Later this summer, MTV will resurrect perhaps its most popular and controversial original series of all-time, Beavis and Butthead. While MTV hasn't released much information about the form in which the series will make its return (let's hope, for the love of God, Hollywood's current crush with "gritty reboots" doesn't find its way into this revival. I don't think I could stomach a Cornholio with a painkiller addiction and a Butthead driven to revenge-fueled madness after being laid off of his job following the housing bubble burst), it is highly likely several staple features of the show will return. Chief among these necessary elements, of course, should be the duo's hilariously-misinformed criticism of contemporary music videos.
But, have you taken a look at the stable of potential fodder for MTV's poster-boy idiots this year? Let's try and overlook the fact (like MTV's marketing department has done for years) that the medium has been rendered culturally irrelevant as a result of the format switch of the station in the early 2000s that is an easy target for hack stand-up comedians throughout this fine country. The music video, as an art form, has lacked any kind of significance since about 2002, placing the medium in the same category as fax machines, pay phones, and the Seattle Mariners. Prior to MTV's complete abandonment of the staple element of its brand since the early 1980s, however, there were several technical achievements in music video production that elevated the medium, at its height, to a level of certifiable artistic pursuit that in many cases exceeded the quality of the songwriting itself. This post celebrates those videos during the heyday of their cultural significance, beginning with perhaps the finest example of how a music video could transform a pop music hit into a cultural phenomenon.
Michael Jackson
"Thriller"
From Thriller, Epic Records, 1982
Director: John Landis
Michael Jackson's Thriller featured several memorable music videos with "Billie Jean," "Beat It," and "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'," but it was his decision to develop this long-form video with its own self-sustained narrative (and the most-mimicked dance sequence in the history of popular music) that stands the test of time as perhaps the first big push in what a music video could be. No longer did we need to have a rock band performing in an abandoned warehouse, or (perhaps more popular in the early 80s) crazy-looking artists simply crooning into a camera as their shellacked hairstyles bobbed up and down on cable-ready television sets.
A-Ha
"Take on Me"
From Hunting High and Low, Warner Bros., 1985
Director: Steve Barron
Embedding disabled for this video. Click link to watch on youtube.
There were actually two versions produced for this 1985 breakout hit, but it is Steve Barron's version that introduces animation in a uniquely stunning way for the period that was often poorly imitated (see: Paula Abdul's "Straight Up") but not duplicated until the early 2000s (as we'll see later). The story told in the video itself may have little (if anything) to do with the content of the song, and I'm still not certain where the evil biker gang fits in, but damn if the rotoscoped music clip hasn't penetrated deep into the fabric of our collective popular culture consciousness.
Peter Gabriel
"Sledgehammer"
From So, Geffen, 1986
Director: Steven R. Johnson
Peter Gabriel and Steven R. Johnson channeled their inner Tim Burton and produced this stop-motion masterpiece in the midst of some rather vapid hair band fare that populated much of the music video scene of the mid-1980s. I'm not sure if they intentionally filmed the stutter-step dance moves of Peter Gabriel or they put some of those mo-cap balls on me during my moves on the dance floor at prom. Either way, the video simultaneously oozes cool and inspires nausea.
Pearl Jam
"Jeremy"
From Ten, Epic Records, 1992
Director: Mark Pellington
Apparently, by 1992 we'd tired of zombies, Dr. Katz-style sketchy animation and mouths that morph into clay bullhorns to scare children with music videos, so Eddie Vedder and Mark Pellington turned the camera on the legion of angst-y teens created by the new grunge movement. What resulted remains, to this day, one of the most haunting psychological portraits in the medium that brilliantly captures the raw emotion of just one of many of the instant classics that found their way onto Ten. The controversy created by "Jeremy" kick-started the confrontational career of the grunge era's last great legacy on today's music scene.
The Beastie Boys
"Sabotage"
From Ill Communication, Grand Royal Records, 1994
Director: Spike Jonze
From the "Police Squad!" homage in the video's opening seconds to the grainy video effects driving home that 1970s vibe to the stone-faced selling of the parody by the Beasties, "Sabotage" has classic satiric video written all over it. Throughout the years, the group has produced some hilarious videos with varying degrees of success. This is their "Citizen Kane," folks.
Weezer
"Buddy Holly"
From Weezer (The Blue Album), Geffen, 1994
Director: Spike Jonze
Perhaps it's a little vanilla to list two Spike Jonze videos back-to-back, from the same year nonetheless, but you can't include a list of great music video concept ideas and leave out the Fonz. I mean, let's leave aside the technical accomplishment of the video, which was mind-blowing back in 1994 (this is before Lucas went back in and changed the Gredo/Han Solo thing, remember? Putting Rivers and the boys on the set of "Happy Days" convincingly simply for a music video made me feel, as a seven year-old snot-nosed kid, as though I were the Indians and Spike Jonze the Spaniard had just made fire jump from his hands right in front of me). Joanie loves Chachi, but I love this video (cue laugh track).
Jamiroquai
"Virtual Insanity"
From Traveling Without Moving, Sony Soho Square, 1996
Director: Jonathan Glazer
You have to give English acid jazz band Jamiroquai props for a few things in this video. The first would be totally pulling off that plush Abraham Lincoln imitation cranial wear. The second would be capturing the essence of their album title in a nice, neat four minute video package. Finally, actually making something called "acid jazz" relevant in a way that didn't involve illegal drugs, a soundproof garage, and a complete DVD set of the Battlestar Galactica series.
Korn
"Freak on a Leash"
From Follow the Leader, Immortal/Epic, 1999
Director: Todd McFarlane
So, clearly Korn went a different direction with the animation than A-Ha did some fifteen years prior. Props to them for having the stones to hire acclaimed comic book artist McFarlane, who apparently laid the groundwork for the film "Eight Crazy Nights" with the character models. I'll admit, I wasn't a huge Korn fan, but I was a big supporter of any one who had a chance to knock off certain boy bands from the number one spot on Total Request Live, which I watched every afternoon when I got home from school (I still love you Carson! Even though you're only on at 2:30 AM and I honestly couldn't care less about your 2,345,763rd interview with Fred Durst). That's a nice profile of your fan base, too, Korn. Do I need to bench 250 just to get a pre-order of your new CD?
Fatboy Slim
"Weapon of Choice"
From Halfway Between the Gutter and the Stars, Skint/Astralwerks, 2000
Director: Spike Jonze
I imagine the pitch for this video went a little something like this:
Fatboy: For this video, I just want a guy dancing in a lobby. He's wearing an old timer suit, with slacks that rest just in the sub-lingual area. Midway through his foxtrot, gravity gives way, and he starts dancing on the ceiling.
Label: Hmm. I like it, but in order for it to be fully enjoyable during an acid trip, we're going to need the perfect man to play your dancer.
Fatboy: Christopher Walken just got done shooting "Catch Me if You Can." He should be available.
Label: Here's a blank check. Make this damn video.
The rest is history.
