Game Over, Man!

by M. Glenn Gore


I'll be the first to admit that I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this one. Why is that, exactly? Because today we're talking about video games, or rather Hollywood's apparent inability to successfully translate video games into films that don't make me want to gouge out my eyes or take a hostage and gouge out their eyes. Either way, some eyes are comin' out!

This topic actually really pisses me off. I mean it. I take it personally. We invented art and music. We cured Polio. We put a guy on the moon which, for shit's sake, is in OUTER SPACE! You can't tell me the human animal is incapable of turning a spectacular video game into an at-least mediocre movie! Yet all evidence - and there's a shit-ton of it, let me tell you - seems to point to the contrary.

Sporting events make great films. Look at Rocky or Pride of the Yankees, or to a lesser extent, The Mighty Ducks. Books often get made into good movies. Blade Runner, anyone? The Shawshank Redemption? TV shows, too. Remember The Fugitive? Star Trek? And, oh yeah, The Untouchables?

Why can't Hollywood get their act together when it comes to video games?

"Ha! Shuck it, vidyo gaymas!"

If I listed every balls-ass awful movie ever shat forth from a perfectly sound game, you'd probably have a reaction akin to someone who accidentally caught a glimpse of Cthulhu. So to make this interesting, I'm going to do this without making a single reference to infamous anti-director and cinematic war criminal Uwe Boll and his corpse of a body of work. That would simply be too easy.

However, if I could give He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named one small suggestion that would serve him well the remainder of his days, it would be: Maybe you'd be better at making video game movies if you didn't hate video games quite so much. And if that doesn't work, might I suggest at least not hating the people who love video games as much as you so obviously do. Food for thought. Moving on.

The question is, why does this happen? Why do writers and directors and production designers just lose their collective shit whenever they're challenged with bringing a game to the screen? At their core, they're still stories. They're still a sequence of events propelled by character motivations. This is what you do, Hollywood. You got this. This should be easy!

But it's not easy, is it? And they don't got this, do they?

"Instead of Italian plumbers, can they be 19-year-old Swedish cheerleaders?"

Let's look at the make-you-lose-your-faith-in-humanity-calibre train wrecks known as the Resident Evil movies. Now, I know what you're thinking: Resident Evil 2 was good. No, it wasn't. None of them were. Not one of the - I guess by now - eleven Resident Evil films is better than below average. The beloved Capcom games were moody, mysterious, and oftentimes legitimately frightening. They forced you to aimlessly wend your way through vast, labyrinthine environments and presented you with righteous characters like Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield and... Alice?

Wait. Who the shit is Alice? That's right. She's nobody! A fetching nobody with a smoky voice and hypnotic come-hither eyes, but a nobody nonetheless!

Now, I'm not an expert on video games or movies or... anything really, but here's a hint, Hollywood: If millions of people love the characters of a video game, when you go to make a movie about that video game, you might want to consider making one of the characters, I don't know, your HERO! By relegating the characters from the games to second and third-tier status, whatever coven of bloodless witches responsible for the many Residents Evil effectively thumbed their nose at the gamers and the franchise and hobbled the film right out of the gate. And they never got their legs back.

It's the equivalent of making a Jaws sequel in which stalwart Police Chief Martin Brody is now played by Sherman Hemsley, and the shark is a 1996 Toyota Camry. Or maybe something like this:

Pictured: Dora the Explorer: The Movie

The point is, we love the games. Why does Hollywood go so far out of their way to put something on screen that is NOTHING LIKE THEM?! And here's another one: If you never had any intention of using the characters, plots or settings (i.e., the frikkin' game), the least you can do is change the title!

If a Canadian on skates doesn't get punched in the mouth, you can't call it hockey!

I am, of course, talking about the suicide pact-inducing Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within movie, which has about as much in common with the Final Fantasy game series as I do with the prima ballerina for the Moscow Ballet. For the three people on Earth who don't know, Final Fantasy is a world-renowned and much lauded role-playing game franchise. As I type this, there are no less than 65 games in the catalog, and they are each of them spectacular, except for XII, which is horseshit.

