This was a bargain bin year for my gametime as I just don't have the funds to purchase every new must-have game, and therefor can't honestly give you a best games of 2011 list. I just didn't play many new releases, so instead I'll recount my favorite games I played this year that were new to me, regardless of their release dates. Maybe you'll find a few here you missed:
Chibi-Robo
Pure joy - that's the acute way to describe the experience of Chibi-Robo. All great games elicit joy of a sort, but this is the only such game I know that's also about joy. As the titular miniature robot, your one and only purpose in life is to make those around you happy. Being the newest object in a household packed with Japanese absurdities (an egg army, an egomaniac action figure, a tiny pirate, etc.), you earn happy points by assisting the Sanderson family with their myriad problems, among them a lazy dad trying to be a better husband, a daughter who only speaks frog, and a mom trying to hold the family together. The genius of Chibi-Robo is it's an adventure game taking place entirely within one house from Chibi's 4-inch-tall viewpoint.
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D, Link's Awakening DX, Four Swords Special Edition, & Minish Cap
I played a lot of Zelda this year! I have my 3DS to thank for that (thanks 3DS!) as it offered remakes of two games I've played and loved, and two portable Zeldas I somehow missed before. Ocarina as you know by now is the twinkle in my eye, and this 3D portable version makes it shine brighter. Four Swords was fun when included in the GBA Link to the Past cart years ago and it's even more fun now with its new solo mode. Minish Cap, though I'm only an hour or so into it, appears to retain the Zelda charm. And finally the first ever portable Zelda, Link's Awakening (as offered in its GBC DX form on the eShop) - as someone who jumped into the series late with Ocarina, it strikes me just how much the series already found its footing by this, only its third entry.
(Note: please remember I've yet to play the copy of Skyward Sword nestled safely in my sock drawer as I don't presently own a TV, though I've attempted to produce an image by spinning the disc on my finger without significant results)
Mario Kart Arcade GP 2
Two weeks ago I was at Dave & Buster's settling for enjoyable 10 year-old cabinets I'd played before when I turned a corner and found this:
I thought this was only in Japan! I'd longed resigned myself to having two missing stamps on my Mario Kart license as the arcade games weren't available in the states. But there it was! I immediately called my buddy Trey to brag, but apparently he'd played it already and they did bring the sequel here officially to a few hundred locations (without telling me? The nerve!). So how did it play? Exactly as a Mario Kart arcade game should: classic Mario Kart but faster and optimized for a quick thrill. MK staples like Rainbow Road and the starting-line boost trick are all in place, but this Namco-produced game controls looser than its predecessors and more like Ridge Racer (which isn't bad, just takes getting used to). Plus Pac-Man and a roster of Namco characters come along for the ride, though I would never get in a car with them, Luigi. Playa 2 4 lyfe.
Red Dead Redemption
Why o why are there so few western games? Red Dead Redemption sets an impressive standard for the scarcely-populated genre, easily shedding any pretense of simply being Grand Theft Auto on a horse by providing a fully-realized picture of history that lives and breathes with a character entirely unique from Rockstar's other open-world blockbuster.
NBA Jam (iPhone edition)
In fifth grade I mowed a lot of lawns for the right to take home NBA Jam; now most of my fifth grade memories involve boomshakalaking. When NBA Jam's return was announced for Wii, I instinctively mowed fifty lawns before remembering I now have a real job. When the surprise iPhone version dropped earlier this year for only five dollars, I purchased it. Enthusiastically, but with just the amount of hesitation required when buying an iPhone port of a console game. Touch controls are historically butt compared to buttons, especially for fast-paced jams like The Jam. Yet here, somehow, someway, they almost excel. Flicking your fingers to and fro adds to the illusion that you're working b-ball magic. For a measley five bucks it certainly stacks up to the $50 console versions. It's the best iPhone game I've ever played, and worth many lawn mows.
Metroid Fusion
Another missed classic I finally got to play via 3DS. I never got the original Metroid as a kid, and I criminally missed not just Super Metroid but the SNES altogether, so in the last few years I've really enjoyed getting caught up with Nintendo's redheaded stepchild (seriously, they altogether forgot Metroid's 25th birthday this year while giving Zelda a fucking worldwide symphony tour). Metroid Fusion is so damn good that when the free GBA games were released I sidelined Minish Cap, a Zelda I'd anticipated playing since 2004, after one hour to play Fusion for four. The graphics are some of the prettiest I've seen on the GBA, mixing splashes of neon into Metroid's dark palette with memorable effect. The sound design is appropriately dreary and expertly makes me forget I'm playing an emulation of a 16-bit handheld. And the well-paced story makes me want to marathon through all the Metroids in one unblinking sitting.
Donkey Kong Jungle Beat
This game is surely the result of a drunken bet. Betcha can't make a platformer controlled by bongos, someone said. And they said it foolishly, because obviously you can, duh. But who knew it would work this well? The guys at Nintendo, that's who. With power of the woefully-underutilized DK Bongo controller you slap and clap your way across some of the most resplendent run-n-jump jungle gyms ever conceived, no d-pads or analog sticks necessary. Pound right to go right, left to go left, both to jump, and clap to attack. Simple and fun! Now why couldn't Activision do anything as creative with all those plastic guitars?