Gorillaz
"Clint Eastwood"
From Gorillaz, Parlophone, 2000
Director: Jamie Hewlett
This video taught us that it could be possible for pop stars to develop a massive following in spite of being not strictly human. It is a theory that continues to be tested today with the success of Lady Gaga.
The White Stripes
"Fell in Love with a Girl"
From White Blood Cells, XL, 2002
Director: Michael Gondry
What more should we have expected from the brilliant mind that gave us "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and the slightly-less intelligent same mind that gave us "The Green Hornet"? The White Stripes always had a knack for producing fiendishly cool music videos, and the length of their first single that exploded off White Blood Cells in 2002 gave them the outlet necessary to unleash this dizzying feat of childhood engineering over the top of what is essentially a straightforward old-time rock and roll love song. When I tried to recreate it in my room, all I ended up with was something that looked like a house and four swallowed red bricks.
Johnny Cash (Nine Inch Nails cover)
"Hurt"
From America IV: The Man Comes Around, American Recordings/Universal Music Group, 2003
Director: Mark Romanek
Perhaps the best praise for Johnny Cash's final music video should come straight from the lips of the original songwriter, Trent Reznor, in an interview with Alternative Press in September 2004:
"I pop the video in, and wow... Tears welling, silence, goose-bumps... Wow. [I felt like] I just lost my girlfriend, because that song isn't mine anymore... It really made me think about how powerful music is as a medium and art form. I wrote some words and music in my bedroom as a way of staying sane, about a bleak and desperate place I was in, totally isolated and alone. [Somehow] that winds up reinterpreted by a music legend from a radically different era/genre and still retains sincerity and meaning — different, but every bit as pure."
Red Hot Chili Peppers
"Can't Stop"
From By the Way, Warner Bros., 2003
Director: Mark Romanek
Embedding disabled by request. Click link to watch video on youtube.
RHCP has been known for some rather interesting visual interpretations of their hits ("Scar Tissue," "Otherside," and the trippy Crazy Taxi-looking "Californication"), but this accompanying short for the third single off an extremely underrated album in their oeuvre is perhaps the most arresting. Where can I snag a fluorescent backpack, Anthony?
Yellowcard
"Ocean Avenue"
From Ocean Avenue, Capitol, 2004
Director: Marc Webb
Okay, so it's a tad too derivative of both "Run Lola Run" and "Groundhog Day," but if you can make the complicated premises of those two films work in less than four minutes over a standard pop song, you've got to be doing something right, correct? Doesn't the lead singer look like a guy you stuffed in a locker in seventh grade? Oh, no, that's right. That was me.
Beck
"Girl"
From Guero, Interscope, 2005
Director: Motion Theory
Beck may have hit his songwriting peak with "Odelay" in 1996, but his best music video came almost a decade later. Taking a page (see what I did there!) out of MAD magazine, the video features some interesting city planning choices. An otherwise forgettable love pop-py love song becomes a type of real Escher-ian nightmare.
Vampire Weekend
"Oxford Comma"
From Vampire Weekend, XL/DGC, 2008
Director: Richard Ayoade
I'm not a huge fan of the avant-garde, or the one-take camera trickery, but for some reason in this video the two fuse together to create an enjoyable interpretation of a single I preferred to "A-Punk," which ultimately rocketed this New York indie band to fame in the summer of 2008. It could be the clear Strokes influence on the guitar riff or the use of the Futura font (also employed by Kubrick, Wes Anderson, and the animated series "Doug"). Whatever the reason, "Oxford Comma" seems to have the artistic creativity, inspiration and style that endears it to the video shorts of yesteryear. And yes, the punctuation decision in that last sentence was very consciously-made.
Obviously, there are many other great videos that visually or conceptually elevated the form. Let me know what some of your favorites are below!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
New Is Always Better...?
So says Barney Stinson. And the American people in 2008. But like all versions of democratic consensus, this mantra doesn't come without qualifications. Last night, I attended "Throwback Tuesday" as my first adventure to Kauffman Stadium of 2011, and watched the Royals drop their American League-worst 42nd game to the Arizona Diamondbacks, 7-2. The experience was as jarring as you would expect a retrospective housed in a newly renovated (for $250 million taxpayer dollars) stadium to be. The t-shirts handed out at the turnstiles featured the 60s-inspired Mr. Royal steam-pressed across the back (or, if-like me-you see a too uncanny resemblance to a human egg in Mr. Royal, a strange and abstract link to the Reagan Youth abstinence movement of the early 80s); a 1980s cover band played in the bar in left field (was a little Talking Heads too much to ask for, really?); concession prices ($2 small soft drinks and hot dogs) hearkened back to the early 90s (though, of course, beer still required a donation of a large portion of one's liver-an ironic bit of autonomous self-destruction in-and-of-itself); and the $7 outfield seats were, I suppose, a throwback to the mid-2000s, because Hy-Vee seats were still $5 well into my high school days.
Maybe I'm nitpicking a clear promotional move intended to get fans out on a Tuesday night for an interleague match-up against a team that is younger than Justin Bieber (the ploy worked, sort of-attendance was less than 50% of capacity, but much higher than the usual 12,000 the team manages to scrape together on average for weeknight home games). But last night indicated, to me, a team without a sense of its own historical identity. Picking and choosing what elements of the past the team wanted to play up to attract fans indicates, to me, a puzzling disconnect with the surprisingly strong historical roots of this franchise. Instead of the organist playing the tunes of the summer of '85 and beyond, I got some sort of attempt at Kings of Leon played over classic videoboard games like the baseball race around the fountains and the "What's the Call?" game that I remember vividly from my youth (when Frosty Malts cost less than a semester at Brown)
.
Do you guys remember this? Yeah, neither do I. And I still didn't see any of it last night.
(Image by Allan Chow.)
All of the trappings of the new K, and of the new marketing strategy employed by the executives, seems to be geared toward one purpose-updating the baseball environment to take attention away from the product on the field. The Royals were one of the most successful franchises in baseball from their inception in 1969 to their World Series title in 1985. The city and the fans still remember this. Every year, when the Royals start well, an intoxicating level of excitement grips this town and its media. Yet, there always remains a sense of "when is this all going to go wrong"? It's kind of like hedging your bets on the latest Adam Sandler movie-you know it's going to ruin your evening, and somehow Steve Buscemi is going to be involved, but you're not quite sure when it's going to hit you. Last night's Steve Buscemi was Wily Mo Pena, whose name indicates he should be attempting to drop an anvil on the Road Runner instead of hitting a 400 foot blast that all but negates a stellar night at the plate from Alex Gordon.
There was nothing wrong with spending a gorgeous, mild Tuesday summer evening in Kansas City taking in a ball game. But new didn't mean better to me last night. Perhaps, for Kansas City fans, the message should be, "New is always mind-numbingly sensational." To use an anachronism (which seems especially poignant for this entry), the horses pulling the carriage won't make a lick of difference if that carriage is still a pumpkin. The fans deserve more than squash on the field. A lot of Royals (Gordon, Mike Moustakas, Eric Hosmer, Billy Butler) have bright futures ahead of them. Let's hope new starts to actually mean better, and the Royals can finally focus and merge their old, historical identities and that of this new team. I don't think I could stand a disco club in right-center next year.
