaginative soldier who challenges Ender into becoming the savior of humanity. The movie’s not very long, really. I think they could’ve spent a couple of two minute scenes developing the relationships between him and his subordinates.

There are plenty of other problems, but the biggest is the reveal of “the game.” And not just the game itself, but the whole story of Battle School. In the book, it’s after the final battle that he learns about the Bugger world, the deaths of Stilson, Bonzo, and all of the soldiers he was unwittingly using in the war. It should have happened this way in the movie. Save all of it for the end, then perhaps the audience, realizing that all of this is landing on Ender all at once, can sympathize with his situation. In the movie, he takes it in stride. Stilson’s in the hospital, but fine, regardless of the beating he took. No worry, no mention of him ever again (not to mention, it strikes a different chord when you realize that one 6 year old kid just beat to death another 6 year old – it’s definitely more acceptable if they're a little older, isn’t it?). All Ender knew was that Bonzo got sent back to Earth from Battle School, beaten but not broken in the movie. But in the book, Ender watches the video of his unsuccessful resuscitation after Ender is escorted from the bathroom by Dink. Think about how much more powerful a scene that would’ve been. First Stilson, then Bonzo. Then the soldiers. Then the Buggers. Ender’s just eradicated billions, so he decides to step out of the airlock…

And into Final Fantasy.

And doesn’t kill himself? Seems rather implausible to me.

Of course, he doesn’t in the book, either, (he also doesn't take a trip outside) but if you’re attempting to make a great movie, I think that’s the direction you go. That, or insanity, because ain’t no one going to shoulder that load successfully.

Console review: Wii U

The "next generation" of game consoles is in full swing now, but while I wait for the PlayStation 4 and Xbox One to gain decent libraries, I've just purchased Nintendo's Wii U. It's been called a commercial failure.

But with an affordable price point much lower than the competition and a growing library of great games like Pikmin 3, The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker HD, and Super Mario 3D World (along with Virtual Console classics like EarthBound), the Wii U has become a must-have.

The box

One of Nintendo's biggest issues selling the Wii U to mainstream audiences is making people realize it's actually a new console, not just an accessory for the Wii. Part of that is due to the look of the console itself. It's so sleek and compact, it's almost too sleek and compact for its own good. The Wii U GamePad is front and center in all Nintendo's marketing, and the console itself gets lost in the shuffle. To the casual observer it could just look like a fancy external hard drive or wireless router.

It's a beautiful, minimalist design, in stark contrast to Sony and Microsoft's hulking goliaths of gaming boxes. It's about the same size as the original Wii, but with a more rounded, less angular design. Considering how compact it is, I was pleasantly surprised to find the Wii U still has four USB ports, along with the SD card port. And it runs more quietly than any other disc-based console I've ever played.

The GamePad

It looks wonky at first glance. How are you supposed to play regular games on this controller? But then you lay your hands on it. The dual analog sticks are silky smooth, less oversized and cumbersome than PlayStation sticks and better made than cheap rubbery Xbox sticks. I was worried the buttons would be clicky like the 3DS', but they're like knives through creamy butter. The D-pad is perhaps my favorite D-pad of all time.

The PlayStation features analog sticks that both sit below the face buttons. The Xbox features an asymmetrical design, with the right analog stick below the face buttons and the left analog stick above them. Nintendo completes the cycle, with a controller featuring both analog sticks above the face buttons. I was worried it'd be awkward to press the face buttons with this layout, but it works perfectly. With your thumbs on the analog sticks, the middles of your thumbs rest comfortably near the buttons.

A major reason the GamePad avoids being awkward for conventional gaming is the back of the controller, which is ergonomically contoured to feel like any other traditional game controller. And despite its size, the GamePad is surprisingly lightweight.

Speaking of traditional controllers, Nintendo also sells the "pro" controller for multiplayer and for people who want a more standard experience. It's the exact same button layout as the GamePad, minus the screen.

The pro controller's shape is similar to an Xbox controller, although it's slightly wider and more lightweight.