Back to the Future: The Game
Part of me always wanted another Back to the Future movie, but my practical side said no, the classic trilogy closed the story definitely and perfectly (nuts to those hatin' on Part 3). Then when Telltale announced they'd acquired the rights to the license and applied their trademark point-and-click adventure formula, it dawned on me there should be another chapter and this was the way to make it. Like it and it works as a Part 4, or hate it and dismiss it as just a game and not a true sequel; either way the legacy of the films remains in tact. I'm satisfied with considering it a Part 4, although some technical errors like a near complete lack of lip-synching and glitchy animation throughout keep it from being the immersive cinematic experience it should be. Still it makes my top of the year list because it gets the BTTF characters and comically playful sci-fi lite just right, the story (co-developed by the series' original screenwriter Bob Gale - good move Telltale!) is inventive and gels with the originals just fine, and because my wife and I played through the entire game together. That's one unique benefit of the point-and-click genre which I love: one person plays but everyone watching can enjoy the game, making not just for a fun time but a great shared memory of an experience you conquered together. Bring on Part 5!
And my favorite game of the year of yesteryear is...
Chibi-Robo! Go ahead, dismiss it for its cutesy style (you're the same guy who still won't watch Toy Story because it's a cartoon) - that just leaves more copies for the true gamers with the emotional security and sense of humor to enjoy a crazy made-only-in-Japan family sitcom adventure with a surprising amount of heart, a lot of Zelda in its soul, and a premise so out there it's practically a celebration of the very escapism which makes games so darn fun in the first place. Let the campaign for a 3DS sequel begin here!
Friday, January 6, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
The Serviceable Legends of Zelda
My favorite video game series is The Legend of Zelda. Here is how much so: I bought the newest game, Skyward Sword, and I don't even have a TV.
Why buy the game when I don't have a TV? Truthfully I would've waited if not for the limited edition bundle including this sexy Zelda Wiimote:
I might get destroyed for saying this, but Zeldas usually have weak stories. Lovable characters, colorful dialogue, but very rudimentary, cliche fantasy stories. And I'm hoping that's changed with Skyward Sword.
I moved across the country in a mini van a few weeks ago. Rather than occupy precious cargo space with my big boxy TV, I decided the lack of room was a perfect excuse to leave it behind and find myself in need of a huge flat screen (soon...soon...). Of course all my games and systems made the journey, so Skyward Sword (or "Skyward S Word" - Shiiiiiiiiiit!) sits safely in my sock drawer giving me dreams of a richly detailed, twisting and turning Tolkien-worthy fantasy narrative.
I've played every Zelda game save for a few: Oracle of Seasons/Ages, Spirit Tracks, and the crappy CD-i games, and although the gameplay is routinely masterful the stories are always far too simple. Perhaps they're best likened to fairy tales, being good stories efficiently told, only drawing outlines and leaving the player to color them in, and that's fine. After so many years and so many entries in this series just once I'd like to defeat Gannon and feel I finished a mature, intricately-woven literary tome that I would enthusiastically read were it adapted into book form. But even Ocarina of Time is young adult reading at best.
And I say that with Ocarina being my favorite game ever. My brain just swelled with dopamine at the thought of it right then! The older Zeldas had an excuse as they were among the first in the series in a medium so new itself. Now with games passing the forty-year mark the industry has a strong storytelling foothold, and the number of great-read games could fill many bookshelves, but still not one of those books is a Zelda.
I think the closest Zelda's ever come to achieving pageturner status is Majora's Mask, and the reason is they clearly started development with an intersting narrative quagmire - having to relive the same three days saving the world - and not simply an inspired gameplay design a la Ocarina. I once heard that when developing the revolutionary Super Mario 64 Miyamoto's team started with perfecting Mario's control, then built a game around the fun maneuvers they'd developed. It seems to me Zeldas are generally developed the same way: wouldn't it be fun to alternate between worlds (Link to the Past), shrink to ant size (Minish Cap), or slow time (Phantom Hourglass), and the story is then "painted over" the established mechanic. There's nothing narratively compelling about the mechanic itself. Majora's Mask's three day cycle is a gameplay device sure, but it's also in and of itself an intriguing nugget of a story with questions that immediately spring to mind: What happens in those three days? Why does Link repeat them? With such a strong foundation informing the gameplay and the narrative equally, the game as a whole can only get better from there.
I have great hope for Skyward Sword because I think it begins with a similarly promising story and central gameplay mechanic, those being the origin tale of the Master Sword and the 1:1 swordplay controls. For a cohesive end product, story and gameplay must sprout from the same seed and be inseparably codependant. If the gameplay is so spectacular I feel like I'm affecting a virtual world, then I want the narrative depth allowing me to do unforgettable, fantastic things in it.
Why buy the game when I don't have a TV? Truthfully I would've waited if not for the limited edition bundle including this sexy Zelda Wiimote:
I might get destroyed for saying this, but Zeldas usually have weak stories. Lovable characters, colorful dialogue, but very rudimentary, cliche fantasy stories. And I'm hoping that's changed with Skyward Sword.
I moved across the country in a mini van a few weeks ago. Rather than occupy precious cargo space with my big boxy TV, I decided the lack of room was a perfect excuse to leave it behind and find myself in need of a huge flat screen (soon...soon...). Of course all my games and systems made the journey, so Skyward Sword (or "Skyward S Word" - Shiiiiiiiiiit!) sits safely in my sock drawer giving me dreams of a richly detailed, twisting and turning Tolkien-worthy fantasy narrative.
I've played every Zelda game save for a few: Oracle of Seasons/Ages, Spirit Tracks, and the crappy CD-i games, and although the gameplay is routinely masterful the stories are always far too simple. Perhaps they're best likened to fairy tales, being good stories efficiently told, only drawing outlines and leaving the player to color them in, and that's fine. After so many years and so many entries in this series just once I'd like to defeat Gannon and feel I finished a mature, intricately-woven literary tome that I would enthusiastically read were it adapted into book form. But even Ocarina of Time is young adult reading at best.
And I say that with Ocarina being my favorite game ever. My brain just swelled with dopamine at the thought of it right then! The older Zeldas had an excuse as they were among the first in the series in a medium so new itself. Now with games passing the forty-year mark the industry has a strong storytelling foothold, and the number of great-read games could fill many bookshelves, but still not one of those books is a Zelda.