So when the movie got announced, we all understandably lost our minds in eager anticipation. The possibilities were endless. Would they use the characters from VI or VII? Who was the villain going to be? Kefka or Ultimecia, or both? Would there be Chocobos, and if not, okay. I can live with that. As it turned out, all that wishful thinking and ravenous gnashing of teeth was for naught since the finished product spiraled into an amorphous and convoluted landfill of non-canonical characters, unfamiliar worlds, and a plotline that was unnavigable even by Final Fantasy standards.

It's simply a crime to tread on the good name of a time-tested product just to put arses in the seats. Have a little integrity, for crying out loud! Don't get me wrong, the CGI was gorgeous, but the flick is a damn toilet, and you don't put a chandelier in an outhouse! Do you, Doctor Aki Ross?! No, you don't!

Polygons do not a movie make.

Now, obviously, I can't leave here without calling out Street Fighter, but that's primarily because I love that game more than I love my own family. Seriously, if it was between my sister and a copy of Street Fighter Alpha, I would honestly have to ask if it was Alpha 2 or 3. It's possible I may have a problem.

As a personal slight to me, Hollywood summoned TWO equally bile-producing Street Fighter movies, one can only assume by slaughtering a virgin beneath a gibbous moon. The first stars Bloodsport's own Jean-Claude Van Damme, who is Belgian by the by. And for reasons even more vexing, he plays Guile, who is as American as steroid use in Major League Baseball.

This also happened.

Street Fighter, you may have guessed, is an arcade classic about a bunch of people fighting in the street. There are 42 games currently, at least 39 of them bearing some variation of the title Street Fighter II. The games have no plot that I can discern, which is fine 'cause this isn't an RPG. This isn't Fable. I didn't come here to get a job as a local blacksmith or begin a meaningful relationship with the town cobbler. No. Fuck that guy! I have but two loves: streets... and fighting in them.

So how did this movie go so wrong that I contemplated taking my own life with the headrest of the seat in front of me? By doing the opposite of what you might expect. The film tries to crowbar a story in where one clearly just doesn't belong. This was simply a case of the powers-that-be making more work for themselves than they needed to. It's why Bruce Lee's Game of Death works so remarkably well. That's a movie about Bruce Lee fighting his way up a tower, facing a different badass with a unique and deadly martial arts style on every floor, ultimately culminating in a showdown with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, who was 17 feet tall at the time it was filmed, and it was exactly as awesome as it sounds!

My point is don't over-think this stuff, people. Most of the time, it just isn't necessary.

And as long as we're bitching about fighting games, I should take a moment to address Mortal Kombat. Believe it or not, Mortal Kombat is the best video game movie ever made, which is kinda like saying I'd rather have testicular cancer than ascending bowel cancer, because when you're going to lose either way, you don't look for consolation in the varying degrees.

Starring Christopher Lambert of Highlander and Robin Shou of... Mortal Kombat, this 1995 feast for fanboys gave us, for better or worse, almost precisely what we hoped it would. It used characters from the games, and we could actually recognize them; they utilized their signature attacks, oftentimes to hilarious and bewildering effect; it followed the game's storyline, more or less, and it featured two honest-to-God fight scenes which were pretty damn good.

Here's one of them now:

It also spawned a heinous sequel called Mortal Kombat: Annihilation, which only managed to annihilate my belief in God, so I'm not gonna harp on that. In fact, pretend I never brought it up.

Doom, Wing Commander, Double Dragon, Silent Hill, Tomb Raider and its insipid sequel, Tomb Raider 2: Rock the Cradle of Love or whatever it's called, the list of failures just goes on and on with nary an end in sight. But there's no reason to rail against these because they all pale in comparison to the everlasting juggernaut, the infectious, incurable plague, the hammer-wielding Odinson of cinematic enemas: the great and terrible Super Mario Brothers Movie! I know you've seen it.