But the GamePad is really the star of the show. Its touch screen is used for secondary game functions, like the touch screen on the DS and 3DS. Showing your map, inventory, and menus while the TV screen shows the real gameplay. You can even use the GamePad to control your TV and your cable box.

Off-TV play

Nintendo hasn't done a very good job of marketing the Wii U GamePad's greatest function, though: off-TV play. You can turn off your TV and play games through the GamePad alone. This works great if you want to play in bed or in the kitchen or anywhere else in your house outside the living room. Or if someone else wants to watch TV and you still want to play games. The GamePad even features its own speaker, volume adjuster, and headphone jack. 

Many people have complained this comes at the expense of the GamePad's battery life, which only lasts five hours. I haven't yet played for five straight hours without charging, though, so it hasn't come up as an issue for me.

Besides, you can play the GamePad while it's charging, and since it uses its own AC adapter separate from the Wii U console, if you really want to you can charge the GamePad in your bedroom and play while the console remains in your living room. It's a non-issue.

The Pro Controller simply charges using a standard USB cable, like the PlayStation controller. It has an 80-hour battery life.

The only downside

Everything about the Wii U design is perfect, except for one thing: the controller's trigger names. The triggers themselves are great. But while the shoulder buttons are called L and R, the triggers are called... ZL and ZR. What sort of button names are those?!

Nintendo has a strange history with triggers.

The legendary Nintendo 64 trigger was the Z button.

The GameCube featured the buttery smooth analog/digital L and R triggers, and an awkwardly-placed Z button.

The Wii remote's trigger was the B button, which was hard to get used to. The Nunchuk's trigger was the Z button, and its shoulder button was the C button. Unusual naming convention.

And now with Wii U, we have L and R for the shoulder buttons, and ZL and ZR for the triggers. When the button is displayed onscreen in a game, I feel like I'm meant to press two buttons.

Why couldn't Nintendo have just taken a page from the competition's book on this? PlayStation controllers have L1/R1/L2/R2, and Xbox controllers have L/R/LB/RB. These both make much more sense than L/R/ZL/ZR.

But aside from that: the Wii U design is perfect.

A Historical Primer for 300: Rise of an Empire

So 300 is getting a sequel called 300: Rise of an Empire.  That’s weird to me on a few different levels, but I’m also surprisingly excited to see it.  I wasn’t a huge fan of the original movie, but I appreciate it as a modern progression of the swords-and-sandals epics of old.  Some of you may be asking what this movie will actually be about.  300 ends with a fairly concise conclusion, because they all died.  Where can the movie go from there?

Judging from the trailers, the vast majority of the movie will be centered on a naval conflict between the Athenians and the Persians.  The main hero is an Athenian commander played by relative unknown Sullivan Stapleton and his main opponent seems to be Eva Green as one of the main villains for the piece.  What does any of this mean?  Let’s get started with who our main characters are and go from there.

Curse Words at the Oscars

I have a love-hate relationship with curse words. First, they’re pretty fuckin’ fun to use, but I feel like they cast a shadow of lower class crassness over me that is specifically distasteful. Further, I feel that when other bitches misuse curse words, either due to the improper situation or actually, literally, misusing a curse word (“You shitting head!” or “Your ass is tits!” or any of a number of amazing ones I’ve heard come from foreign speakers’ mouths), I feel the same shadow creep up, and I hate it.

"Man, look at that beautiful fuckin' sky."

Curse words have become too acceptable in media. There was a point in time when using one meant that shit had truly gone DOWN, and that someone was about to get fucked up. They were still strong and sturdy phrases to use when the circumstances were right. But now, any old piece of shit can say them for a laugh, but they’re usually not funny. The infixes are still pretty un-fucking-believably funny, but that’s about it.

And that’s about all. See all of those I just used? With the exception of my infix, do any of those truly add to the experience? Does it make me sound clever? Am I edgy? I don’t know. I don’t think so, but that’s my opinion. Your mileage may vary.

Basically my mom.