Maybe I'm nitpicking a clear promotional move intended to get fans out on a Tuesday night for an interleague match-up against a team that is younger than Justin Bieber (the ploy worked, sort of-attendance was less than 50% of capacity, but much higher than the usual 12,000 the team manages to scrape together on average for weeknight home games). But last night indicated, to me, a team without a sense of its own historical identity. Picking and choosing what elements of the past the team wanted to play up to attract fans indicates, to me, a puzzling disconnect with the surprisingly strong historical roots of this franchise. Instead of the organist playing the tunes of the summer of '85 and beyond, I got some sort of attempt at Kings of Leon played over classic videoboard games like the baseball race around the fountains and the "What's the Call?" game that I remember vividly from my youth (when Frosty Malts cost less than a semester at Brown)
.
Do you guys remember this? Yeah, neither do I. And I still didn't see any of it last night.(Image by Allan Chow.)
There was nothing wrong with spending a gorgeous, mild Tuesday summer evening in Kansas City taking in a ball game. But new didn't mean better to me last night. Perhaps, for Kansas City fans, the message should be, "New is always mind-numbingly sensational." To use an anachronism (which seems especially poignant for this entry), the horses pulling the carriage won't make a lick of difference if that carriage is still a pumpkin. The fans deserve more than squash on the field. A lot of Royals (Gordon, Mike Moustakas, Eric Hosmer, Billy Butler) have bright futures ahead of them. Let's hope new starts to actually mean better, and the Royals can finally focus and merge their old, historical identities and that of this new team. I don't think I could stand a disco club in right-center next year.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Virtual Dork-Duke Nukem Forever Review
Read this review on Neoseeker.
All you really need to know about Duke Nukem Forever can be found out during the brief introductory video that precedes the main menu the first time you pop the game into your console. A grainy video featuring the eponymous hero firing stiffly at franchise-staple pig aliens while a generic three-chord power metal song plays in the background invites players into the action. A tint of red bathes all objects on screen, signalling the gory death that will abound during the roughly sixteen hours of gameplay in the single-player campaign. At the end of the CGI sequence, Duke (voiced once again by Jon St. John) brazenly declares, "I'm back, baby!" Is that a good thing?
Not if you read several prominent gaming publications. DNF (as I will refer to the game from now on...those of you lucky enough to compete in a timed sport will understand the irony of the acronym which stands for "DID NOT FINISH" in the results) currently can lay claim to a paltry 50 score (out of 100) on Metacritic. Yesterday, 2K Games (the publisher of DNF) fired the PR firm in charge of handling publicity for the game after its President tweeted a warning to all gaming journalists mocking the title in the press. It's not hard to understand this reaction after playing DNF for five minutes or so. The game takes clear potshots at industry leaders (Halo, Call of Duty, even Mario gets called out at one point), inviting through its arrogance the wrath of gamers and other developers in response to the game's faults.
Of which, even as a huge Duke fan (I'll admit I hobnobbed with the super-geeks early Tuesday morning to pick up the game at midnight), I have to admit there are several. Originally, Duke Nukem games allowed for a high level of interactivity in the main world, either for comic or gameplay-specific effect. This feature finds its way into DNF, though in comparison to games like the recent Fallout titles which boast the ability to manipulate all objects in the game world through the first-person perspective, Duke's interactivity seems mild by comparison. Also, in the first few minutes of the single-player campaign (after a rather interesting and-to a certain extent-refreshing take on the tutorial mode present in most of today's shooters) and in the room of rewards present as a result of accomplishments in online play, the ability to interact the world causes framerate hiccups and stuttering.
Enemy intelligence is another sticking point. Foes will repeatedly rush you aggressively, but rarely work together as a team. Circle strafing can take out most enemies, just as it did back in Nukem 3D back in 1997. The most advanced tactic enemies will use to defeat you (outside of some of the inspired, old-school throwback boss battles that occur frequently to break up the action) is to toss some pipe bombs every now and then. Pacing throughout the game can be hit-or-miss. In addition to the aforementioned boss battles (which are difficult, but not impossible-the way shooter boss fights should be, rather than the scripted sequences seen in games of today if you ask this reviewer), there are turret sequences which are rather straightforward scattered throughout as well as some actually enjoyable platforming and physics puzzle sequences.
Many reviewers (including IGN) panned DNF for its decision to include driving, turret, and puzzle/platforming sequences in between the competent shooting mechanics present in the game. I, instead, found these additions to be rather entertaining and certainly enjoyable when used as transitions between fast-paced shooting. We're obviously not talking Half-Life 2 quality mind-benders, but Gearbox does make a point to both introduce interesting challenges within their game world that transcend simply pointing a shotgun or yanking the tusks off a pig-cop close up. During one inspired sequence late in the game, players are treated to a sequence that integrates a lift, a physics puzzle with barrels, and gunplay into five or so minutes of perhaps the most promising DNF gameplay. The physics system in DNF, however, can at times be wonky, and platforming can be frustrating with some unresponsive controls on occasion. Expect to fail and even die a few times making the correct jump.
Which leads to my biggest complaint with DNF. The loading times on the Xbox 360 are unacceptable even by N64-generation standards. I spent more time waiting for the game to reload after dying in a boss battle than I was actually fighting. I got in the habit of leaving a book open so I could at least feel like I was doing something productive with the time I had to wait for the game to catch back up with me. In these days of autosaving and massive game worlds that can be streamed instantaneously with only minimal loading times measurable in seconds, it is absolutely inexcusable that, after learning a strategy to defeat a boss in the first few seconds, I have the time to watch an episode of The Wire, heat up a ham sandwich, and map the human genome before I get back into the action.
This problem could have been alleviated entirely if DNF had simply employed a feature present in many games today of an interactive loading screen. The pinball, air hockey, and crude whack-a-mole (Alien Abortion!) games playable during a strip-club dream sequence in the middle of the narrative would have made nice loading screen distractions. As it stands, we have some stock music that repeats itself every five seconds (we're talking dream-haunting levels of redundancy), a concept art image of the level we are playing, and a few bone-headed text suggestions at the bottom of the screen (these things have to be ironic inclusions by the developers. "When getting shot at, try to avoid bullets" is a "pro tip" that appears frequently during loading screens. Can Gearbox come over to my house and mash up my solid food for me, too?).
This criticism brings up perhaps the central conflict present between the audience and DNF, and fuel for the review conflict that cost that PR firm a client. How do we judge DNF? As a game developed in 2011 with the current shooter audience in mind, or as an homage to a generation of gamers who have evolved themselves, but simply looking for a nostalgic good time? To answer this question, I found myself drawn back to my experience with the Wii version of Goldeneye released late last year. That game was essentially a retelling of a classic title with the trappings of modern shooters. The gameplay was competent, the multiplayer was just as much fun as gamers remembered, and it employed certain features that were sure to bring in a new and younger audience to a game that was a classic of a previous generation.
