Thursday, June 3, 2010

Hiatus

Hi to those who have been reading. The point of starting this blog was to get myself back into the groove of writing regularly. Having done so for a couple months now, it's time that I focus my efforts back to more creative forms of writing; specifically I need to get back to work on a project that's been bouncing around in my mind for several years now. As such, if all goes well, it may be a while before I add anything new to my blog. I'll leave it off with a couple of short dramatic monologues that I wrote a couple years ago. The one entitled "The Last of Three" is actually part of the project I'm working on. Thanks for reading and hopefully I can get the written portion of this project taken care of and can then get back to updating the blog in the not-too-distant future.



The Cellar

It was well into November
When my dear Eliza drew
What I fear now to remember
Were her last breaths—one and two.

It was I who spied her lastly.
It was I who held her close.
But if I should grieve so vastly
I should tell then, I suppose,

Of the day I met this wonder
In the darkness of the lake,
Where I’d plunged myself deep under
Hoping never to awake.

But her hands with great compassion
Had from death’s grip set me free.
And I stared—my face turned ashen—
At the one who’d marry me.

Though at first she’d hear none of it,
Having done but what one would,
I had sharp desires to covet
She who’s wed, I understood.

After all, she loved me surely.
Had she ever his life spared?
She would not have saved me merely
To be one of two who share.

Thus I waited ‘til one morning
When my liberator left.
And with utter lack of warning
Did commit the minor theft

Of a vacant-valued lover
Whom my dear Eliza said
Was a pleasure to discover.
But I much preferred him dead.

Then to spite this beast I hated,
For the crimes he did commit;
And for raping my love fated;
I decreed he always sit

In the cellar—ever silent—
To repent intentions stark.
And to hear his sole assailant
And Eliza in the dark.

Though she wept for many hours,
And the hours, themselves, for weeks,
In a year I was empowered,
As my heart she did then seek.

We were married in the winter,
And of course I’d never tell
Why I lacked the surety in her
To unlock the dusty cell.

And she did as I instructed
For the first two years or so.
But the lover I’d abducted
Must have summoned from below.

For one night as I lay sleeping,
Or at least to her it seemed,
She decided to go creeping
And could scarce hold back her scream.

I approached her weeping madly,
For my deeds were now exposed.
And her eyes—those tears—were sadly
Evidence that, like my foes

She must be kept still to linger.
Thus I’m not ashamed to note
That I sealed with several fingers
My beloved’s meager throat.



The Last of Three

The stars were hiding ‘neath the clouds.
And oh! That noise was heard so loud.
The piercing screams that woke the town
Still echo in my mind.
With haste had I put on some clothes
And left my home to follow those
Who’d heard it too and also rose
Not knowing what they’d find.

As we approached that eerie home—
That place you’d never go alone,
Since you were children and would moan
That hauntings were for real—
We felt what could be best explained
As too much strangeness to sustain,
And thus, decided to refrain
Until the sun’s reveal.

By morn we had returned before
The edifice with boarded doors
From which the terror had been born,
And started making pleas.
How could we send a woman, say,
To enter and come face to face
With unknown evils of this place,
And keep our conscience clean?
And so a draw was fast declared
To single out, by methods fair,
The chosen few who—brave or scared—
Would then inspect the scene.

The first of three was an old man
Who held a cane so he could stand.
And letting go of his wife’s hand
He led off through the door.
We waited what had seemed to be
A fragment of eternity
Until we mindfully agreed,
That he must live no more.

The next name drawn was sweet Francine
Whose slender face turned slightly green.
But—once reminded she’d agreed—
Crept slowly up the walk
Again we watched with hopeful eyes
And prayed she’d meet not her demise
Until, they said, she must have died
According to the clock.

The third name drawn was mine, of course—
A teenaged boy of youthful force.
And thus I headed t’ward the source
Of that which I feared most.
And so I entered—slow at first—
As in my mind I had rehearsed.
Then up the stairs I ran headfirst,
Afraid I’d see a ghost.

Instead I tripped on the old man
Who’d lost his cane and couldn’t stand.
He seemed long-dead—his withered hands
Were oddly cold and grey.
I braced myself and did not shout
My sweaty hand cupping my mouth
And hurried on along my route
While fearing end of day.