I’ve recently managed to see many of the 2014 Oscar Best Picture nominations, and I was appalled at how violently expletive most of them were, even when the subject matter didn’t call for it. I was not able to see Nebraska, Captain Phillips, Dallas Buyers Club, or Philomena, but I did see the rest of them. American Hustle (long and boring) and The Wolf of Wall Street (long and hilarious) I expected to be curse heavy, but Her (long and interesting) and August: Osage County (long and depends on your mood – good performances, though) genuinely surprised me in their usage. I’m not entirely sure why, but whenever Meryl Streep curses, I cringe. Actually, I know exactly why: my mother is her doppelgänger, and my mother doesn’t curse.

I was raised not to curse, not because they’re bad words, but because they can make you look like a fool, or like someone not worth speaking to. Others’ perceptions of you change when you curse (outside of the correct situation, anyway). Obviously, I curse. My brother curses. So do my friends. Just about everybody curses. But I only curse for effect, or in a fit of anger or passion, never casually. Not since college, anyway.

But my point is that I would have enjoyed Her more if there had been no cursing, or less of it. It’s kind of a cute love story (that exactly parallels the primary subplot of Orson Scott Card's Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, and Children of the Mind, perhaps accidentally on purpose) with cute, somewhat naïve characters, but there was so much casual swearing in it that I couldn’t appreciate much of the dialogue, especially when the main character is lauded for being so excellent and tender with words, but sounds like an idiot when he curses for no reason. Cursing demeaned the movie. It lowered my opinion of it.

But there were times when cursing would have helped, too. The primary conflict and the ultimate conflict ended up being entirely different, but it would have felt more natural if, during the climaxes of those few scenes, there was some cursing. Whereas in the other, lighter scenes, it comes out of the blue and personally makes me go, “huh, that was dumb.” It made me like the character who said them much less. And it made me like Joaquin Phoenix's character a lot less, just for his having anything to do with people like that. It all really comes down to poor writing, poor direction, or poor ideas. Which is too bad. But it won't win the Oscar, anyway. And that's good.

I couldn't not use this.

Nintendo's Future, Re-opinioned

One of the things I kept coming back to in Jake’s and my argument about the future of videogames is that I just don’t see the future being too terribly different from the present. In other words, I don’t think that the technological singularity is going to happen as quickly as Jake is afraid it’s going to. I do think it will happen, but not soon.

In our “discussion,” I referenced the incomparable Mr. Stephen Fry and his BBC radio show “Fry’s English Delight,” specifically the episode about the future of the English language as compared to today. I brought up one particular point made by one of the guests on the show about how, obviously, it is impossible to predict the future (hell, the singularity could happen tomorrow, or next month, or next year), but you can make predictions based upon precedent, specifically, how things have happened in the past. In the show, Fry posited the question about whether in, say, 200 years, the English language would be, to contemporary speakers and readers, completely indecipherable or not. The answer was a definitive “no.”

What the f...?

And here’s why: the only thing we have to go on is history, and, looking back at the history of the English language, we can go back much farther than only 200 years, in fact. We can go all the way to Shakespeare or Chaucer and still understand their English, albeit with some difficulty, especially with archaic words and word spellings and meanings. If we can understand them, it’s likely that we will be able to understand our future language, albeit with difficulty. There’s more to it, but that’s the relevant idea. We should be able to understand and get along. And I think that is directly applicable to the future of video game consoles.

Again, it’s my opinion that the technological black hole will happen, I’d be shocked if it didn’t, but I don’t think it will be as quick as it’s feared. And the reason why is both the past, and people.

People don’t change much, all considered. Look at the older generation: how many of them play video games? Very few, I’d wager. Is it because they just don’t understand all these new-fangled gadgets, or is it because they don’t understand why kids these days can’t just go outside and play, or is it because they’d rather just read a book, or keep a garden, or any other number of excuses they give? Well, yes, exactly. It’s not because they think games are inherently stupid (well, they might, but they’re wrong), it’s because it’s not what they grew up doing. It’s not what they're used to.

"I've been googling 'Jenna' all day, but only
 one of them was my granddaughter."