I think the closest Zelda's ever come to achieving pageturner status is Majora's Mask, and the reason is they clearly started development with an intersting narrative quagmire - having to relive the same three days saving the world - and not simply an inspired gameplay design a la Ocarina. I once heard that when developing the revolutionary Super Mario 64 Miyamoto's team started with perfecting Mario's control, then built a game around the fun maneuvers they'd developed. It seems to me Zeldas are generally developed the same way: wouldn't it be fun to alternate between worlds (Link to the Past), shrink to ant size (Minish Cap), or slow time (Phantom Hourglass), and the story is then "painted over" the established mechanic. There's nothing narratively compelling about the mechanic itself. Majora's Mask's three day cycle is a gameplay device sure, but it's also in and of itself an intriguing nugget of a story with questions that immediately spring to mind: What happens in those three days? Why does Link repeat them? With such a strong foundation informing the gameplay and the narrative equally, the game as a whole can only get better from there.
I have great hope for Skyward Sword because I think it begins with a similarly promising story and central gameplay mechanic, those being the origin tale of the Master Sword and the 1:1 swordplay controls. For a cohesive end product, story and gameplay must sprout from the same seed and be inseparably codependant. If the gameplay is so spectacular I feel like I'm affecting a virtual world, then I want the narrative depth allowing me to do unforgettable, fantastic things in it.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Writing Routinely
This is a companion piece to my previous post in which I wrote about the importance of writing throughout the day whenever you can find a morsel of time. I should elaborate to say I find it helpful to devote routine, solid chunks of time to writing and only writing.
Just this second a friend texted me on this very phone on which I'm writing, and with lightning speed I denied a response. This is how seriously I guard my writing time these days; I refuse to sacrifice even ten seconds for anything else. The problem is not sacrificing those ten seconds. It's the sixty or one hundred and twenty seconds or on some days much, much longer my brain requires to shift back into writing gear. My writing time is nothing less than sacred. That speaks nothing of the potential turds I churn out during writing time, but I think it's important to respect your work enough to let everything else take a back seat for at least one solid, sustained period every day.
It should be the exact same time every day too - thats's hugely important. You'll find that by forcing yourself to write always at 2 PM no matter if you're not in the mood, eventually you'll feel the urge to write at 2 PM just as you get hungry around midday and tired at night. Conditioning your mind for creativity is absolutely essential in being a productive, prolific writer.
I think often of prolific writers and wonder about their creative methods. Just how do they write so damn much?! I used to believe R.L. Stein was just a pen name used by many writers because hell, there are over 150 Goosebumps books. Turns out he's one guy who made a habit of writing one to two novels per month. Per month! I haven't even written one in all my 29 years! Did the man not sleep, ignore his wife and kids, and wear earplugs 24/7? Did he never have a doctor's appointment, a friend asking to hang out, or a picnic to pack for? Is he still racking up overdue fees with unwatched Blockbuster VHSs from fifteen years ago? Just how did he manage the rest of his life?
To find that time will require that you budget the rest of your time wisely too. This is where writing really stops being a hobby and becomes a discipline. You cannot ignore the other equally important aspects of your life in favor of writing time. I'm still in the process of figuring this out myself, that you must have balance in your non-writing hours to sustain your creative ability and motivation. I have a terrible tendency to gung-ho my way about everything I'm presently doing to the total exclusion of everything else, and let me tell you that twenty-hour nonstop writing sessions do not make you a good writer. They make you an odorous, grumpy person, who's pissed off those whose calls he ignored and the cats whose litterbox he didn't clean, with a stack of dishes in the sink, unpaid bills stuffing the mailbox, a flickering light above that still needs to be fixed, and fifty pages of mediocre writing for the day who will not want to write again for a month.
You can't really think in terms of "writing time" and "other time" because they are so entwined that if you've got too much "other time" stuff on your mind, it's a clog in your creative pipes, and if you never write (or draw, sing, or whatever your creative outlet may be), then you'll be too depressed to do anything to your full ability. Just give every necessary activity its very own routine timeslot, and quickly you'll fall into a daily rhythm of productivity and naturally-occuring motivation to be creative.
Just this second a friend texted me on this very phone on which I'm writing, and with lightning speed I denied a response. This is how seriously I guard my writing time these days; I refuse to sacrifice even ten seconds for anything else. The problem is not sacrificing those ten seconds. It's the sixty or one hundred and twenty seconds or on some days much, much longer my brain requires to shift back into writing gear. My writing time is nothing less than sacred. That speaks nothing of the potential turds I churn out during writing time, but I think it's important to respect your work enough to let everything else take a back seat for at least one solid, sustained period every day.
It should be the exact same time every day too - thats's hugely important. You'll find that by forcing yourself to write always at 2 PM no matter if you're not in the mood, eventually you'll feel the urge to write at 2 PM just as you get hungry around midday and tired at night. Conditioning your mind for creativity is absolutely essential in being a productive, prolific writer.
I think often of prolific writers and wonder about their creative methods. Just how do they write so damn much?! I used to believe R.L. Stein was just a pen name used by many writers because hell, there are over 150 Goosebumps books. Turns out he's one guy who made a habit of writing one to two novels per month. Per month! I haven't even written one in all my 29 years! Did the man not sleep, ignore his wife and kids, and wear earplugs 24/7? Did he never have a doctor's appointment, a friend asking to hang out, or a picnic to pack for? Is he still racking up overdue fees with unwatched Blockbuster VHSs from fifteen years ago? Just how did he manage the rest of his life?