The stairs veered sharply to the right
And as I turned I knew true fright
As near the top—a ghastly sight—
Lay lifeless, sweet Francine.
Her hair—once blonde—had turned to grey.
Her face, still green, now showed decay.
Up three more stairs I made my way
And left the rest unseen.

Then through the door found at the head
Of cursed stairs and blood so red,
I made my way and on the bed
I found an old oak chest.
And as I opened up this prize
Of mixed intentions, I surmised,
I feared it may be my demise.
Instead I gawked, impressed.

The chest was filled with gems and gold
And other riches to behold.
And in that moment, feeling bold,
I ran back down the stairs.
I didn’t look back at Francine
Nor at the dead man at my feet.
I ran back out onto the street
But none were there to care.

The crowd had left, or so it seemed.
And why they’d gone, I couldn’t dream
But I rushed home at breakneck speed,
And stepped in through my door.
My mother seemed much frailer than
When I’d last seen her. And instead
Of greeting me as she once had
She looked at me in horror.

She shrieked and ordered me to leave
I begged her, hand clamped on her sleeve.
And once I turned away to leave
I said “I love you, Mom”
She yelled at me to leave her side
And rushing tears clouded her eyes.
But moments later she’d confide
That she had lost her son.

And so I left my mother there—
Confused, alone, and unaware
That at her son she had just stared—
And went back to that place.
I ventured up those stairs once more
Back to that room on the third floor,
But by the end my chest was sore,
I had to slow my pace.

I fell upon my knees but still
I crawled upon them, feeling ill
And did so painfully until
My ordeal I’d surpassed.
I opened up the chest again
And spilled the treasure on the bed
And in the bottom lay my dread
But in the shape of glass.

A mirror, ornate and unused
And as I glared at it, bemused,
I understood my mother’s ruse,
For I was young no more.
Instead my hair was white as snow
And hands were wrinkled just as though
I’d grown up eighty years or so,
Since I’d walked through the door.

It seems each stair had aged me by
A year, which explains why they’d died.
Too old to handle, though they tried,
The treasure’s deadly price.
And as I sat there, lowered crown,
I screamed a scream that woke the town,
And knew my time was coming ‘round
For I had climbed them twice.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Super Mario Galaxy 2

Another early post, as tomorrow I will be too busy playing the above game to write about it...

I mentioned last week that "Super Mario Galaxy 2" was being released...on May 23rd to be precise. I picked up my pre-order and took it for a spin and was actually pleasantly surprised with it. I was both right and wrong in my assumptions. Though it most definitely is more of the same (for those familiar with the original) in that it utilizes the same game engine, the same gravity effects, etc., I'm only about half-way through the second world (I like to savor the Super Mario experience) and it literally destroys its predecessor in every respect. The best comparison I can come up with is comic book movies. The first one is always heavier-handed, with lengthy character introductions and back-story. It serves to situate us and ease us into the universe so that the second one can then really take off (think "Batman Begins" and "The Dark Knight"). Such is the case with "Super Mario Galaxy 2".

The first one introduced us to the space setting, got us comfortable with the gravity mechanics and being able to run all the way around a spherical level, taught us that black holes indicate areas where we can't run all the way around, lest we want to plunge to our death, and gave us a basic understanding of the game mechanics as a whole which, let's face it, were mainly borrowed from "Super Mario 64".  The sequel, however, takes those concepts and runs with them. It makes the game what, in my opinion, the first one should have been. It's more difficult (at least the first worlds are harder than the early sections of the last game) and there's just something more inspired about the level design. It's like that sense of youthful fun that was missing in "Super Mario Sunshine" and to a lesser degree in the original "Super Mario Galaxy" has been restored. Playing through the levels, it's mind-boggling to consider the degree of care and planning that went into it all. I can't imagine there will be another platformer this year on any of the major gaming platforms that will trump this one. It's just that good. Even the sections that seamlessly switch into 2D for some throwback side-scrolling best anything that I encountered in "New Super Mario Bros. Wii", a game that was entirely designed as a 2D side-scroller.