In many ways, I think DNF tried to do the same thing. There's a competent shooter here, with some fun gunplay (the shotgun, for lack of less punningly-excruciating terms, is a blast to fire at enemies) and the same attitude you remember from back in the day. I believe the reviewers at IGN, who suggested the game would only be funny to a 12 year old, missed the point. Duke Nukem will always be about going over-the-top. In the humor department, that means taking the macho, Hollywood action hero (who may be disappearing, except in revivals like "The Expendables" and therefore no longer as funny to a mainstream, youthful audience) and extending him to his chauvinistic and arrogant limit.
Duke is still Duke (even though some of his quotes will be repeated to the point of nausea by the time you complete the game) and the attitude of the series is still very evident. Several instances in the game let you know the developers are self-aware, and that we shouldn't be taking this too seriously. In a shooter genre where we're forced-with games like Bioshock and Modern Warfare 2-to make ethical choices based on what and whom we're shooting, it's nice to know that we can step into the shoes of a guy who simply wants you to know, "I'm from Las Vegas, and I say KILL 'EM ALL!" That Duke is back, and love him or hate him, DNF at the very least reminds us that such a hero can still exist. With more polish and a focus on its own identity and that of its audience, a sequel to this mediocre title could show us that subsistence in the modern world isn't all the Duke should be looking for.
COME GET SOME!
Verdict: 3.0/5 stars
All you really need to know about Duke Nukem Forever can be found out during the brief introductory video that precedes the main menu the first time you pop the game into your console. A grainy video featuring the eponymous hero firing stiffly at franchise-staple pig aliens while a generic three-chord power metal song plays in the background invites players into the action. A tint of red bathes all objects on screen, signalling the gory death that will abound during the roughly sixteen hours of gameplay in the single-player campaign. At the end of the CGI sequence, Duke (voiced once again by Jon St. John) brazenly declares, "I'm back, baby!" Is that a good thing?
Not if you read several prominent gaming publications. DNF (as I will refer to the game from now on...those of you lucky enough to compete in a timed sport will understand the irony of the acronym which stands for "DID NOT FINISH" in the results) currently can lay claim to a paltry 50 score (out of 100) on Metacritic. Yesterday, 2K Games (the publisher of DNF) fired the PR firm in charge of handling publicity for the game after its President tweeted a warning to all gaming journalists mocking the title in the press. It's not hard to understand this reaction after playing DNF for five minutes or so. The game takes clear potshots at industry leaders (Halo, Call of Duty, even Mario gets called out at one point), inviting through its arrogance the wrath of gamers and other developers in response to the game's faults.
Of which, even as a huge Duke fan (I'll admit I hobnobbed with the super-geeks early Tuesday morning to pick up the game at midnight), I have to admit there are several. Originally, Duke Nukem games allowed for a high level of interactivity in the main world, either for comic or gameplay-specific effect. This feature finds its way into DNF, though in comparison to games like the recent Fallout titles which boast the ability to manipulate all objects in the game world through the first-person perspective, Duke's interactivity seems mild by comparison. Also, in the first few minutes of the single-player campaign (after a rather interesting and-to a certain extent-refreshing take on the tutorial mode present in most of today's shooters) and in the room of rewards present as a result of accomplishments in online play, the ability to interact the world causes framerate hiccups and stuttering.
Enemy intelligence is another sticking point. Foes will repeatedly rush you aggressively, but rarely work together as a team. Circle strafing can take out most enemies, just as it did back in Nukem 3D back in 1997. The most advanced tactic enemies will use to defeat you (outside of some of the inspired, old-school throwback boss battles that occur frequently to break up the action) is to toss some pipe bombs every now and then. Pacing throughout the game can be hit-or-miss. In addition to the aforementioned boss battles (which are difficult, but not impossible-the way shooter boss fights should be, rather than the scripted sequences seen in games of today if you ask this reviewer), there are turret sequences which are rather straightforward scattered throughout as well as some actually enjoyable platforming and physics puzzle sequences.
Many reviewers (including IGN) panned DNF for its decision to include driving, turret, and puzzle/platforming sequences in between the competent shooting mechanics present in the game. I, instead, found these additions to be rather entertaining and certainly enjoyable when used as transitions between fast-paced shooting. We're obviously not talking Half-Life 2 quality mind-benders, but Gearbox does make a point to both introduce interesting challenges within their game world that transcend simply pointing a shotgun or yanking the tusks off a pig-cop close up. During one inspired sequence late in the game, players are treated to a sequence that integrates a lift, a physics puzzle with barrels, and gunplay into five or so minutes of perhaps the most promising DNF gameplay. The physics system in DNF, however, can at times be wonky, and platforming can be frustrating with some unresponsive controls on occasion. Expect to fail and even die a few times making the correct jump.
Which leads to my biggest complaint with DNF. The loading times on the Xbox 360 are unacceptable even by N64-generation standards. I spent more time waiting for the game to reload after dying in a boss battle than I was actually fighting. I got in the habit of leaving a book open so I could at least feel like I was doing something productive with the time I had to wait for the game to catch back up with me. In these days of autosaving and massive game worlds that can be streamed instantaneously with only minimal loading times measurable in seconds, it is absolutely inexcusable that, after learning a strategy to defeat a boss in the first few seconds, I have the time to watch an episode of The Wire, heat up a ham sandwich, and map the human genome before I get back into the action.
This problem could have been alleviated entirely if DNF had simply employed a feature present in many games today of an interactive loading screen. The pinball, air hockey, and crude whack-a-mole (Alien Abortion!) games playable during a strip-club dream sequence in the middle of the narrative would have made nice loading screen distractions. As it stands, we have some stock music that repeats itself every five seconds (we're talking dream-haunting levels of redundancy), a concept art image of the level we are playing, and a few bone-headed text suggestions at the bottom of the screen (these things have to be ironic inclusions by the developers. "When getting shot at, try to avoid bullets" is a "pro tip" that appears frequently during loading screens. Can Gearbox come over to my house and mash up my solid food for me, too?).
This criticism brings up perhaps the central conflict present between the audience and DNF, and fuel for the review conflict that cost that PR firm a client. How do we judge DNF? As a game developed in 2011 with the current shooter audience in mind, or as an homage to a generation of gamers who have evolved themselves, but simply looking for a nostalgic good time? To answer this question, I found myself drawn back to my experience with the Wii version of Goldeneye released late last year. That game was essentially a retelling of a classic title with the trappings of modern shooters. The gameplay was competent, the multiplayer was just as much fun as gamers remembered, and it employed certain features that were sure to bring in a new and younger audience to a game that was a classic of a previous generation.