To find that time will require that you budget the rest of your time wisely too. This is where writing really stops being a hobby and becomes a discipline. You cannot ignore the other equally important aspects of your life in favor of writing time. I'm still in the process of figuring this out myself, that you must have balance in your non-writing hours to sustain your creative ability and motivation. I have a terrible tendency to gung-ho my way about everything I'm presently doing to the total exclusion of everything else, and let me tell you that twenty-hour nonstop writing sessions do not make you a good writer. They make you an odorous, grumpy person, who's pissed off those whose calls he ignored and the cats whose litterbox he didn't clean, with a stack of dishes in the sink, unpaid bills stuffing the mailbox, a flickering light above that still needs to be fixed, and fifty pages of mediocre writing for the day who will not want to write again for a month.
You can't really think in terms of "writing time" and "other time" because they are so entwined that if you've got too much "other time" stuff on your mind, it's a clog in your creative pipes, and if you never write (or draw, sing, or whatever your creative outlet may be), then you'll be too depressed to do anything to your full ability. Just give every necessary activity its very own routine timeslot, and quickly you'll fall into a daily rhythm of productivity and naturally-occuring motivation to be creative.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Finding Time
I hate cars. I hate paying for cars, maintaining cars, and operating cars. I also hate the notion that all men like cars. You could say I hate cars, and all the ideas that surround them. Chief among my reasons is that driving requires your full attention, and despite some idiots' valiant attempts to prove otherwise, you really can't do anything else while driving. It is time wasted.
Cars represent freedom, don't they? That's what popular culture has us believe. In the movies, in commercials and novels throughout the past century the message is consistant: if only we had a car, we'd be free! Sure it's true to a degree, but most drivers don't even own the car in their driveway - they lease or repay a loan - and they've secured their place as a statistic alongside the millions who spend 15% of their life just...driving.
Many people like myself live in a big city where public transit is an option, yet so many look upon it with disdain, failing to see its secret glory. Yes it takes longer than driving yourself in your own automowhatsit, but not only is it far cheaper - without having to pay attention to the road, you can also work while you ride.
A key factor in my resuming this blog is that I now have an hour-and-a-half commute to work. I take the bus during the day, and in the evening, a bus and a trolley, and all told that's 2 to 3 hours per day locked in a big metal box with only my brain and an iPhone to keep me occupied. It's perfect. I have trouble getting motivated to write; now it's write or sit there being bored.
As I write this there's a girl talking on her phone behind me and the train's rattling loudly down the tracks - a less than favorable writing environment, but I won't let that stop me as it once did. I think we all prefer to just sit in front of our computers for a 2-3 hour block and concentrate entirely on our writing, but most days that's impossible. I'd go long, long stretches without writing anything, and that was my excuse - I really just need time to focus, I can't write under less than perfect conditions. This is a great mindset for watching a movie, but not for writing one. Conditions are hardly ever perfect; wait for them to be and you'll hardly ever write.
If it's difficult to find time for writing consider this: with the smartphone you most likely have or with a little old-fashioned notebook, you can do everything you need to do while writing throughout your day. Waiting in line? Write. Eating lunch? Write. On the can? Write write write. We like to tell ourselves we're too busy, we're just not in the mood. Ask yourself if you're really okay with believing that, if you're really okay with ending your day not doing something to work toward your goal, with being in the exact same place you were yesterday, and suddenly those little pockets of time will call your attention.
Cars represent freedom, don't they? That's what popular culture has us believe. In the movies, in commercials and novels throughout the past century the message is consistant: if only we had a car, we'd be free! Sure it's true to a degree, but most drivers don't even own the car in their driveway - they lease or repay a loan - and they've secured their place as a statistic alongside the millions who spend 15% of their life just...driving.
Many people like myself live in a big city where public transit is an option, yet so many look upon it with disdain, failing to see its secret glory. Yes it takes longer than driving yourself in your own automowhatsit, but not only is it far cheaper - without having to pay attention to the road, you can also work while you ride.
A key factor in my resuming this blog is that I now have an hour-and-a-half commute to work. I take the bus during the day, and in the evening, a bus and a trolley, and all told that's 2 to 3 hours per day locked in a big metal box with only my brain and an iPhone to keep me occupied. It's perfect. I have trouble getting motivated to write; now it's write or sit there being bored.
As I write this there's a girl talking on her phone behind me and the train's rattling loudly down the tracks - a less than favorable writing environment, but I won't let that stop me as it once did. I think we all prefer to just sit in front of our computers for a 2-3 hour block and concentrate entirely on our writing, but most days that's impossible. I'd go long, long stretches without writing anything, and that was my excuse - I really just need time to focus, I can't write under less than perfect conditions. This is a great mindset for watching a movie, but not for writing one. Conditions are hardly ever perfect; wait for them to be and you'll hardly ever write.
If it's difficult to find time for writing consider this: with the smartphone you most likely have or with a little old-fashioned notebook, you can do everything you need to do while writing throughout your day. Waiting in line? Write. Eating lunch? Write. On the can? Write write write. We like to tell ourselves we're too busy, we're just not in the mood. Ask yourself if you're really okay with believing that, if you're really okay with ending your day not doing something to work toward your goal, with being in the exact same place you were yesterday, and suddenly those little pockets of time will call your attention.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Newly Defined Loosely
I'll spare the zero of you reading this any excuse for my year-and-a-half absence because I don't need to explain myself to non-existant people.
After ten years of pondering and procrastinating I've finally made the move to southern California. Looking back at the midwest, I don't know what took me so long. While Michigan's ass-deep in a frozen white bother called snow (I care not to see it again) I sit writing this post outside at night in December with my sleeves rolled up. Yes, I have the long sleeves, but I've opted to roll them up because this December, I'm in lovely warm San Diego. The beach is half a mile in any direction.