And we’re all like that. I remember looking at the original Wii, thinking, “man, I just don’t want to be forced to wave my arms to play a game.” And, to a degree, I still feel that way. And, apparently, so does everyone else. Of course, the action games like Wii Sports or Wii Fit that make you flail like a 5 year old still exist, but the casual game that anybody can pick up and play is, more or less, a gimmick. Most gamers, the so-called hardcore crowd, are used to using old-school control schemes, and are thus more comfortable with that kind of setup. The Wii U is a response to that (even if a slightly cumbersome one), and the overall de-focus on wand-waving is evidence as well. Wand-waving is around, but it will never replace classic controls… Until the kids today grow up and become video game company leaders who only want to play games where flailing is a necessity.

But, I’d say, where this is really important, the whole “used-to” factor I mean, is with the Game Boy.

Portable gaming has come a long way. A long, long way. Portable gaming is everywhere from Apple and Android devices to popular Nintendo and Sony handhelds to little 3^rd party screens that play Pong and other older games, usually sidescrollers like Contra­ or 1942. Jake thinks – fears – that portable gaming will be taken over completely by the iDevices and that the Game Boy (and DS, and 3DS) as we know it will cease to exist. This is where we completely disagree.

It doesn't look 30.

Did you know that the Game Boy has been around nearly 30 years? Good god, that’s a long time for a gadget to live. Granted, they’re not all the same, we’re talking Game Boys, GB Colors, GB Advances, DSes, and now 3DSes, but the fact remains that, despite the upgrades, it’s the same device that serves the same purpose: portable video games. The demand for which has not only not decreased, but has remained so outstandingly popular that every kid everywhere ever wants or has at one point wanted one, especially in 2013 (supported by factual basis). Kids, known for being fickle bastards, have remained loyal to Nintendo for all these years, and Nintendo kids like Jake grew up and continue to be loyal even as adults. Regardless of how amazing and powerful new cell phones and tablets will continue to become (and what emulators they employ), they simply don’t replace holding a proper Game Boy and booting up Tetris or Pokémon in the car on a family trip or on the train going to work.

But here’s where it gets tricky: languages are living, breathing entities that change as people change; technology is dictated by the speed of progress, and isn’t dependent on rate of spread. There could very well be a new tech in the next few years that will entirely replace the need for a Game Boy in any sense (a perfect, and I mean perfect cell phone virtual control pad, for instance). But that’s impossible to predict. It might happen, it might not. You could argue cell phones and iPods already have replaced Game Boys, and there’s valid argument, but, as Jake argued and with which I agree, Nintendo’s catalog of games is not to be trifled with, and I don’t see Nintendo giving up its exclusive publishing rights to Mario, Pokémon, Metroid, Donkey Kong, Zelda, etc. If for some reason they ever decide to give up in the proper console war, they’ll be able to focus solely on building their own proprietary Game Boy hardware (and software) and still succeed.

But if they want to win this console war (which they don’t appear too troubled about, honestly), they’ve got to utilize the Virtual Console intelligently. Why is the Wii U cupboard so bare? Why did it take years and years for EarthBound to come to any VC, and then only to one VC? Why in the world are they treating each specific system’s VC as separate and individual? If Nintendo is smart, they’ll take a page out of the PSN manual and merge the VCs together, actually get their shit together in regard to back catalog game releases, and use every single resource at their disposal, namely the Gamecube, N64, and Dreamcast licenses they no doubt have access to. Jake’s mention of getting Shenmue on the VC? That came from me, yo. I would gladly pay for the ability to play Shenmue on a console I still currently own and use (my Dreamcast in my fluent language is across the sea), but I don’t appear to have anywhere to throw my money to make that happen. Why the fuck not, Nintendo?!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh.

Or Sony. Or Microsoft. I’m not pressed.

Previewing Bravely Default: A New Classic

This is the first post by new contributor Danny Westendorff! -Jake

If you play video games these days and have at least half a pulse, you've probably heard of the Final Fantasy series, the JRPG series that put Square-Enix (formerly Squaresoft) on the map and quickly became the face of JRPGs as a whole.