In many ways, I think DNF tried to do the same thing. There's a competent shooter here, with some fun gunplay (the shotgun, for lack of less punningly-excruciating terms, is a blast to fire at enemies) and the same attitude you remember from back in the day. I believe the reviewers at IGN, who suggested the game would only be funny to a 12 year old, missed the point. Duke Nukem will always be about going over-the-top. In the humor department, that means taking the macho, Hollywood action hero (who may be disappearing, except in revivals like "The Expendables" and therefore no longer as funny to a mainstream, youthful audience) and extending him to his chauvinistic and arrogant limit.
Duke is still Duke (even though some of his quotes will be repeated to the point of nausea by the time you complete the game) and the attitude of the series is still very evident. Several instances in the game let you know the developers are self-aware, and that we shouldn't be taking this too seriously. In a shooter genre where we're forced-with games like Bioshock and Modern Warfare 2-to make ethical choices based on what and whom we're shooting, it's nice to know that we can step into the shoes of a guy who simply wants you to know, "I'm from Las Vegas, and I say KILL 'EM ALL!" That Duke is back, and love him or hate him, DNF at the very least reminds us that such a hero can still exist. With more polish and a focus on its own identity and that of its audience, a sequel to this mediocre title could show us that subsistence in the modern world isn't all the Duke should be looking for.
COME GET SOME!
Verdict: 3.0/5 stars
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Move it along, no hostilities to see here...
Unbeknownst to many Americans, there's a conflict raging in the House that has absolutely nothing to do with revealing boxer shorts and Twitter this week. President Obama's team defended military action in Libya on Wednesday in response to a House resolution condemning the action last month and Dennis Kucinich's current legal quibble with the continued use of military resources ostensibly to remove Muammar Qadafi from power. The statement from the White House is significant because it establishes a threshold at which armed conflict reaches the "hostilities" level. The War Powers Act, passed in 1973, states:
"It is the purpose of this joint resolution to fulfill the intent of the framers of the Constitution of the United States and insure that the collective judgement of both the Congress and the President will apply to the introduction of United States Armed Forces into hostilities, or into situations where imminent involvement in hostilities is clearly indicate by the circumstances, and to the continued use of such forces in hostilities or in such situations."
In suggesting that the current military engagement in Libya by American forces doesn't constitute "hostilities" as defined in the resolution, the White House wrests control of the debate and exercises a further prerogative in determining foreign policy that runs contrary to both the language of the resolution and, subsequently, the Constitution.
Let's go back to third grade (because, in all honesty, Washington more often resembles the playground than the epicenter of United States' foreign and domestic policy). You're lunch money has been stolen over and over again by the same bully, and you've had enough. You plan to meet under the slides right after the bell rings. You've entered a schoolyard fight, and pursuant to the rules of the playground both sides know what they're in for. If caught, detention will have to be served. Now imagine the you simply throw rocks at the bully from across the playground, and, when the assistant principal inevitably steps in to break up the fight, only he goes to detention. Throwing rocks doesn't constitute actual engagement in a "fight," instead you were simply antagonizing the bully and are therefore no longer susceptible to the laws of the playground.
That may be a crude analogy (okay, it is a crude analogy. I don't think Qadafi's greatest crime was hanging his opponents by their jock straps from his flag pole). The fact remains, however, that Obama is attempting to both rewrite the laws and definitions of the United States unilaterally for further Commanders-in-Chief to exercise. As the Times correctly points out, the judicial branch will likely steer clear of this justiciable conflict based upon political technicalities, leaving the controversy to be settled through political means. Should the ability of the executive to wage war without the consent of the people be left to determination through political channels? Sure, the conflict in Libya (in conjunction with other uprisings throughout the Muslim world) currently carries with it the apparent will of the majority. The White House conceded that the military and diplomatic goals (to protect the innocent, to depose Qaddafi) of the United States are different. If Obama wins this constitutional showdown, however, the next time a conflict (NOT "hostilities"!) comes along, regardless of its morally-defined bounds, the future president will have Obama's precedent to legitimately exercise his authority. And the American public will be the ones waiting in line for that swirlie.
"It is the purpose of this joint resolution to fulfill the intent of the framers of the Constitution of the United States and insure that the collective judgement of both the Congress and the President will apply to the introduction of United States Armed Forces into hostilities, or into situations where imminent involvement in hostilities is clearly indicate by the circumstances, and to the continued use of such forces in hostilities or in such situations."
In suggesting that the current military engagement in Libya by American forces doesn't constitute "hostilities" as defined in the resolution, the White House wrests control of the debate and exercises a further prerogative in determining foreign policy that runs contrary to both the language of the resolution and, subsequently, the Constitution.
Let's go back to third grade (because, in all honesty, Washington more often resembles the playground than the epicenter of United States' foreign and domestic policy). You're lunch money has been stolen over and over again by the same bully, and you've had enough. You plan to meet under the slides right after the bell rings. You've entered a schoolyard fight, and pursuant to the rules of the playground both sides know what they're in for. If caught, detention will have to be served. Now imagine the you simply throw rocks at the bully from across the playground, and, when the assistant principal inevitably steps in to break up the fight, only he goes to detention. Throwing rocks doesn't constitute actual engagement in a "fight," instead you were simply antagonizing the bully and are therefore no longer susceptible to the laws of the playground.
That may be a crude analogy (okay, it is a crude analogy. I don't think Qadafi's greatest crime was hanging his opponents by their jock straps from his flag pole). The fact remains, however, that Obama is attempting to both rewrite the laws and definitions of the United States unilaterally for further Commanders-in-Chief to exercise. As the Times correctly points out, the judicial branch will likely steer clear of this justiciable conflict based upon political technicalities, leaving the controversy to be settled through political means. Should the ability of the executive to wage war without the consent of the people be left to determination through political channels? Sure, the conflict in Libya (in conjunction with other uprisings throughout the Muslim world) currently carries with it the apparent will of the majority. The White House conceded that the military and diplomatic goals (to protect the innocent, to depose Qaddafi) of the United States are different. If Obama wins this constitutional showdown, however, the next time a conflict (NOT "hostilities"!) comes along, regardless of its morally-defined bounds, the future president will have Obama's precedent to legitimately exercise his authority. And the American public will be the ones waiting in line for that swirlie.
What does catching a football behind one's head have to do with morality?
On Wednesday, a national group advocating against gay marriage released a video featuring former New York Giant wide receiver David Tyree (you may remember him) arguing against the current legislation before the New York State Assembly that would legalize matrimonial unions between gay couples. In the video, Tyree reportedly opposes gay marriage on both spiritual and secular grounds, arguing that such a practice is an affront to God and that gay couples cannot "teach something that [they] don't have," insinuating that children of gay married couples will suffer a life in which their gender identity is forever confused.