I'm also closer geographically speaking to my goal of writing for film and TV full-time. I'm fortunate enough to have a few undiscussable projects in the works and now I'm close enough to LA I can actually participate in their production. That makes me explode with happy.
For years I thought filmmaking should be a divided, compartmentalized process wherin directors direct, editors edit, cinematographers cinematograph, and writers write. I blame my school for that broken understanding of cinema production. We were instructed to declare a concentration within our major - do you want to produce? Do special effects? DEFINE YOURSELF NOW, unshaped eighteen year-old mind! - and thus I hold a Bachelor of Arts in Film and Video Production with a Concentration in Screenwriting (no it doesn't say that on my diploma, but I was constantly asked throughout my four years "what's your concentration"?). I turned down many good opportunities for on-set work and even a prized editing internship because, well, my time was better spent concentrating on screenwriting. That's who I was forced to tell myself I was!
I missed out. On a lot. And rather than wonder what would've happened if I'd done this or that, I'll change my present frame of mind to say there are no such things as directors, editors, cinematographers, or writers. If you want to make films, you need to know every aspect of the craft - the best in the biz do, and they're your competition. They're filmmakers, and that term encompasses every aspect of the process from writing and financing, up to the final cut and through distribution.
I've wasted a lot of time with the excuse I need to build my writing portfolio. These days I'm trying to be a filmmaker, and moving here takes me closer to that title. I have no money and no means to get my stuff back across the country should I fail to become one. Feels good to take a big bet on myself.
After ten years of pondering and procrastinating I've finally made the move to southern California. Looking back at the midwest, I don't know what took me so long. While Michigan's ass-deep in a frozen white bother called snow (I care not to see it again) I sit writing this post outside at night in December with my sleeves rolled up. Yes, I have the long sleeves, but I've opted to roll them up because this December, I'm in lovely warm San Diego. The beach is half a mile in any direction.
I'm also closer geographically speaking to my goal of writing for film and TV full-time. I'm fortunate enough to have a few undiscussable projects in the works and now I'm close enough to LA I can actually participate in their production. That makes me explode with happy.
For years I thought filmmaking should be a divided, compartmentalized process wherin directors direct, editors edit, cinematographers cinematograph, and writers write. I blame my school for that broken understanding of cinema production. We were instructed to declare a concentration within our major - do you want to produce? Do special effects? DEFINE YOURSELF NOW, unshaped eighteen year-old mind! - and thus I hold a Bachelor of Arts in Film and Video Production with a Concentration in Screenwriting (no it doesn't say that on my diploma, but I was constantly asked throughout my four years "what's your concentration"?). I turned down many good opportunities for on-set work and even a prized editing internship because, well, my time was better spent concentrating on screenwriting. That's who I was forced to tell myself I was!
I missed out. On a lot. And rather than wonder what would've happened if I'd done this or that, I'll change my present frame of mind to say there are no such things as directors, editors, cinematographers, or writers. If you want to make films, you need to know every aspect of the craft - the best in the biz do, and they're your competition. They're filmmakers, and that term encompasses every aspect of the process from writing and financing, up to the final cut and through distribution.
I've wasted a lot of time with the excuse I need to build my writing portfolio. These days I'm trying to be a filmmaker, and moving here takes me closer to that title. I have no money and no means to get my stuff back across the country should I fail to become one. Feels good to take a big bet on myself.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The Nintendo Story (or lack thereof)
Nintendo is the most consistent game developer on the planet. No other developer routinely makes high quality groundbreaking games like Iwata's gang. Do I even need to go through the list? I challenge you to name a company that's made as many successful franchises like Mario, Zelda, Metroid, and Pokemon. These are multi-million selling classic titles loved around the world. Nintendo aims to make games not just for hardcore players but for everyone, and they succeed for the most part.
I'm a total Nintendork and I'll buy anything they make, but their success frustrates me as a fan of deep, involved stories. The problem is that Nintendo rarely makes story-heavy games. The most story-driven series they make are Zelda, the Mario RPGs, and Metroid, but even these entertaining tales don't rise to the narrative standards set by competition like Heavy Rain and Red Dead Redemption.
I feel the need to defend my love of Nintendo before I argue this point any further. Since childhood I've owned every one of their systems. When a new console generation rolls around, I always buy the Nintendo console first. And in my game room I have a Power Glove above my television reaching up toward a homemade SMB 3 Evil Sun (A wedding gift from Gnora & Adam. Thanks guys!). But like every loving relationship, Nintendo and I have topics on which we just don't agree. No HD for the Wii; fine. Lack of a true, full-featured online experience; I can wait until Wii 2. Nintendo, you can have everything else your way if you just please give me this one thing: deep, mature storytelling.
That's a descriptor hardcore gamers require for their games: mature. What they want is games that speak to them as grown-ups on an adult level. Modern Warfare 2 earned over a billion dollars not just because the core gameplay is fun, but because it presents gamers with complicated moralistic choices and a story that assumes the player to be an intelligent, mature person. Grand Theft Auto 4 made $500 million its first day not because it lets you beat hookers (I can do that for free!) but because it allows you the choice of whether or not to beat hookers, whether or not to go to the bowling alley with a friend, whether to date this girl or that girl, and whether to let your enemies live or die. These are both mature stories, and their parent companies' wallets matured because of them.
Now here's where we've got to be careful with our terminology. Most hardcore gamers mistakenly think the term "mature" means "violent" or "sexual", and I'm certainly not saying Nintendo has to make violent games, or put Peach in a miniskirt, or anything to that degree. As anyone who played the green-blooded SNES version of Mortal Kombat knows, Nintendo doesn't like that kind of content (and I consider the "M" rating on Eternal Darkness's box a miracle). Look to the entire Pixar filmography for mature, nonviolent stories. What I'm saying is it's time for Nintendo to step it up in the story department, and there's no reason they can't give Mario as deep a narrative as Toy Story. Here's a very troubling quote from Mario creator Shigeru Miyamoto:
“I’d like to go with as little story as possible,” he said. “I’ve always felt that the Mario games themselves aren’t particularly suited to having a very heavy story.”