Don't even act like you weren't there opening day!

To say that this movie single-handedly crushed the dreams of children the world over would be an understatement. Bearing only a passing likeness to the epic yarn of a bemustached, turtle-busting band of brothers who are spirited away to a parallel world where they are caught up in a no-holds-barred do-or-die suicide mission to free Princess Peach and the Mushroom Kingdom from the clutches of the despot Bowser and his vile brood, the movie sadly features little to none of that.

This "thing" stars Bob Hoskins, who is not Italian, Dennis Hopper, who is not a giant turtle, and John Leguizamo, who is an asshole. It throws literally EVERYTHING that makes the game cool out the window, and for what? Some down-to-earth, dark and gritty Nolanesque take on one of the most family-friendly games since Russian Roulette? Why? You're not going to gain a new audience, Hollywood! You're not going to attract viewers who've never heard of it.

Why don't you spend a little less time and money trying to get people who don't give a shit about Mario to come see your movie and make a product for those of us who are guaranteed to show up?

"KIIILLLLL MMEEEEE!"

There is no curse in the tongues of Elves, Dwarves or Men strong enough to properly convey the anger I feel every time a new game-based film comes out and self-destructs before my eyes. These games are a treasure trove of inspired ideas, memorable characters, and bold storytelling unbeholden to conventional rules and expectations. They CAN make exceptional movies, but only if you refuse to run from what it is that makes them exceptional to begin with.

No, Mr. Director, you aren't going to come up with a cooler character than the one in the game, so don't replace him/her with a nobody we're not invested in. You're not going to build a better world than the one in the game, so don't embarrass yourself trying. The gamemakers have already done the heavy lifting for you. Trust them, and trust us when we tell you the game is perfect the way it is.

Embrace the inherent and beautiful madness that is a hallmark of video gaming and run with it. And if you even think about screwing up the Castlevania movie, I swear to Vishnu I'm comin' down there!

And I'm bringing a bunch of gamers with me.

NEXT: Alex Tisdale enters the Ran(t)som Notes fray with an insightful examination of the worst TV shows that people actually love.

Reproach of the Nerds

by: Wayne C. Spencer

Nerds are the worst, guys.

Why are they the worst? Well, I'll tell you. Nerds are snobs to other nerds and snobs to nerd hopefuls. They presume that the enjoyment of their niche interests somehow ordains them keepers of said interests' integrity, and this kind of makes them dicks sometimes.

I know all about it. I mean, who better to tell you about how awful nerds can be than a nerd himself.

Before we get going, let's identify who exactly we're talking about. For the most part, I'm going to be discussing your garden variety pop culture enthusiast. The types that reverently refer to themselves, their peer-group and anything to do with their areas of interest as "geek culture."

I do recognize that there are many types of nerd, especially these days. It has become not only accepted, but in a sense, expected that you self-identify with some group which shares some cultural sameness; so you have church-nerds, sports-nerds, and electronics nerds in addition to the more meat-and-potatoes nerds we might be used to (comics, role-playing, pog collecting etc...). While I recognize that these people exist, we're going to focus primarily on nerds who infest the hallways of various types of entertainments.

First-most, nerds are more precious about and also DEFINE themselves by the things they like, therefore they are prone to being petty and extremely defensive about the things they like. Take, for instance, the row over one attitudinous blue hedgehog. Sonic fans are in an interesting and sort of unique situation when it comes to judging and being judged. While lots of other nerds from other fandoms might glance down-the-nose-ward at rabid groups of Sonic enthusiasts for reasons like there not having been a really great Sonic game in more than a decade, and others because of an extremely vocal and sexually interested contingent, Sonic fans argue with each other over things like the hedgehog's body shape or color of his eyes.

The great dilemma of our times. 