Let's leave the rhetoric for a second here, because quite honestly, these are statements we've heard a thousand times before (apparently, if you give the gay community a cookie, the depraved scoundrels in our country will want a glass of milk). The more important issue raised by Tyree's recorded statement has to do with the way both sides of the debate have allowed the controversy to play out before the American people. These are two sides talking at--rather than with--each other, to the detriment of the gay community's purpose. Gay marriage has become, in this country, nothing more than a P.R. battle between two sides who believe themselves to be morally justified. The gay community carries the burden of illustrating why marriage between their members should be morally justified, based on the history of the argument in the United States and its conservative form of Christianity that has dominated the vote well through the 20th Century (and, some would argue, the 21st, with George W. Bush's large evangelical voting bloc). Instead, movements like the NOH8 campaign, among others, have turned the issue into a "whose celebrities are better" competition with their opponents, rather than substantive debate. This allows the opposition to, in turn, respond in a superficial manner, so that the story here becomes what rhetoric a Super Bowl hero is using in a video, rather than the implications of the legislation before the New York State Assembly.
Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks and Malcolm X weren't national celebrities before they spoke out against racial injustice. If the gay community wants to work toward public awareness and support for what I believe to be a moral cause, they need to attack their opposition in a moral and substantive way, rather than get Whoopi Goldberg to shake a finger at the camera. The time is ripe for such a movement, too, as the media blazes with tales of members of the straight community co-opting the persona of the gay community superficially for personal gain. Strong central leadership should take action to illustrate that the moral positions of the gay community cannot so easily be counterfeited, and that the current legislation would extend moral rights to homosexuals that have been unjustly denied them for so long. Another Ellen Degeneres PSA alone isn't going to do that.
Let's leave the rhetoric for a second here, because quite honestly, these are statements we've heard a thousand times before (apparently, if you give the gay community a cookie, the depraved scoundrels in our country will want a glass of milk). The more important issue raised by Tyree's recorded statement has to do with the way both sides of the debate have allowed the controversy to play out before the American people. These are two sides talking at--rather than with--each other, to the detriment of the gay community's purpose. Gay marriage has become, in this country, nothing more than a P.R. battle between two sides who believe themselves to be morally justified. The gay community carries the burden of illustrating why marriage between their members should be morally justified, based on the history of the argument in the United States and its conservative form of Christianity that has dominated the vote well through the 20th Century (and, some would argue, the 21st, with George W. Bush's large evangelical voting bloc). Instead, movements like the NOH8 campaign, among others, have turned the issue into a "whose celebrities are better" competition with their opponents, rather than substantive debate. This allows the opposition to, in turn, respond in a superficial manner, so that the story here becomes what rhetoric a Super Bowl hero is using in a video, rather than the implications of the legislation before the New York State Assembly.
Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks and Malcolm X weren't national celebrities before they spoke out against racial injustice. If the gay community wants to work toward public awareness and support for what I believe to be a moral cause, they need to attack their opposition in a moral and substantive way, rather than get Whoopi Goldberg to shake a finger at the camera. The time is ripe for such a movement, too, as the media blazes with tales of members of the straight community co-opting the persona of the gay community superficially for personal gain. Strong central leadership should take action to illustrate that the moral positions of the gay community cannot so easily be counterfeited, and that the current legislation would extend moral rights to homosexuals that have been unjustly denied them for so long. Another Ellen Degeneres PSA alone isn't going to do that.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
A Goober Does Sociology
This morning, I happened across a thought-provoking piece in the New York Times written by Sheryl Gray Stolberg that attempts to explain why political sex scandals occur almost exclusively to male office-holders. The simplest answers--that men outnumber women in Congress by a margin of greater than 4:1 and that positions of political, economic and social power long-held by men may increase a need for a "quick-fix" self-esteem boost enabled by meaningless intimacy--are addressed in Stolberg's piece but ultimately cast aside in favor of a type of moralistic argument that illustrates, in conjunction with several recent high-profile scandals running wild in the media, the necessity of a public myth that our pop culture heroes still possess the possibility of being motivated completely by altruistic means.
Stolberg quotes Debbie Walsh, director of the Center for American Women and Politics at Rutgers University, who states, "The shorthand of it is that women run for office to do something, and men run for office to be somebody." To selectively quote Walsh here may do a disservice to the research conducted by the Center. Certainly, in reality, there are men and women present in the current Congress who have to defy this simple dichotomous explanation of the motivations of the sexes in politics. Yet, Walsh's statement illustrates vividly the optimistic American belief that our politicians can be altruistic servants of the common good, as originally envisioned by the Founding Fathers. In those days, the Presidency wasn't a position one aspired toward, it was a grave responsibility that was assumed as a kind of selfless public service. Washington didn't step down in 1796 to go on an extended tour of lucrative speaking engagements, and in some ways the statement made by Walsh and the outcry against Jonathan Edwards' current campaign finance scandal (leaving the despicable nature of his personal infidelity out of the equation) indicate a revulsion to the current career-minded politician and a nostalgic desire to return to the days when servitude and integrity were placed before advancement.
A few weeks ago, I posted a review of David Foster Wallace's long essay "Up, Simba" to this blog in which the author grappled with this very issue much more adeptly than I could hope to. Arguably, the sex scandals of the past few weeks have only intensified Wallace's observations about the salesman mystique of the modern American politician, and Walsh's piece published this morning throws a gender-specific slant on the kind of nostalgic hope present in the American public that politics can still be self-less and not ironically self-aware.
It occurred to me, as I was reading Walsh's article, that politics are not the only arena in which we (both the public and those in positions of fame) cling to perhaps outmoded archetypes. The current scandal at Ohio State, already covered on this blog and to the point of nausea in the sports media, contains all the elements of similar scandals occurring in the political arena. Jim Tressel cultivated a public personality of selflessness and virtue, while accepting a salary bloated to levels of Solomon-like excess and turning a blind eye to the ethical violations of his athletes. The current year-long backlash against LeBron James (of which, I admit, I am a passionate participant) is fueled by some kind of ancient code of honor that honestly should never have lasted past the free agency era in any sport. Collectively, as a society, we are aware of these virtuous archetypes and use them as helpful narratives to keep us from becoming, as this past week's episode of South Park so poignantly reminded us, "cynical assholes."
We need these symbols of unquestioned virtue in all aspects of our culture, whether true or false, to keep us from believing that our society is in an apparent moral and spiritual decline. And, certainly, there are instances in which the narratives prove true. At the same time, we should not allow a comforting story to obscure the truth about ourselves and what the world around us has become because we are afraid to admit the consequences brought about by social media, frenzied election cycles, or the unrelenting pursuit of wealth in a global capitalist economy.
Stolberg quotes Debbie Walsh, director of the Center for American Women and Politics at Rutgers University, who states, "The shorthand of it is that women run for office to do something, and men run for office to be somebody." To selectively quote Walsh here may do a disservice to the research conducted by the Center. Certainly, in reality, there are men and women present in the current Congress who have to defy this simple dichotomous explanation of the motivations of the sexes in politics. Yet, Walsh's statement illustrates vividly the optimistic American belief that our politicians can be altruistic servants of the common good, as originally envisioned by the Founding Fathers. In those days, the Presidency wasn't a position one aspired toward, it was a grave responsibility that was assumed as a kind of selfless public service. Washington didn't step down in 1796 to go on an extended tour of lucrative speaking engagements, and in some ways the statement made by Walsh and the outcry against Jonathan Edwards' current campaign finance scandal (leaving the despicable nature of his personal infidelity out of the equation) indicate a revulsion to the current career-minded politician and a nostalgic desire to return to the days when servitude and integrity were placed before advancement.