Source: Wired
This is coming from the designer at the peak of Nintendo's creative mountain. He doesn't believe Nintendo's flagship franchise should have a deep story. Mario RPGs all have great stories, sure, but this quote tells me the real Mario series we all love will never find true emotional momentum, and we'll just have to settle for making the little man onscreen run to the right. Allow me to get embarrassingly nerd-angry here: I've been playing in the Mushroom Kingdom for twenty years, yet I know so little about it. I've been jumping chasms, smashing bricks, and kicking koopas my entire life and I just want to know one thing, Miyamoto: Why? Sure, there's a princess to be saved. But is she even worth saving? I know nothing about her! Why does Bowser keep kidnapping her? What's Bowser's origin? Who's the mother of all those Koopalings? How did a lowly plumber become charged with saving the princess every freaking time she's taken? And why, ever since the world's most famous plumber's birth in 1981, have I NEVER SEEN MARIO DO ANY ACTUAL PLUMBING?!
These are the stories that beg to be told.
To be fair, I can understand why Miyamoto thinks Mario games aren't suited to mature storytelling. And to be blunt, I know why he's wrong. Mario games are nonsensical by nature in that they're really a series of playgrounds built by crazy Japanese men with boundless imaginations, and the developers design each level solely according to what's fun. Director of Super Mario Galaxy Yoshiaki Koizumi, explain:
"One of the best things about being able to develop a Mario game, is that the very concept of a Mario game is free and open. There are not that many fixed ideas. So we're able to go with whatever gives us the best options in development and whatever we can use to make the most fun game for the player. "
Source: IGN
Just look at the wide variety of level designs in that game, and you know these guys simply go wherever their minds might take them without adherence to any kind of logic. One level has Mario flying around a garden in a bee costume, and the next level finds him running upside down on a battleship sailing through outer space. Try to connect those levels in a narrative! So yes it might appear that Mario games aren't suited toward deep storytelling. Hey Mr. Miyamoto, quick question: Where'd you get the idea for Mario to eat mushrooms?
"We thought, 'What if he can grow and shrink? How would he do that? It would have to be a magic mushroom! Where would a mushroom grow? In a forest.' We thought of giving Mario a girlfriend, and then we started talking about Alice in Wonderland."
Source: Businessweek
Alice in Wonderland begat the Mushroom Kingdom. It also happens to be the most popular absurdist story of all time. Wonderland is a world where nothing makes sense just like the Mushroom Kingdom, yet the story Alice in Wonderland makes enough sense to be understood 100 years after its publication, translated into many languages, and loved around the entire world. Maybe the Mushroom Kingdom doesn't make sense, but a Mario game with a mature story certainly can.
It is my steadfast belief that every game in every genre can tell a story and become a greater game. As evidence, check out Pinball Quest, the world's first and only Pinball RPG:
I played the crap out of this game as a kid not to get the high score, but to save the kingdom. It's not the world's greatest RPG, but it's an otherwise forgettable pinball game made memorable by the inclusion of a story. This was gaming in its infancy, mind you, and I bet someone could make a pretty remarkable pinball RPG these days if they had the balls to try. The pinballs.
The RPG seems to be the only genre where Nintendo's willing to give storytelling a solid effort, yet still they fall short. Zelda is by far my favorite video game series and individually, the stories of each game range from good (Link to the Past) to great (Majora's Mask). When you look at the games collectively, however, the story of Hyrule can't even be classified as good or bad; it just doesn't make sense. Just look up "Zelda Timeline Theory" on YouTube and you'll find over 200 nerds scrambling in vain to piece it together. Now, I've been a Zelda fan for a long time and as I played each new game I tried in my mind to tie it to the previous game in the series. From the original game in 1986 through 2003's The Wind Waker I like every Zelda fan thought I was playing one continuous narrative where the series followed the events of Link's life in a distinct chronological order. And then, this happened:
"In our opinions, every Zelda game features a different Link. A new hero named Link always rises to fight evil."
Source: Gamecubicle
Zelda director Eiji Aonuma said that, and all over the world nerds dropped their controllers in disbelief. What?! You mean I was controlling a different Link every time?! Are you ser--wait, WHAT?! So are these multiple universes? Multiple Hyrules? Is there more than one Zelda too? And more than one Ganon? And these multiple Links, Zeldas, and Ganons all just keep crossing paths and battling to the death? Over and over?
Something wasn't smelling right in Hyrule. Zelda was THE story-driven series from Nintendo, and now after seventeen years suddenly it wasn't one cohesive story at all. We weren't even playing as the same characters from game to game! Link, we hardly knew ye! And then I realized what happened: all these years Nintendo was remaking essentially the same Zelda story with each game, only improving graphics and gameplay as the power of their hardware increased. With the advent of fully-rendered 3D graphics, games truly became cinematic experiences and gamers began to expect deeper, more mature stories from their games (stories which forward-thinking third parties like SquareSoft already made way back in the 16-bit and 8-bit days). So when throngs of obsessive dorks started asking logistical questions as though the Zelda series had one pervasive storyline from the beginning, Nintendo shat out a quick solution: "Multiple Links! Boom!" and slammed the door.
There's a new Zelda coming out for Wii next year, and it will be incredible but I've resigned myself to the fact that its story won't build on the foundation laid by Twilight Princess or any previous Zelda legend. "Legend", hm. Isn't it funny that a series called Legend of Zelda keeps starting from scratch? To not keep the momentum rolling from one game to the next and build a multi-game epic in the realm of Hyrule is a missed opportunity of Biggoron proportions.