Also, the hub world has been cast aside in favor of a more standardized level-selection screen. Though I thought I would miss the aspect of "finding" the levels, I don't; and a main contributing factor to that is probably that I strongly disliked the hub world in the original Galaxy. Compared to the castle in "Super Mario 64" and even Delfino Island in "Super Mario Sunshine" the spaceship from "Super Mario Galaxy" came off as fairly uninspired. The level selection system they've adopted in this one is therefore more akin to "Super Mario World" for the SNES, though I wish they would infuse it with as many secrets. Can't have it all, I suppose. In either case, it works well and therefore drops the tedium of the last one.

Putting aside gameplay, it's also worth noting that this is a gorgeous Wii game. Nintendo knows how to milk everything they can out of their console's modest processing power. Other developers need to take notice; other than "Metroid Prime: Corruption", no third-party effort seems to come close to this quality of visuals. And the sound work is also commendable. It's always great to hear fully orchestrated themes, and they take greater care this time around to include even more tunes from the Mario games or yore.

I've read some reviews that end with comments in the vein of "this is the reason I still play games" and I would have to agree. This is videogaming for the very reason games were conceived in the first place: fun. Everything about "Super Mario Galaxy 2" is inspired and polished; you can't ask for much more from a game. For Wii owners, this is a must buy!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Dark Night of Waldo

So I'm sitting here and am really not sure what to write about. There's no standout movie or album or videogame this week that comes to mind. Well, there was "The Great Waldo Search", I suppose. What is this surely fantastic product, bearing the never-fail Waldo logo, you ask? It is, in fact, a game from 1992, made for the Super Nintendo and Sega Genesis. I happened to play it on a Genesis emulator.

When it comes to movies, I'm almost as fascinated with the utterly terrible as I am with the genuinely sublime, and it's the same story with videogames. Until emulators came around though, I wouldn't have been able to play most of these awful games since, as a kid, I needed to carefully spend my $3.42 on worthwhile game rentals. But as I grew older and saw videogames for what I truly believe they are, an art form, I couldn't deny my curiosity at the depths of peoples' bad ideas. Now with an emulator on hand and the internet at one's disposal, it is easy to access any game in the entire library of any old game console.

Having grown up on the Nintendo side of the tracks, I rarely played any of the Sega products, save flagship titles such as "Sonic the Hedgehog". So the other day when I went to a friend's place to play some retro games, I thought it may be a good idea to change it up and explore some 16-bit Sega titles. We hopped in and out of several games, sometimes trying to find greatness, sometimes wanting to laugh at horribly executed messes and in the end, I was left with a couple conclusions:

1) Despite some decent platforming games on Sega's console--the "Sonic" games, "Ristar", and "Rocket Knight Adventures" to name a few--none of them come anywhere close to offering the experience of a "Super Mario Bros." game. It seems almost sad, in that they had several Mario games from which to steal great ideas (on which they could have easily added a creative spin) and yet they seemingly opted not to. And the fact is, all of the games I listed above are good. They have somewhat interesting play mechanics, cool midi music, etc...and yet they feel hollow. Playing these games (which are found on many lists of the best Genesis games ever) helped cement my theory that nobody has ever (and maybe will ever) make platformers that can compete with Nintendo's. I've spoken highly of Shigeru Miyamoto in the past, but it's worth saying that even without his own designing skills on display, Nintendo makes better platformers than any other company on the market today. As an example, "Super Mario Galaxy 2" comes out this weekend. It will very likely simply be an expansion on the original "Super Mario Galaxy" and yet still will end up being the best platformer of the year.

2) "Where's Waldo" should never be ported to a console format. I remember being a kid and looking through the books. At least there was a mild degree of challenge there, like sometimes it took a minute or two to find our little traveler. In the epic "Great Waldo Search" you move left or right, causing the screen to scroll, and try to find Waldo and a scroll in each level. The first time you come across Waldo, it's hilarious. He takes up a fair portion of the screen and sticks out like a sore thumb. On the second level, Waldo started off right in the middle of the starting screen! And I know you're probably thinking "hey, this is a game for kids after all." But the fact is that even for preschoolers, this game has got a touch of the downs. There are so many other decent titles out there made for a younger age group that actually offer some kind of game play. It seems that in the early 90s they hadn't yet figured out how to make them. They did, however, already have a keen sense of exploiting a trend to make a buck. (Did they make a Pogs videogame or am I just having a genius idea 15 years too late?)