Essentially the split in preference boils down to one group being more interested in the more cartoon-like and carefree, rounded smart-aleck of the original three Genesis games (and some Saturn games, which shan't be spoken of), and the other prefers the lankier, more devil-may-care "Sonic Adventures" styled Sonic, who's universe is steeped in continuity, pathos, comes with an ensemble cast of characters and has a predilection toward somewhat sprawling storylines.

This conflict is one that can be summed up by one question: Green eyes Sonic, or black eyes Sonic? A burning question to which the answer is surely "Who gives a shit."

To be perfectly fair, it is a question which you could likely answer for yourself with some thought. I myself prefer fat cartoon Sonic to some degree, but then again, I also don't care. My feeling is that the question of which cartoon character better embodies the eternal metaphysical ideal that Sonic-ness represents is probably not a pressing question, demanding of resolution. Sure, it may be fun to debate such things in certain circles of people, but let's not lose our heads here. We all like dumb stuff. The crown of slightly superior dumb stuff is probably not worth starting wimpy internet slap-fights over. 

Now, why's this happen in the first place? Tribes. 

We all break down into tribes kind of naturally. The Internet has facilitated this unprecedented tribe-ening, where geography (and largely demographics) don't matter anymore, so what you're left with is this enormous group of people who identify themselves by their ideas and interests. Not only that, but this enormous group like automatically splinters into sub-groups centered around even more specific areas of interest. We all do it, and to varying degrees. I mean, who among you reading this has not sneered at a "Brony", or dismissively huffed over the Twilight books, or their fans? 

This is exactly the kind of thing we need to get a handle on.

The point is, we need to make a real effort to not be dicks about it. 

Case in point. What about the people who don't wear the stripes of any particular nerd pedigree? What about the ever growing torrent of "normies" who traffic more and more in nerd culture, because nerd culture is "pop" culture now?

Short answer is nerds are kind of unfair to them.

There was a time when, if you were really interested in something, if you wanted to know everything about it, you had to get really good at finding information. You had to get good at finding information, and even once you'd found it, you had to be pretty good at extracting a lot from a little. If you wanted to hang out with like-minded people, you had to learn how to suss them out. This, I think, is really where nerd culture has its roots. At some point, being a nerd was a thing you studied at. There was this feeling that by attaining certain knowledge, that something had been earned.

I don't think it's a secret to anyone reading this that this feeling has given rise to a certain resentment when dealing with those newcomers to our enthusiasm. There are new kids in the house and sometimes we're jerks to them because we're afraid they will take our toys if we aren't careful. There is actually a lot to say about this, but in the interest of space, I'm going to focus on one key area:

Girls.

There has been a great deal of noise made, not to mention lots of cute little memes and tumblrs and no end to posts on reddit about girl nerds. Specifically the idea that a girl, in asserting that she is a nerd, or a geek of some stripe, is only faking that interest to get attention from boys. The best kind of attention, to be sure, but it is a specious aspersion to say the least. There was also a pretty well known comics guy who lost his damned mind over how cosplay girls aren't authentic enough nerds and, again, adopt this hyper-sexualized nerd-flavored facade for... attention, right. Look, there have been plenty of arguments about this already, so I'm not going to beat this to death.

Here's the thing. You don't get to pick who's a "real" nerd or not. Are there fake nerds? Sure. Are some of them women? I have met several. The larger issue is that there are plenty of women who are as dedicated, or more dedicated than any three Lewis Skolnicks you might know. At a glance, it is difficult to impossible to distinguish these people from phony girl nerds, who are apparently a scourge on the order of a Tyranid Swarmlord. And since you can't distinguish one from the other, the only reasonable thing to do is fall back on that old chestnut -- DON'T BE A DICK!

As with every situation, it's the Tyranids who are the real bad guys here. 

Besides, at least where cosplay is concerned, we're talking about a craft that takes extensive study to master, the particulars of which are relatively little known and who's immediate appeal may be lost on the casual observer. It is clear that these people are clearly tremendous nerds.