There are so many great Nintendo series in need of thorough narrative exploration. Kirby is a hungry pink marshmallow. Star Fox is a spaceship-flying fox whose father was also a spaceship-flying fox. Donkey Kong is a monkey who owns his own country. These are our favorite Nintendo characters, and everything we know about them fits into a single sentence.
A few months ago, this trailer appeared from internet heaven and made me believe Nintendo's trying to do better:
Holy Zebes, it's a character-driven Metroid game. We're actually going learn something about the Nintendo character we're controlling.
Nintendo, the days when you could improvise a new story from game to game or forego a story altogether are in the past. Your gaming audience has matured, and it's time you do the same. Again Nintendo, you know I love you. But it's because I love you that I'm calling you out on this. Nintendo says they want to make games for everyone. Well, everyone loves a great story.
(Jon leaves, walks to the right, aimlessly, forever.)
I'm a total Nintendork and I'll buy anything they make, but their success frustrates me as a fan of deep, involved stories. The problem is that Nintendo rarely makes story-heavy games. The most story-driven series they make are Zelda, the Mario RPGs, and Metroid, but even these entertaining tales don't rise to the narrative standards set by competition like Heavy Rain and Red Dead Redemption.
I feel the need to defend my love of Nintendo before I argue this point any further. Since childhood I've owned every one of their systems. When a new console generation rolls around, I always buy the Nintendo console first. And in my game room I have a Power Glove above my television reaching up toward a homemade SMB 3 Evil Sun (A wedding gift from Gnora & Adam. Thanks guys!). But like every loving relationship, Nintendo and I have topics on which we just don't agree. No HD for the Wii; fine. Lack of a true, full-featured online experience; I can wait until Wii 2. Nintendo, you can have everything else your way if you just please give me this one thing: deep, mature storytelling.
That's a descriptor hardcore gamers require for their games: mature. What they want is games that speak to them as grown-ups on an adult level. Modern Warfare 2 earned over a billion dollars not just because the core gameplay is fun, but because it presents gamers with complicated moralistic choices and a story that assumes the player to be an intelligent, mature person. Grand Theft Auto 4 made $500 million its first day not because it lets you beat hookers (I can do that for free!) but because it allows you the choice of whether or not to beat hookers, whether or not to go to the bowling alley with a friend, whether to date this girl or that girl, and whether to let your enemies live or die. These are both mature stories, and their parent companies' wallets matured because of them.
Now here's where we've got to be careful with our terminology. Most hardcore gamers mistakenly think the term "mature" means "violent" or "sexual", and I'm certainly not saying Nintendo has to make violent games, or put Peach in a miniskirt, or anything to that degree. As anyone who played the green-blooded SNES version of Mortal Kombat knows, Nintendo doesn't like that kind of content (and I consider the "M" rating on Eternal Darkness's box a miracle). Look to the entire Pixar filmography for mature, nonviolent stories. What I'm saying is it's time for Nintendo to step it up in the story department, and there's no reason they can't give Mario as deep a narrative as Toy Story. Here's a very troubling quote from Mario creator Shigeru Miyamoto:
“I’d like to go with as little story as possible,” he said. “I’ve always felt that the Mario games themselves aren’t particularly suited to having a very heavy story.”
Source: Wired
This is coming from the designer at the peak of Nintendo's creative mountain. He doesn't believe Nintendo's flagship franchise should have a deep story. Mario RPGs all have great stories, sure, but this quote tells me the real Mario series we all love will never find true emotional momentum, and we'll just have to settle for making the little man onscreen run to the right. Allow me to get embarrassingly nerd-angry here: I've been playing in the Mushroom Kingdom for twenty years, yet I know so little about it. I've been jumping chasms, smashing bricks, and kicking koopas my entire life and I just want to know one thing, Miyamoto: Why? Sure, there's a princess to be saved. But is she even worth saving? I know nothing about her! Why does Bowser keep kidnapping her? What's Bowser's origin? Who's the mother of all those Koopalings? How did a lowly plumber become charged with saving the princess every freaking time she's taken? And why, ever since the world's most famous plumber's birth in 1981, have I NEVER SEEN MARIO DO ANY ACTUAL PLUMBING?!
These are the stories that beg to be told.
To be fair, I can understand why Miyamoto thinks Mario games aren't suited to mature storytelling. And to be blunt, I know why he's wrong. Mario games are nonsensical by nature in that they're really a series of playgrounds built by crazy Japanese men with boundless imaginations, and the developers design each level solely according to what's fun. Director of Super Mario Galaxy Yoshiaki Koizumi, explain:
"One of the best things about being able to develop a Mario game, is that the very concept of a Mario game is free and open. There are not that many fixed ideas. So we're able to go with whatever gives us the best options in development and whatever we can use to make the most fun game for the player. "
Source: IGN
Just look at the wide variety of level designs in that game, and you know these guys simply go wherever their minds might take them without adherence to any kind of logic. One level has Mario flying around a garden in a bee costume, and the next level finds him running upside down on a battleship sailing through outer space. Try to connect those levels in a narrative! So yes it might appear that Mario games aren't suited toward deep storytelling. Hey Mr. Miyamoto, quick question: Where'd you get the idea for Mario to eat mushrooms?
"We thought, 'What if he can grow and shrink? How would he do that? It would have to be a magic mushroom! Where would a mushroom grow? In a forest.' We thought of giving Mario a girlfriend, and then we started talking about Alice in Wonderland."
Source: Businessweek
Alice in Wonderland begat the Mushroom Kingdom. It also happens to be the most popular absurdist story of all time. Wonderland is a world where nothing makes sense just like the Mushroom Kingdom, yet the story Alice in Wonderland makes enough sense to be understood 100 years after its publication, translated into many languages, and loved around the entire world. Maybe the Mushroom Kingdom doesn't make sense, but a Mario game with a mature story certainly can.