Other than that, hmmm let's see. Perhaps I'll simply recommend another good album. There's a collaboration of Danger Mouse, Sparklehorse and David Lynch that hit the internet last year entitled "Dark Night of the Soul". Though I listened to it a bit at the time, I quickly was onto other things and didn't make my way back to it until lately. The fact is, it's probably one of the best albums of 2009 (in my humble opinion of course) that almost nobody has heard. And there's a reason for that, and also a reason that it hit the internet and not store shelves. Apparently there was some kind of copyright issue as far as EMI was concerned, and therefore the album never could receive an official release or the artists involved could be faced with lawsuits. Many suspect this has nothing to do with this album but is rather a simple issue of the large label making things difficult for Danger Mouse after some bad blood following his previous outing, "The Grey Album" which was a mash-up of The Beatles' White album and Jay-Z's Black album. I won't get into all of that...there's plenty written about it already. The fact of the matter is that after completing this album, they were unable to release it, so they did the next best thing. What they actually released into stores was a set containing 50 pages of artwork by David Lynch and a blank CD. The album then mysteriously leaked online. (And wouldn't you know it, it burns quite nicely right onto that there blank CD!) The songs themselves range from dreamy psychedelia, to self-deprecating quasi-punk, to lullaby ballads for the sad and lonely. It's an odd, yet interesting mix that somehow thematically ties its parts together into some kind of coherent whole. And if you want to hear it (and you should), well then the only way to do so is to download it. 

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Never Trust a Corpse

I was lucky enough to catch up with a friend this week, a fellow horror-fiend, who just happened to suggest we watch an indie flick from 2008 by the name of "I Sell The Dead". The cover art was cool and retro and it starred Ron Perlman (of Hellboy fame) and Dominic Monaghan who I'd only seen as Merry in Peter Jackson's "Lord of the Ring" trilogy.

It was one of those great moments when you expect very little and are amply rewarded. As it turns out, "I Sell the Dead" is a horror-comedy, which I personally consider the most challenging of all film genres, with the accent placed squarely on the comedy. Playing out much like a horror anthology, with four episodes sandwiched within a fifth of sorts, it tells the story of two grave-robbers just trying to make a buck in the poor ol' 1800s.

Writer/Director Glenn McQuaid really squeezes a lot out of his surely modest budget, making clever use of costumes, sets, green-screening and even some EC comics-inspired animation. As a testament to his creativity, watch this film and try to keep in mind that the entire thing was shot in New York. The script is witty and charming, offering countless winks and nudges to the genre and its conventions. But where as this type of film can often fall into camp territory, seemingly mocking the genre, "I Sell the Dead" is a labor of love.

Though the acting is solid all around--even the bit parts are played with genuine enthusiasm suggesting all involved were truly having a good time--the real showstopper here is Larry Fessenden, as grave-robber Willie Grimes. He perfectly embodies his character and commits to the script, which is something many highly-paid Hollywood actors have forgotten how to do. Monaghan is also quite good, offering the youthful charm that you'd expect from him, and the chemistry between the two is really the meat of this film.

I won't say too much more, as I don't want to ruin anything; the beauty of this type of film is the unknown. In fact, that should be the beauty of most films....shame on you, elaborate movie trailers. But as you can clearly tell, I highly recommend this little gem. If you've got a penchant for dark humor, this is a must. If you also happen to be a long-time horror fan, then why are you still reading this? Get going!

And oh, did I mention there's also a creepy little role played by the Tall Man himself, Angus Scrimm? Yeah.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

The National - High Violet

Those who have read my previous posts will notice that The National's "Boxer" was my favorite album of 2007. That is always a difficult feat to follow-up, let alone to repeat. And though I can't say that "High Violet" (out May 10, 2010) will be my favorite album of this year (I think that for the moment Beach House's "Teen Dream" is still slightly ahead) it will definitely be at the top of the list. Contributions from other indie icons, including Bon Iver and Sufjan Stevens don't hurt either!