Look, there is very little utility in being this eternal judge who gets to determine the authenticity of potential fans, forever unseen until someone dares to enjoy something the wrong way. Liking something is not the same thing as owning it. Even if you own some kind of entertainment,  you STILL don't get to decide how people will experience or interpret it.

Yes. The Michael Bay Transformers movies are kind of incomprehensible to me, yes, I think the animated movie from the 80's is deeper and more satisfying, but at the end of the day, they're both elaborate commercials about talking robots who want to punch each other.

Guys. This is still dumb.

And whether you like Transformers, or anything else, remember: The only reason you are as well versed as you are in the lore and as close as you are to the community, is because sometime in the past, when you were still new, someone was cool enough to just let you like it.

In recent years there have been shows like "Beauty and the Geek", "The Tester" and "Big Bang Theory," which market the idea and "chic" of geek/nerd culture to the masses (normies). The shows get a lot of things wrong, and more often than not, their depiction of nerd-dom is shallow and less than flattering, so I don't think its unreasonable that nerds bristle quite often about them. Personally, I think it is a side-effect of corporate media trying to grapple with a concept it does not understand and is not properly equipped to convey. That concept being one of "entertainment that becomes more than entertainment," because it means something personal to the person experiencing it.

The special thing about any of this is that it can be bigger than its purpose, given the right mind to incubate it. So listen, let people like things.

Don't be a dick.

Tell 'em, Ogre. 

NEXT: M. Glenn Gore returns from the weird and haunted shores at World's End to explain why Hollywood can't make a good videogame-based film to save their miserable lives.

Fire the Canon!

by Brian Martin

In my last rant, I talked about the impending release of a new Star Wars film and why the so-called “Expanded Universe” needed to be put out to pasture in favor of a wholly original plotline for Episode VII – Die Jar-Jar Die.  Building off of this idea, differentiating between what, as far as the Star Wars universe is concerned, is “real” and “apocryphal”, I will be talking about two “C” words in this article, both of which are tied to one another and perhaps more important to nerd culture than just about anything else (including original concepts and quality storytelling).

The first of these “C” words is Canon.  As far as fiction is concerned, “canon” refers not only to what’s important or culturally relevant, but what “happened” as far as an ongoing narrative is concerned.  The canon consists of the stories the reader perceives to have been a part of the overall narrative.  It’s what causes a fan to look at 75 years of Batman stories and ask, “Which of these stories is a part of Bruce Wayne’s life?”

If there’s one thing that matters more to geek culture more than quality storytelling, it’s the other “C” word: Continuity, the idea that all of the stories you’re reading/watching are part of a larger whole, a reflection of our own day-to-day lives.  Continuity is the life of the character, as the character perceives it, built out of the stories of the past.

Just about the worst thing you can tell a geek is that his/her favorite stories “didn’t happen anymore,” the effect of a retcon (shorthand for “retroactive continuity”).  This is, of course, purely relative to the character(s) in the story and not our reality, since one of the nicer aspects of fiction is that once it’s published, it tends to stay around in one form or another, freely available for future enjoyment.

Of course, when one takes a step back from this, the sheer lunacy of the idea is pretty evident.  Star Trek, Star Wars, Spider-Man, and hell, even Twilight have stories both canonical and non-canonical.  But what do ALL of these stories have in common?  They are ALL works of fiction.  None of them REALLY happened to begin with.  This begs the question: if a story is good, does it really matter if it’s part of accepted canon?

Survey says: NO, on BOTH counts

Ever feel a connection with a fictional character?  For geeks, these connections tend to be very deep, almost familial.  There are people out there who care more about Peter Parker than they do members of their own family.  This sort of devotion is born from decades of storytelling and the fact that most readers grew up (and, in many cases, entered adulthood) reading about whether or not Pete could get Aunt May’s gangrene medication to her in time or which unnaturally hot woman he’d choose to date.  It’s this sense of kinship that leads fans to hold the stories of the past in high regard, often treating them as though they actually happened in real life, despite how good or bad they are.