These games typically feature turn-based combat where players control a party of 3-5 characters with varying abilities based on their "class". i.e.- Knights can block hits for their allies, Mages cast magic, Thieves can steal items, et cetera, using strategic combinations of spells and skills to fight monsters, crawl dungeons, and (typically) ultimately save the world from some sort of catastrophe.  I, personally, have always loved these games for their story and have loved them since I first met Final Fantasy IV in 1994 (or so).

Well, the illustrious developing company does more than just churn out a new Final Fantasy every two or so years, and it is on this subject that I would like to speak.  As it turns out, Square-Enix is producing a new game that is coming stateside on February 7th, Bravely Default.  I played the free demo and thought I'd speak my piece on it.
,
But first, I have a short tale I'd like to spin.


I'd like to start this post with a little trip down memory lane, back to 1997 when Final Fantasy VII was released, the game that launched a thousand cosplayers (but this isn't about that).  Final Fantasy VII changed the way players could customize the roles played by each of their characters through the use of Materia.  You could give your characters nothing but magic, all commands (steal, throw, etc.), summons out the yin-yang, or a sensible combination.  It was cool, innovative, and a fun break from the "Ninjas-have-throw, Thieves-have-steal" formula from the past.

Time marches on, and 1999 rolls around, bringing with it the release of Final Fantasy VIII and its Junctioning system, where characters gain different stats, abilities, and skills based on which Guardian Forces (summons) they have linked with them.  Again, it was a clever way to change up the system, allowing you to customize your character.  Maybe you'll give your main bruiser the "mug" ability, letting you attack and steal simultaneously, you get the idea.

But then Final Fantasy IX comes out in 2000 (the last to be released on the PSX), with a refreshing return to the class-based Final Fantasy that we all fell in love with. Your Thief came preloaded with the steal command, and so on.  In fact, the Black Mage character was modeled after the original design and there's even a bit in the beginning where your White Mage/Summoner disguises herself in the traditional White Mage robe.

See what I mean?

I'm sure right about now you're wondering what the point is, and I apologize for the digression.  The point, dear readers, is that while innovation is great, sometimes what we want--what we really need is a brief return to normality.  I sincerely believe Final Fantasy IX was what we needed, when we needed it.

Flash forward to 2012, and we're up to Final Fantasy XIII-2 (actually XIV, but I don't count the MMOs, so sue me).  We've seen the Sphere-grid, braved the License Board, and harrowed the Paradigm System, each one more complex and innovative than the last.  Some people are holding their breath for Final Fantasy Versus XIII, and some are waiting for Type-0 to make its journey to the west.  So what's next for Square-Enix?

Ta-da

In October of 2012 Square-Enix released Bravely Default: Flying Fairy in Japan, a role-playing-game about God-knows-what (I'm not spoiling the plot for myself).  It's 2014 and Bravely Default is finally coming Stateside in February, with a 3DS release that's actually an updated version called Bravely Default: For the Sequel in Japan (who continue to come up with strange subtitles >___>).

Now, I've played the free demo and I am pleased to say that, so far as I can tell, the game is a new-classic Final Fantasy in everything except name, with turn-based combat (not seen since Final Fantasy X), an overwold (gone since IX), and a return to the job-change system from Final Fantasy V (one of my personal favorites).

That is not to say that there's nothing new to see in this game.  The touch-of-spice added to the tried-and-true turn-based combat involves a system wherein players can forego actions in favor of throwing down multiple later on to devastating effect.  This is called "Defaulting" and "Braving" respectively.

They have also engineered a... really quite fun mini-game type subplot employing the use of the 3DS' "streetpass" system.  This mini-game involves rebuilding a city that has been destroyed.  For each person you streetpass (when your 3DS gets near another and both have wi-fi on) who has the game, that's another person in your village.  You use these villagers to clear away ancient boulders, build and upgrade shops, et cetera, which are quite literally a matter of time.  However, a job that would take ten hours with one villager takes only five hours with two, and so on.  This all goes on in the background while you spelunk dungeons and do general world-saving.

You can also use the "Abilink" system, linking one of your characters with one of your friends with whom you've streetpassed, giving that character a boost of job-levels correlating to the levels gained by that friend.  Kind of like being their spirit-guide...or something.