This time they've changed up the formula a touch. Now, existing The National fans need not worry, all of those awe-inspiring moments are still here, along with Matt Berninger's beautifully crafted lyricism, Bryan Devendorf's creative drumming and of course, endless melancholy. It's the aesthetic choices, more than anything, that have changed. On "Boxer", every song seemed to crisply revolve around Berninger's unmistakable baritone. This time around, the instrumentation is more lively and is more so made up of dense walls of sound. Where as the hooks were once subtle and needed time to hit home, these hooks bare much more immediacy. It's not to say that, like all other tunes in their songbook, these songs don't grow on you the more you listen. That would be misleading in that there is plenty to discover under the surface. But they definitely grab hold of you faster than the songs from any of their previous albums. Though the aesthetics get changed up, the thematics certainly do not; this is yet another painful evening with our guide, Matt Berninger, as he takes us through failed relationships, uneasiness, and heartbreak, possibly even with a less hopeful spirit than on previous outings. It is ironic to me then, that it may also be the album that finally launches these guys beyond the realm of indie-rock and into the mainstream. Let's hope they don't pull a Modest Mouse if that happens. Here's a quick run-through of the tracks:

1. Terrible Love (if that title doesn't sum up The National, I don't know what does)
They debuted this song on Fallon, if I'm not mistaken, and it immediately shoves the aesthetic difference of this album in your face. It's rough around the edges, not too polished, and the lyrics are slightly muddled within the instrumentation, rather than being front and center. But as soon as the first line is sung ("It's a terrible love and I'm walking with spiders") you're hooked.

2. Sorrow
"Don't leave my hyper heart alone, on the water / Cover me in rag and bone / Sympathy / Cause I don't want to get over you."
Seriously, need I say more? This is the moment I said to myself "I love this album."

3. Anyone's Ghost
Two on the kick drum and two on the snare...this one comes out with an almost head-bobbable beat. It's a song about distrust, hurt feelings and the damage caused by the combination of the two. ("I had a hole in the middle where the lightning went through").

4. Little Faith
This track jumped out at me right away, mostly due to the 70s prog-style bass line. It creates tension that reminds me of "Start a War" from their previous album, as Berninger admits "I set a fire just to see what it kills".

5. Afraid of Everyone
Many seem to be naming this their favorite song on the album. Though I personally don't agree, and would never choose a favorite song on an album by The National until I've listened to the whole thing 40 or 50 times, I could easily imagine this song on the radio. It's a slow build to an intense climax. Berninger seems to know exactly when to take the melody up a step to match the growing intensity of the song.  

6. Bloodbuzz Ohio
Most fans have had this on their iPods for quite a while now, as it was the first single released some time ago. It's a sad story of a man returning home to a relationship he took for granted, and likely lost. ("I never thought about love when I thought about home.")

7. Lemonworld
The centerpiece of the album, I read somewhere that they recorded over 70 takes of the track, changing up the effects, the mixing, etc. and in the end they settled on...the very first take! They wanted to leave this one rough and unpolished.

8. Runaway
This one could have come right off "Boxer". It has that same crisp and quietly potent quality. It's a hushed little break-up anthem in which the speaker declares "We don't bleed when we don't fight / Go ahead, go ahead, throw your arms in the air tonight". The way it lyrically captures (and therefore creates) the visual scene that is taking place is remarkable. You can literally imagine the movement and body language...who needs a video when it can be done with words alone?

9. Conversation 16
Another track that caught my attention when I first listened to this album was this hauntingly sad number about a couple pretending to be happy despite their increasingly fractured relationship, or maybe it's long-dead. The artifice of it all is showcased when Berninger proclaims "It's a Hollywood summer" and "We belong in a movie".

10. England
I knew Sufjan Stevens had contributed to a song on this album and when this one started with it's oddly-familiar piano line, I was sure this was the one. I was wrong. But listen to his song "Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, IL" from his Illinois album and tell me I was crazy to think so. In either case, this is another track that gradually builds to a raucous climax, including horns, even! (Ahem, another Stevens staple.)

11.  Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks
This is the lullaby at the end of the album. And though it was entirely about heartbreak, broken relationships and the pain and depression that potentially come with love or its loss, this final track seemingly absolves hopeless romantics of their sins, offering that "All the very best of us / String ourselves up for love".

I can't wait to keep getting deeper into this one. Being an avid fan of The National, I know that as with all of their albums, it will only get better after dozens and dozens of repeat listens!

Good night, fractured lovers.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Gory Goodness

This one's coming a day early; tomorrow there will simply be no time...