As far as Spider-Man’s history goes, it has certainly had its share of ups and downs, both personally for Peter and creatively for the series as a whole.  Perhaps no slice of Spidey’s history is more universally reviled than that gargantuan pastiche of all things ‘90s, “The Clone Saga”.  It’s a story so overblown and lousy, the writers were throwing self-deprecating in-jokes into the story before it was even finished, a trend which continues even today.

The jokes don't make it any less painful

However, as loathed as “The Clone Saga” is among fans, if Marvel attempted to erase it from continuity those same fans would rebel against the idea.  To even suggest such a fundamental change to a beloved character’s life is just…WRONG.  As an example, look at what happened when Peter's marriage to Mary Jane was written out of Spider-history.

It was this

This trend of slavish devotion to continuity is not unique to comic fans, but it is perhaps more widespread among them than fans of any other medium.  Because of this, Marvel has treaded lightly around “soft reboots” for decades, attempting to avoid alienating longtime fans while simultaneously making books accessible for new ones.  DC Comics, on the other hand, kicked the door down last year with “The New 52”, which was virtually a line-wide continuity reboot.  Now, a year later, the biggest question among DC fans seems to be not, “Which characters have benefited from the fresh start?” but rather, “Where is Wally West???  Where is Stephanie Brown???  Did ANY of those stories actually happen?!”

Sorry, Spoiler fans: the answer to that last question is, “No, they didn’t.”  But don’t fear!  Remember, we’re reading fiction here!  So if you want to read those stories again, they still exist!  So, for YOU, yes, they DID still happen.  The funny thing is, nerds can be incredibly selective about this sort of thing.  For around 25 years, The Dark Knight Returns has been a shining example of the comics medium and has been almost unanimously praised by everyone (except possibly present-day Frank Miller, who probably wishes he had gone a little more overboard with it).

Case in point

The Dark Knight Returns maintains this status despite the fact that it takes place outside of established continuity.  This proves that fans CAN, on occasion, accept a quality story for its own merits without trying to cram it into a large, unwieldy history, and that creators can craft not simply good stories, but GREAT stories, when given the freedom to do so.  Everyone is happy.

But, like I said, this is not a phenomenon exclusive to comics, and perhaps no other entertainment franchise represents the pitfalls of sticking to your own long-winded continuity than Star Trek.  Star Trek is a series that became so weighted down by its tropes and audience expectations that increasingly large portions of every series from The Next Generation onward became boring and predictable.

"...to tepidly go where no one has gone before."

When you have to write AND publish a chronology of events for your fictitious universe, you’re not only making it harder to tell stories that don’t rely on the past, you’re also making your series virtually impenetrable for new fans.  Giving a character a backstory is one thing.  Characters should come with a degree of baggage; stories, however, shouldn't.  It took until 2009 for the Star Trek train to get set back on its proper course, and it took a reboot to do it.  Even then, the fact that J.J. Abrams made an awesome movie that both fans and non-fans could enjoy was irrelevant; without that time travel, alternate universe subplot, about 50% of the audience would have hated the movie on principle alone, because it would have contradicted accepted canon.

You mean this didn't happen anymore?!  BLASPHEMY!

How important is canon?  Is the animated Star Wars: The Clone Wars canonical?  What about the Star Trek novels?  Is Crisis on Infinite Earths still something the DC heroes had to deal with?  The truth is it doesn’t really matter.  It’s a story.  At the end of the day, the only question that matters is: “Is the story any good?”

NEXT: Wayne Spencer IS alive! And he IS going to talk about the next great civil war of our time: Nerds vs. Nerds.

Storytelling in Video Games

by Bernadette O'Keeffe

Video Games have been coming into mainstream entertainment over the past decade and have held a special place in the heart of those who have embraced them. And yet, many non-players don't believe that meaningful writing exists within the medium.