The look of the gameplay, I have to say, differs greatly from its frankly breathtaking concept art, hearkening more towards the style used in the DS port of Final Fantasy III, three-dimensional versions of the sprites from previous generations.

The game is coming out on February 7th.  You can also preorder the collector's edition, which includes the game, art book, character AR cards, and soundtrack (I would get it just for the art book, to be honest...but I have a weakness for art books).  So, to all those out there who love Final Fantasy old and new, and would love to go back to the roots for a bit, make sure to pick up Bravely Default next month, I know I am.

Austin's Fave Five Films of 2013

(yes it's a clip from a different movie, but I never pass up an opportunity to post the best song)

5. G.I. Joe: Retaliation

The future of entertainment with worldwide appeal that Tim talks about is fine and good, but sometimes an inclusive nature changes things for the worse.  That sometimes has a name, and its name is G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra, the first live action G.I. Joe movie.  It was atrocious.  2013's sequel, G.I. Joe: Retaliation was not atrocious.  While that might not be the high praise you'd expect on a top 5 list, it is enough in my eyes.  I've been a fan of the real American Heroes for longer than any other fictional characters and the somewhat redemptive nature of the movie delighted me to no end.  There's a number of other highlights including impeccable casting of the Rock as Roadblock, distinct lack of Channing Tatum, and Snake Eyes getting to actually be a badass ninja that fights other ninja on the side of a mountain instead of a mute with molded lips.  The link between the Arashikage and Wu-Tang was further strengthened  with RZA's unexpected appearance as a blind ninja master.  I know it's just a passable movie, but it's a passable movie I liked dammit.

4. The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

It's The Hobbit and it's a goddamn fun as hell adventure.  People that have a problem with the movie are probably saying two things: 1) "a bloo bloo bloo, they took liberties with the book" 2) "where's the rest of the story?"  "Stay patient, nerd" is the only appropriate response.  The changes and additions made to the story for the movie sake are fine and add to the story in an organic enough way.  Seriously though, it's an adventure story that feels like an exciting adventure.  Then again, my judgment could've been clouded by viewing the audiovisual dumbassery that is Rebuild of Evangelion 3 earlier that same day which made tH:DoS seem like the best movie ever if not for 3 specific reasons (hint: they're one, two, and three on my list).

3. Bad Grandpa

As a Jackass aficionado every new release by Johnny Knoxville and company I tend to meet with unbridled glee.  Bad Grandpa is no exception.  Forgoing the outrageous/dangerous physical stunts part of the equation this time Johnny Knoxville remains entirely in heavily prosthesis as an old troublesome man.  The strangest part of the movie comes with the introduction of an overriding narrative.  Crafting a narrative to link the gags is an odd choice made even more bizarre as the link between Knoxville's bad grandpa and his young grandson is touching in a way no one would have probably thought.  Perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise considering Spike Jonze's talent and heavy involvement in the series.  That said the physical and candid camera gags are still the draw.  If you don't think an old man crapping his pants so bad that he inadvertently paints the walls of an eating establishment brown is funny then how do you even enjoy life?

2.Escape Plan

There is a certain audience for this movie about Arnold and Stallone escaping from an inescapable prison, and that audience is me.  Old action heroes, prison fights, sneaky plots, exploding barrels, twists, and TWISTS, Escape Plan has it all.  This clearly isn't for everyone, and it's only natural for some people to roll their eyes at it.  Too bad it's still the second best movie of the year.  I like what I like and I apologize for nothing.  

1. Pacific Rim

My fascination with mecha is well documented, so it shouldn't come as any surprise that Pacific Rim is my top pick for 2013.  There's not much left to say about it that Jake and I didn't already cover in our dialogue about it.  Tastes are subjective, but what's not subjective is how objectively awesome the action scenes where.  How rad was that Hong Kong battle?  Super rad, amirite?  Let me reiterate then, it's a giant robot movie that reminded me why I love giant robots, so I think it can stir some feelings in even the hardest of hearts.