So over the past couple of weeks I've indulged in the gorier side of the arts. First, a friend and I finished playing through God of War 3 for the Playstation 3. Having played through this entire massive-scale trilogy, I'm left with mixed feelings. Or maybe the effect has just somewhat worn off. I remember playing the first of the three games several years ago and being genuinely impressed. The formula was simple: kill...everything. Hidden beneath the story of a Spartan warrior essentially selling his soul to Ares, the god of war, it was little more than an old-school button-masher. But what made the gameplay so compelling was the utter brutality of it all. The way the action drifted in and out of slow-mo as you massacred entire armies was so oddly satisfying. It has been a long time since a videogame character had literally felt powerful. The fact that the game revolved around the concept of becoming powerful enough to kill a god didn't hurt either. Then came part two, which is easily my favorite of the trilogy. It offered more polished graphics, more variety of enemies and more gigantic boss battles. The game opened on an epic boss battle that seemed to go on for hours. Essentially, I finished the first game and thought "how can they possibly make the sequel any more epic?" And then they absolutely did in every way. Even the environments seemed to come to life in the second game in a way that wasn't quite present in the first. And of course, having learned to kill a god, why not take on the king? So the mission at hand was dispatching of Zeus.

This all leads us back to the final installment in the series. Visually, there is no comparison; this game gets all of the juice it can out of the PS3's processor and offers more enemies, constant boss battles and a finale that just seems to go on and on. The environments are constantly moving and changing and it is at moments mind-boggling how much is going on at once on the screen. (Likely today's newer gamers wouldn't even stop to notice, but when I was a kid, a fraction of these enemies would have slowed the frame-rate of an 8 or 16-bit game to a crawl.) And the violence...oh the violence! This game takes it to a new level. Every imaginable internal organ is ripped out of enemies at one point or another. There's even a sequence in which you're bashing in a boss's head by hammering on the Circle button as the camera gets so covered in splatter that you can't see anything. You're permitted to keep mashing that Circle button until you feel you've unleashed enough aggression, and then, when you're all done and ready, the game continues.

So then what's missing? Well, first off, though these have never been games lauded for inspired writing, I felt this game really had nowhere to go, story-wise, and thus held no surprises. The point is simply to kill everything and everyone, knowing that at the end you'll face Zeus and win. I mean, they basically tell you so in the intro. It's kind of an elaborate retread of the second game in the series. There's also the fact that after playing through the first two of these games, you're inevitably desensitized to it all. Somehow they managed to surpass my expectations in how they raised the bar with the second game, but this third one just felt like more of the same. Having said that, I enjoyed playing it and fans of the series will surely enjoy it, but I think it's made obvious, never more so than by the odd, overlong "introspective" sequence at the end, that the writers/designers have run out of fuel.

Moving along, the other thing I thought I would mention is that, after writing my list of favorite horror movies, I decided to revisit Lucio Fulci's "The Beyond". I hadn't seen it in years and sometimes nostalgia can be misleading, but in this case, I still maintain that it is one of the most creative Italian gore flicks I've had the pleasure to watch. The beauty of Fulci is that he doesn't like to overuse cuts. He understands that to make his audience reel (see what I did there?), he can't allow them to look away. As such, we are treated to a series of violent murder set-pieces, each seemingly attempting to outdo the other. Some of the choices are, however, slightly odd. The best example of this is when a blind character is murdered by her seeing eye dog. Anyone who is a Dario Argento fan already knows where I'm going with this. It seems all too familiar since we've seen it before in Argento's "Suspiria". Perhaps this was Fulci's homage to the master, but in either case, in a film so full of creative death sequences, why replicate something we've already seen, and to less effect? It's why "The Beyond" is most famous for its tarantula murder scene and not for the canine sequence.

"The Beyond" is, much like many of the Italian horror films of the 70s and early 80s, more focused on audio-visual atmosphere than plot, which is as simple as: woman inherits hotel which happens to be situated on one of the seven portals to hell; people die. The beauty of it all--if it can be called such a thing--is the mood, that oh-so-Italian synth soundtrack that blares out as a slow death plays out before our eyes. The characters never really fight back and there aren't really any chases...they are there to die in the most horrifying ways possible, no more, no less. It's also worth noting that if this film were remade, it would simply fail, and that's for one obvious reason: CGI. They would kill everyone off in astounding fashion, only it would all look like a cartoon. "The Beyond" shows off the true art of special effects back when they were a craft, not a form of animation. I won't ruin the various death sequences, but if you're a gorehound like me and haven't yet seen this, run....run fast and find it. Only make sure it's the unrated/uncut version that has now surfaced, since all previous versions were butchered and are missing the parts that make this film so worthwhile. And while you enjoy it, don't forget to pay attention to some of the truly beautiful cinematography, such as the long panoramic shot of the car on the highway (you'll know the one I mean). It's as if Fulci throws a few of those gorgeous shots in there to remind us that he doesn't have to spend his time in the trenches of death and dismemberment, he chooses to.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Getting Caught Up Part III: 8-bit Bliss