It is my steadfast belief that every game in every genre can tell a story and become a greater game. As evidence, check out Pinball Quest, the world's first and only Pinball RPG:
I played the crap out of this game as a kid not to get the high score, but to save the kingdom. It's not the world's greatest RPG, but it's an otherwise forgettable pinball game made memorable by the inclusion of a story. This was gaming in its infancy, mind you, and I bet someone could make a pretty remarkable pinball RPG these days if they had the balls to try. The pinballs.
The RPG seems to be the only genre where Nintendo's willing to give storytelling a solid effort, yet still they fall short. Zelda is by far my favorite video game series and individually, the stories of each game range from good (Link to the Past) to great (Majora's Mask). When you look at the games collectively, however, the story of Hyrule can't even be classified as good or bad; it just doesn't make sense. Just look up "Zelda Timeline Theory" on YouTube and you'll find over 200 nerds scrambling in vain to piece it together. Now, I've been a Zelda fan for a long time and as I played each new game I tried in my mind to tie it to the previous game in the series. From the original game in 1986 through 2003's The Wind Waker I like every Zelda fan thought I was playing one continuous narrative where the series followed the events of Link's life in a distinct chronological order. And then, this happened:
"In our opinions, every Zelda game features a different Link. A new hero named Link always rises to fight evil."
Source: Gamecubicle
Zelda director Eiji Aonuma said that, and all over the world nerds dropped their controllers in disbelief. What?! You mean I was controlling a different Link every time?! Are you ser--wait, WHAT?! So are these multiple universes? Multiple Hyrules? Is there more than one Zelda too? And more than one Ganon? And these multiple Links, Zeldas, and Ganons all just keep crossing paths and battling to the death? Over and over?
Something wasn't smelling right in Hyrule. Zelda was THE story-driven series from Nintendo, and now after seventeen years suddenly it wasn't one cohesive story at all. We weren't even playing as the same characters from game to game! Link, we hardly knew ye! And then I realized what happened: all these years Nintendo was remaking essentially the same Zelda story with each game, only improving graphics and gameplay as the power of their hardware increased. With the advent of fully-rendered 3D graphics, games truly became cinematic experiences and gamers began to expect deeper, more mature stories from their games (stories which forward-thinking third parties like SquareSoft already made way back in the 16-bit and 8-bit days). So when throngs of obsessive dorks started asking logistical questions as though the Zelda series had one pervasive storyline from the beginning, Nintendo shat out a quick solution: "Multiple Links! Boom!" and slammed the door.
There's a new Zelda coming out for Wii next year, and it will be incredible but I've resigned myself to the fact that its story won't build on the foundation laid by Twilight Princess or any previous Zelda legend. "Legend", hm. Isn't it funny that a series called Legend of Zelda keeps starting from scratch? To not keep the momentum rolling from one game to the next and build a multi-game epic in the realm of Hyrule is a missed opportunity of Biggoron proportions.
There are so many great Nintendo series in need of thorough narrative exploration. Kirby is a hungry pink marshmallow. Star Fox is a spaceship-flying fox whose father was also a spaceship-flying fox. Donkey Kong is a monkey who owns his own country. These are our favorite Nintendo characters, and everything we know about them fits into a single sentence.
A few months ago, this trailer appeared from internet heaven and made me believe Nintendo's trying to do better:
Holy Zebes, it's a character-driven Metroid game. We're actually going learn something about the Nintendo character we're controlling.
Nintendo, the days when you could improvise a new story from game to game or forego a story altogether are in the past. Your gaming audience has matured, and it's time you do the same. Again Nintendo, you know I love you. But it's because I love you that I'm calling you out on this. Nintendo says they want to make games for everyone. Well, everyone loves a great story.
(Jon leaves, walks to the right, aimlessly, forever.)
Friday, June 25, 2010
st3Dories
In the last year, the movie industry found a way to get the "I'll wait 'til the DVD" crowd back to theaters with 3D. The first film I saw from this new 3D generation was Coraline with my wife on Valentine's Day, and we both agreed 3D made an already great movie more fun. Then we saw Avatar, and again were glad to pay the extra five bucks for the extra dimension. The 3D of today is less a gimmick than it was 50 years ago. But it's still a gimmick. How so? There has yet to be a 3D movie that's not possible to be made in 2D.
I appreciate 3D, and I even think every movie should be 3D whether it's a blockbuster sci-fi epic or a quaint indie dramedy. An extra dimension can only add to the experience, so why not let small-scope films use it too? With a greater number of filmmakers using the technology, the greater the chance becomes that someone will elevate it beyond gimmick status and make a film that simply cannot be made in two dimensions.
I believe this non-existant perfect 3D film begins not with mind-blowingly elaborate camerawork or visual effects so far beyond what the eye can perceive in 2D that they require three dimensions, but at the very root of the film with a story that cannot be told by any other method. This is a new type of film story that hasn't been invented yet. If I could explain it any further I'd have written it already myself, but for the sake of this article I'll at least give this new type of story a name: st3Dory. No idea how to pronounce that, but as you can see, "3D" is at the heart of the story. That's the only way to make an extra dimension matter.
No filmmaker has ever made a st3Dory, and I'm not sure they ever will succeed at making one. But for a better picture of what a st3Dory might look like, let's imagine movies without other essential elements. Picture "The Conversation" as a silent movie:
Or Once without music:
Or Enter the Dragon without martial arts:
Likewise, a st3Dory is a movie where 3D is simply inextricable from the story. And the day when someone writes a st3Dory is the day when 3D stops being merely a gimmick.
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