Video games have a rich array of stories and ways to tell them. Even someone who isn't a frequent movie-goer can say that films are an art form with unique storytelling techniques. They have lighting and sound and depth of field and actors performances, transitions, and of course, good scripts. Video games have all of that AND something more. Games are, by nature, interactive. The player is not watching the protagonist achieve a goal but rather the player is directly participating in that experience. My favorite example of this is in the horror genre. When a person watches a horror film they think, "Oh no! Don't go in that room! You're gonna die!" But when you play a horror video game you think, "Oh no! Why do I have to go into that room! I'm  gonna die!" Clearly a completely different experience.

I cannot rightfully talk about writing in video games without mentioning Bioware. They are in the forefront of my mind when it comes to storytelling because of beloved titles like Mass Effect and Dragon Age. Both game series use a sort of morality system which allows your choices to govern where the story goes and how people perceive you. The best thing about Bioware games is that their characters are so multi-dimensional. You can't help but fall in love with them. My favorite Bioware character, Mordin Solus,  is an alien scientist from Mass Effect who is logical and very perceptive. You find out that he had a hand in developing one of the very worst genetic diseases in the galaxy all in the name of keeping the peace. While he knows it was the most logical thing to do he regrets it and eventually seeks to make amends. He is also very interested in the arts because of what it says about culture.

 I really could go on for ages about Bioware games so I'm going to stop myself. What I will say is that you will go back time and time again to play the Bioware games, because you want to see the characters again. They really have, in a way, become your friends.

People still talk about Shadow of the Colossus. The story is of a young warrior who's love has died and he can bring her back to life if he slays sixteen giant beings of nature: the Colossus. Almost everything in the game is conveyed without words. But perhaps the most stunning thing about Shadow is when you take a step back from the protagonist's goal, you realize the magnitude of what you are doing. The Colossus have existed for ages without harming anyone, now you are going to kill them for the protagonist's own reasons? Some don't even fight back because they are so gentle. A lot is said in this game without a lot being spoken.

Some games have been celebrated as truly interactive movies. In recent years the Uncharted series, an action-adventure third-person shooter/platformer, and Heavy Rain, a psychological thriller, have truly begun to blur the lines between games and film. Now when it comes to storytelling I was very impressed with the recent Uncharted installment.  It is more or less a modern Indiana Jones minus the whip. Our protagonist is Nathan Drake, a treasure hunter that often gets into bigger adventures than he plans on when many of his endeavors turn out to have a supernatural twist. Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception is another stunning example of interactive storytelling. Watch as Drake must swallow his pride and ask for the help of Elena, his on again/off again love interest:

Later, while Elena gets them into a city, Sully points out to Drake that she is still wearing the ring. They talk for less than a minute but immediately we understand that Drake proposed to Elena, she accepted and then Drake somehow messed everything up. We don't know how or when this all happened but it is written so well that we recognize the problem in their relationship.

In Heavy Rain there isn't just one protagonist, instead the player must navigate the stories of four different protagonists to solve the crime. Heavy Rain blurs the line between game and film. You follow the character through their daily routine and then become entrenched in the mystery. Dialogue is handled differently in the game as well. In an average dialogue menu the player has a few different things to say but he or she can literally stop, go and make a sandwich, and eat it before returning and talking to the non-playable character (NPC). In Heavy Rain, the dialogue is timed so if you don't ask or answer something quickly enough the NPC will stop talking to you. Finally, the game brings consequences to a new level because when one of the four protagonists die they are dead for the rest of the game. You officially lose the game when all four protagonists die, and the player must start over from the beginning. The mechanics of this game alone make playing Heavy Rain a completely different story experience than most games. Oh, a nice transition to mechanics as storytelling!

Video game storytelling is not always scripting. Planning  however, goes into every facet of the game. Not only are aesthetics taken into account, but mechanics. Check out this game, Loneliness. Really, go play it, it's only about three minutes. Go ahead... I'll wait.