So here we are, week 3 and the final week of catching up. The topic at hand, of course, is video games. They've played an important role in my life and I have fairly strong opinions as far as the benefits video games offer to children and their development, not only as far as hand-eye coordination, but also important life skills, such as problem solving and logical thinking, not to mention how if you break bricks with your head, they may contain money!

Though we had an Atari when I was very young, and I did enjoy some of the games that it offered--Pitfall, Venture, ET (okay, not ET, but everybody hated that game...they literally had to dump all of the cartridges into a landfill, it bombed so hard...seriously, look it up)--my true passion for gaming started with Nintendo. And much of that was due to a man by the name of Shigeru Miyamoto, who created such games as Donkey Kong, Super Mario Bros., and The Legend of Zelda to name a few.

A game like the original Super Mario Bros. seems simple in design by today's standards, but it must be kept in mind that with that game, Miyamoto invented the 2-D side-scrolling platformer...something that is still imitated to this day! Nobody had, before then, imagined a game progressing sideways. Seems silly but it's ingenious when you stop to think about it. He also created the lovable Link and his adventures in Hyrule, creating a formula still used today in the action/adventure genre--many dungeons hidden in a hub world, each containing items integral to completing the next one.

I doubt any game I play for the remainder of my life will compare to those first experiences, in part because the gaming industry has become a money-making behemoth catering to a much broader audience that often favors rehashes or pretty graphics over innovation in gameplay, and in part because Miyamoto, having been promoted within Nintendo, no longer directs games but rather oversees production. It's why the best Zelda game (or fan favorite anyways, since I consider "A Link to the Past"--also a Miyamoto title--to be the best one) is "Ocarina of Time" and not "Twilight Princess". It's why "Super Mario Bros. 3", "Super Mario World", and "Super Mario 64" are all still superior to newer titles in the series such as "Super Mario Sunshine" and "Super Mario Galaxy". Miyamoto's presence, or more so the lack thereof, is painfully noticeable. He brought a sense of child-like wonder to the titles he created, and part of me still hopes that one day he'll resume his former role and give us a truly new Mario and/or Zelda game. He has enough fans out there that if ever such an occurrence were announced, sales of those games would go through the roof. To a great many people, he is the creator of modern video games.

Okay, got that fanboy rant out of me, now moving along...my cousin had a Nintendo first. I would say I was so jealous, but I really wasn't, because we were always together anyways, so I played it plenty! It's one of the things that caused my cousin and I to bond so strongly as children. We got to experience "Mike Tyson's Punch Out!" together, "Megaman" (and even more so "Megaman 2") and somewhat more obscure titles such as "Milon's Secret Castle." Though the very first game I remember him having was "Ghostbusters". We spent hours playing that game, and to be honest, there was nothing that particularly fun about it, other than reaching the end to try and climb all of those damn stairs to get to the roof. I don't remember if we ever beat it, but we sure as hell had fun trying.

And then it happened. I don't recall if it was one or two years later, but it was Christmas morning (yes, Christmas, not holiday, or whatever other politically correct term gets used nowadays. I'm extremely non-religious, but come on, why ruin something so innocent with verbal bureaucracy?) Anyways, my brothers and I all opened our presents. There was no Nintendo under the tree, nor did I expect one to be there...it just seemed too expensive! But there was one little present left under the tree and it was for me and my two brothers. We all tore parts of the paper off, and inside was a little box containing an even littler note, which indicated that we should look in the closet next to the stairs. We did as instructed and emerged with a large wrapped box. My brother ripped off a corner of it and that was it...I had seen enough. The little white stars on the black backdrop were all I needed to see to know exactly what was inside. This had never happened to me before, nor has it happened to me since, but I quite literally fell over. I was so stupidly excited that my knees gave out. It was like a Christmas miracle. It's so wonderful to receive something that you always perceived as being just too good, too expensive, too much. There was no part of my innocent little mind that even suspected my parents would buy us a Nintendo. It came with "Super Mario Bros./Duck Hunt" and my parents had also purchased another game, "1943." I don't like war. I don't like war games. I don't like flying games. None of that mattered; I played the crap out of that game and I loved every minute of it because I played it on MY (okay, our) Nintendo.