A few weeks ago, I posted a review of David Foster Wallace's long essay "Up, Simba" to this blog in which the author grappled with this very issue much more adeptly than I could hope to. Arguably, the sex scandals of the past few weeks have only intensified Wallace's observations about the salesman mystique of the modern American politician, and Walsh's piece published this morning throws a gender-specific slant on the kind of nostalgic hope present in the American public that politics can still be self-less and not ironically self-aware.
It occurred to me, as I was reading Walsh's article, that politics are not the only arena in which we (both the public and those in positions of fame) cling to perhaps outmoded archetypes. The current scandal at Ohio State, already covered on this blog and to the point of nausea in the sports media, contains all the elements of similar scandals occurring in the political arena. Jim Tressel cultivated a public personality of selflessness and virtue, while accepting a salary bloated to levels of Solomon-like excess and turning a blind eye to the ethical violations of his athletes. The current year-long backlash against LeBron James (of which, I admit, I am a passionate participant) is fueled by some kind of ancient code of honor that honestly should never have lasted past the free agency era in any sport. Collectively, as a society, we are aware of these virtuous archetypes and use them as helpful narratives to keep us from becoming, as this past week's episode of South Park so poignantly reminded us, "cynical assholes."
We need these symbols of unquestioned virtue in all aspects of our culture, whether true or false, to keep us from believing that our society is in an apparent moral and spiritual decline. And, certainly, there are instances in which the narratives prove true. At the same time, we should not allow a comforting story to obscure the truth about ourselves and what the world around us has become because we are afraid to admit the consequences brought about by social media, frenzied election cycles, or the unrelenting pursuit of wealth in a global capitalist economy.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Change in the Sofa: An Ode to the Sitcom
In the brilliant Scrubs episode "My Life in Four Cameras," J.D.'s sappy final monologue includes this touching tribute to the sitcom: "Unfortunately around here, things don't always end as neat and tidy as they do on sitcoms. Relationships aren't always magically fixed in thirty minutes, you have to work on them. Problems don't always have easy solutions. And around here, nice people don't always get better. At times like that, it's comforting to know that there's always one thing that can pick your spirits up." As a television junkie, I couldn't agree more with the sentiment.
Recently finishing a whirlwind viewing of the first six seasons of the currently-popular "How I Met Your Mother," I've been thinking a lot about what sitcoms have picked my spirits up over the last several years. Here's a list of my favorites.
(A note: There are myriad definitions for what constitute a sitcom. For the purposes of this post, I'm not limiting my selections to the traditional sound-stage set, live audience, laugh track sitcom, though I know for purists out there this constitutes sacrilege. All complaints can be sent in writing to my non-existent secretary.)
10. How I Met Your Mother (2005-present)
Favorite Episode: "Slapsgiving"
Using an ingenious constant flashback device, How I Met Your Mother features both humorous nods to long-time viewers (the Slap Bet, the Goat, "Haaaaaaave ya met Ted?") interested in the overall plot of the show and great one-off episodes that explore the very nature of story-telling and embellishing. A smart comedy in an era where they appear few and far between.
9. The Office (2005-present)
Favorite Episode: "The Return"
Another series that has recently come under fire for declining quality (illustrating the woefully short lifespan for great sitcoms), the American "Office" program hit its stride with the introduction of Andy Bernard (Ed Helms) and other secondary characters in its third season, as the central relationship between Jim and Pam began to attain more significance and drama. Featuring some of this generation's finest comedic character actors, "The Office" proves that a great sitcom is sometimes merely the sum of its parts.
8. Friends (1994-2004)
Favorite Episode: "The One With All the Thanksgivings"
Sure, it was rather Anglo-centric, and in retrospect is probably viewed with a greater amount of nostalgia by today's audiences than for its actual quality, but "Friends" was huge for several key components that are necessary in any successful and classic sitcom: on-screen chemistry, excellent writing, and compelling characters that both make you laugh and invite you to share in the ups and downs of their daily lives.
7. The Wonder Years (1988-93)
Favorite Episode: "Good-bye"
Twenty years before "Superbad," Carol Black and Neal Marlens brought us the closest approximation of being a teenager allowable on network television through the popular sitcom convention of the flashback, currently used by the aforementioned "How I Met Your Mother." This selection, of course, stresses the definition of what a sitcom can be, with The Wonder Years tackling serious issues like Vietnam, death (in the very first episode, no less!), and the painful process of growing up on an almost weekly basis. But tucked away are brilliant comedic moments narrated to perfection by the incomparable Daniel Stern. And, like most sitcoms, the show killed the career of every actor involved (Paul's rumored turn as Marilyn Manson notwithstanding).
6. The Cosby Show (1984-92)
Favorite Episode: "Pilot"
Even ignoring the social significance of The Cosby Show, bringing the middle-class African-American family to the forefront of American mainstream culture in a way shows like "The Jeffersons" and "Sanford and Son" could never do (and paving the way for the tremendous "Family Matters" which only barely missed out on this list), The Cosby Show rallied around its tremendously popular eponymous star and created one of the finest examples of American family comedy to date. Continuously emulated but never equaled, "Cosby" continues its position of privilege in the annals of American television history to this day, and still holds up well over twenty years later in syndication on several major networks.
5. Scrubs (2001-10 [supposedly, though we all know it ended in 2009])
Favorite Episode: "My Screw Up"
"Spin City" was an excellent first creative project for Bill Lawrence, but he hit something special with "Scrubs" that defied genre expectations and gave the hospital setting a swift, irreverent kick in the pants. Solid principal characters, surrounded by a constantly-growing and developed ensemble cast, allowed Scrubs to hit a high mark in its third season in terms of both dramatic story-telling and comedy.
4. M*A*S*H* (1972-83)
Favorite Episode: "Abyssinia, Henry"
Arguably, M*A*S*H became a better show once it cast off the traditional sitcom elements that characterized the show during its first several seasons: canned laughter in the operating room, the departure of Larry Lanville's Frank Burns as the stiff CO, and the incorporation of more actual Korean War surgeon stories into the plotline of the show, granting the series additional weight. However, the constant levity brought by the larger-than-life Hawkeye and the strong ensemble cast keep M*A*S*H in the discussion for not only greatest sitcom, but greatest television program ever to this day.
3. Cheers (1982-93)
Favorite Episode: "The Last Angry Mailman"
Like M*A*S*H, Cheers' mainstream popularity afforded the program an unusually long run for a sitcom and a number of spin-off projects (including the wildly hilarious in its own right "Frasier"). Cheers remains a mainstay in syndication to this day thanks to the social issues it confronted boldly in the 1980s, and the popularity of its strong ensemble cast rounded out by Norm Peterson and Cliff Clavin-guys you'd want to have a drink with in real life. Its close-knit charm in a big city provides the escapism needed in any endearing sitcom.