Click me!

Ok, good. Loneliness is amazing. There is no dialogue, there is barely any thought to aesthetics. The story is told via mechanics. What did that do to you as the player? Did you feel sad? Were you angry? Did you think those dots thought they were too good for your dot? Did you think "Well, who needs you anyway?" Or did you try every time to approach another group thinking, this time it'll be different? What about that last dot? You just experienced a story you could never experience in a film or a book.

We promise that our next rant will be by Wayne Spencer guys! :D

Feel the Love, Fake the Substance

By: Nate Bowden

@ActionNate

Does love conquer all? I dunno, but it can definitely beat the bloody hell out of a good story if it’s not there for a reason! There are plenty of great love stories out there, and great romances that give characters depth, but as writers I think we’re aiming for Han Solo and Leia, rather than say, Anakin and Padme, am I right?

"But... all you need is love..."

So why do some go right, while others go oh, so wrong? Well, short of giving Lucas the reins with no oversight, the worst thing you can do is force love into a story where it doesn’t belong just to fake substance.

Hollywood, for the sake of box office draw, always needs a leading lady to balance the male action hero. Now, before I’m drawn and quartered for being a sexist pig, I submit that this does a huge disservice to a female lead as well as the story. If the hero is in love, it damn well better serve as the motivation. Ocean’s 12, see Ocean’s 11 for reference. Too many times have great actresses and characters been relegated to the second fiddle as a flat, soulless object of the hero’s desire, because whatever the story needs, it don’t need love!

The question mark is apt...

If there is one leading man that doesn’t need love, it’s Batman. Here’s a man that is so psychologically warped that women should be nothing but a distraction to his own personal war. “Not so!” says Hollywood. Vicki Vale, Selina Kyle (twice)… the lovely Dr. Chase Meridian… whoever the fuck that is, and of course Rachel Dawes. Nolan’s Batman is a re-imagining that relied on the Dawes character for motivation. Which, as good as these movies are, doesn’t serve Batman, he already has motivation. Does anyone think the real Batman would retire because the girlfriend he shouldn’t have had in the first place, died? If anything, he doubles down on that psychosis! See A Death in the Family.

As Rises indicates, if he finds love and happiness, he’s not Batman anymore. Let the Batman brood and leave the lovey-dovey stuff for a less damaged hero, okay? 

Speaking of moody men not needing love interests, the small screen’s been known to force a pairing or two as well. The overly beautiful lead detectives on Law and Order: SVU got together. A cop show about rape and child abuse, ah love is in the air. Spooky Mulder had no business finding love with Dr. Scully. Both of these are a case of fan interference. (calm down Bartman, nerd fans not sports fans) If a great show, maybe with a flirty dynamic, runs long enough, fans clamor for what they shouldn’t be allowed, and if the show runners cave, that series will go down like the Hindenburg! It will never make the great movie it was meant to. Chris Carter knows that now… I hope.

Not all romances are a death sentence. Often romantic tension is what we tune in for, Ross and Rachel, Lois and Clark, Jim and Pam… um, that chick from Bones and David Boreanaz, I assume? But how many times have you heard “The show really went downhill once X and Y got together…”? That’s because the tension was the focus of those stories. Once the hunt was over, what were we watching for? Have we ever seen a sequel to a Hugh Grant movie?

"They say our chemistry is to die for."                               "I don't get the chinese food thing."

A great, storied relationship means the hero’s growth comes from learning to love, like Jerry Maguire being completed by Dorothy Boyd.(yeah, I had you at hello, well, see my rant on cliché, alright?) But if you’re the God of Thunder and your moral flaw is hubris, you don’t find  humility by inexplicably falling in love with a mere mortal because she offered to give you a ride to your Mjolnir.

"Says here in the script that we love each other."                "Uh, do what now?

We’ve had some setbacks here at Ran(t)som Notes, 

but next: Wayne Spencer really will rail on snobby nerds…