And thus began my lifelong fascination. I made my way through all of the iconic NES titles, besting near-impossible games such as "Battletoads" and games that I could beat in a half-hour, such as "Ducktales". A few years later, 1991 to be precise, the Super Nintendo was released. I played it a few times at a neighborhood kid's place and decided it had to be mine. The problem was that I was still quite a few years away from working, so I had very little money. My parents gave us a $2 weekly allowance which I had sometimes (if I hadn't spent it on candy at the corner store) deposited into an account, along with birthday money. My younger brother was worse off than me. My older brother, however, had just recently started delivering newspapers. I couldn't do it alone. I needed to sell them on the idea that we had to have an SNES! So I crunched the numbers and figured out that we could split it three ways...my older brother would pay $75, I would pay $50, and my younger brother would pay $25. The system was a bit more than that but if I recall, my older brother agreed to cover the extra $20 or so. And that was that; I got them to agree, called the store to check the stock, and talked my parents into driving us to the store, all in one evening.

In 1996, a somewhat similar situation came up--the Nintendo 64 was released. That Christmas, rather than buy us any large gifts, my parents took my brothers and I to San Antonio, Texas to visit my cousin who lived there, and still does. While there, I decided I wanted a Nintendo 64 (I had a job delivering fliers by then, so I had some money.) My older brother wasn't interested, but my little brother decided to split the cost with me. I started calling all of the Super K-Marts but it was a hot ticket item. Again, my extremely kind parents agreed to take us to the store, even though it meant we had to go to 2-3 different stores just to gather the system, an extra controller, and a game. We couldn't find "Mario 64" anywhere in town, so we picked up "Waverace" instead and to this day it's one of my favorite racing games, and arguably one of the best water racing games ever. My little brother was acting up on the way back, so my parents instilled the ultimate punishment: he couldn't play the Nintendo 64 that evening. Poor kid...he sat there watching me play it by myself for hours. I felt terrible, though he was a good sport and just tried to get into it without playing it, as an active bystander. He would get to play it the next day, after all.


If you can't tell by now, I have been and likely will always be a die-hard Nintendo fan. Though Miyamoto's presence is lacking from the games now being released, Nintendo still makes the best platforming games and the best action/adventure games out there. I also own a Playstation 3 and have a close friend who owns an Xbox 360, so I get to dabble in all of the major platforms. I was skeptical at first about picking up a Playstation 3, but a couple key features sold me on it. First off, the one I bought is the original 60GB model...the only one with true Playstation 2 backwards compatibility. Not having ever owned a Playstation 2 but loving some of the titles, this was important. It's really unfortunate that Sony has since discontinued this valuable feature...shame on them for that one. I hope mine never breaks! Second and most importantly though, the PS3 is a fairly efficient media server, meaning I can stream movies, TV shows, pictures, and music from my computer right to my TV. I've done exactly what Sony would want me to do; I have made the PS3 the center hub of my entire media setup. It's my video game console, my stereo, my photo viewer, and my DVD/Blu-ray player. If it breaks, I'll have virtually no choice but to replace it. So kudos to Sony, you've made a whore out of me! In their defense, however, they have had some amazing first-party titles, such as "Little Big Planet" and "Heavy Rain".

So though this little recap skipped a generation (ahem...Gamecube...ahem), I hope it has provided a slightly better understanding of how video games have given me one more reason to be passionate. Roger Ebert has apparently dismissed video games, implying that they cannot be considered true art along side of literature and film. My guess is that he must not play them. I can't believe that anyone who genuinely plays these games (whether old or new) would make such a ludicrous argument. Though at first, film was not considered art either, so maybe his opinion will change over time, just like the stuffy old men of that previous generation had to eventually change theirs. Anyone else who thinks that video games do not belong in the realm of art, dish out $10-$15 and play Braid, one of my favorite games of the past decade.

See you next week.