2. Arrested Development (2003-6)
Favorite Episode: "The Immaculate Election"
It is inexplicable that FOX has given so many horrible shows a chance over the years, but barely showed any support to the finest program to yet air on their network (yeah, you heard that right "Simpsons"). Arrested Development, like many other shows on this list, takes the conventions of sitcoms and irreverently turns them around, poking fun at the genre, audience, and show itself all to the delight of the audience. Special props for getting sitcom legend Ron Howard to provide the skeptical narration that ties the show together, and for perhaps one of the funniest group of secondary characters to appear on the same screen. It's great to see Archer on FX carry on the dysfunctional family tradition from "Arrested Development," and to see all of the actors move on (more or less) to continued work on some inspired comedic projects. But now, let's get them all back together for that promised movie, damnit!
1. Seinfeld (1989-98)
Favorite Episode: "The Caddy"
Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld's genius decision to craft a sitcom that ignored the touchy-feely for the everyday hilarious created a mainstream comedy hit that NBC continues to search for today. The series is so rife with quotable lines, pop cultural creations, and memorable secondary characters that it would require a volume to chart its social significance. Though the series killed the careers of several of its stars (with the notable exception of David, whose "Curb Your Enthusiasm" was too off-the-wall to include in this list), its legacy remains untouchable to this day, and its prominent position in syndication during primetime on several networks attests to its staying power.
Did I forget your favorite? Let me know!
Recently finishing a whirlwind viewing of the first six seasons of the currently-popular "How I Met Your Mother," I've been thinking a lot about what sitcoms have picked my spirits up over the last several years. Here's a list of my favorites.
(A note: There are myriad definitions for what constitute a sitcom. For the purposes of this post, I'm not limiting my selections to the traditional sound-stage set, live audience, laugh track sitcom, though I know for purists out there this constitutes sacrilege. All complaints can be sent in writing to my non-existent secretary.)
10. How I Met Your Mother (2005-present)
Favorite Episode: "Slapsgiving"
Using an ingenious constant flashback device, How I Met Your Mother features both humorous nods to long-time viewers (the Slap Bet, the Goat, "Haaaaaaave ya met Ted?") interested in the overall plot of the show and great one-off episodes that explore the very nature of story-telling and embellishing. A smart comedy in an era where they appear few and far between.
9. The Office (2005-present)
Favorite Episode: "The Return"
Another series that has recently come under fire for declining quality (illustrating the woefully short lifespan for great sitcoms), the American "Office" program hit its stride with the introduction of Andy Bernard (Ed Helms) and other secondary characters in its third season, as the central relationship between Jim and Pam began to attain more significance and drama. Featuring some of this generation's finest comedic character actors, "The Office" proves that a great sitcom is sometimes merely the sum of its parts.
8. Friends (1994-2004)
Favorite Episode: "The One With All the Thanksgivings"
Sure, it was rather Anglo-centric, and in retrospect is probably viewed with a greater amount of nostalgia by today's audiences than for its actual quality, but "Friends" was huge for several key components that are necessary in any successful and classic sitcom: on-screen chemistry, excellent writing, and compelling characters that both make you laugh and invite you to share in the ups and downs of their daily lives.
7. The Wonder Years (1988-93)
Favorite Episode: "Good-bye"
Twenty years before "Superbad," Carol Black and Neal Marlens brought us the closest approximation of being a teenager allowable on network television through the popular sitcom convention of the flashback, currently used by the aforementioned "How I Met Your Mother." This selection, of course, stresses the definition of what a sitcom can be, with The Wonder Years tackling serious issues like Vietnam, death (in the very first episode, no less!), and the painful process of growing up on an almost weekly basis. But tucked away are brilliant comedic moments narrated to perfection by the incomparable Daniel Stern. And, like most sitcoms, the show killed the career of every actor involved (Paul's rumored turn as Marilyn Manson notwithstanding).
6. The Cosby Show (1984-92)
Favorite Episode: "Pilot"
Even ignoring the social significance of The Cosby Show, bringing the middle-class African-American family to the forefront of American mainstream culture in a way shows like "The Jeffersons" and "Sanford and Son" could never do (and paving the way for the tremendous "Family Matters" which only barely missed out on this list), The Cosby Show rallied around its tremendously popular eponymous star and created one of the finest examples of American family comedy to date. Continuously emulated but never equaled, "Cosby" continues its position of privilege in the annals of American television history to this day, and still holds up well over twenty years later in syndication on several major networks.
5. Scrubs (2001-10 [supposedly, though we all know it ended in 2009])
Favorite Episode: "My Screw Up"
"Spin City" was an excellent first creative project for Bill Lawrence, but he hit something special with "Scrubs" that defied genre expectations and gave the hospital setting a swift, irreverent kick in the pants. Solid principal characters, surrounded by a constantly-growing and developed ensemble cast, allowed Scrubs to hit a high mark in its third season in terms of both dramatic story-telling and comedy.
4. M*A*S*H* (1972-83)
Favorite Episode: "Abyssinia, Henry"
Arguably, M*A*S*H became a better show once it cast off the traditional sitcom elements that characterized the show during its first several seasons: canned laughter in the operating room, the departure of Larry Lanville's Frank Burns as the stiff CO, and the incorporation of more actual Korean War surgeon stories into the plotline of the show, granting the series additional weight. However, the constant levity brought by the larger-than-life Hawkeye and the strong ensemble cast keep M*A*S*H in the discussion for not only greatest sitcom, but greatest television program ever to this day.
3. Cheers (1982-93)
Favorite Episode: "The Last Angry Mailman"
Like M*A*S*H, Cheers' mainstream popularity afforded the program an unusually long run for a sitcom and a number of spin-off projects (including the wildly hilarious in its own right "Frasier"). Cheers remains a mainstay in syndication to this day thanks to the social issues it confronted boldly in the 1980s, and the popularity of its strong ensemble cast rounded out by Norm Peterson and Cliff Clavin-guys you'd want to have a drink with in real life. Its close-knit charm in a big city provides the escapism needed in any endearing sitcom.
2. Arrested Development (2003-6)
Favorite Episode: "The Immaculate Election"
It is inexplicable that FOX has given so many horrible shows a chance over the years, but barely showed any support to the finest program to yet air on their network (yeah, you heard that right "Simpsons"). Arrested Development, like many other shows on this list, takes the conventions of sitcoms and irreverently turns them around, poking fun at the genre, audience, and show itself all to the delight of the audience. Special props for getting sitcom legend Ron Howard to provide the skeptical narration that ties the show together, and for perhaps one of the funniest group of secondary characters to appear on the same screen. It's great to see Archer on FX carry on the dysfunctional family tradition from "Arrested Development," and to see all of the actors move on (more or less) to continued work on some inspired comedic projects. But now, let's get them all back together for that promised movie, damnit!
1. Seinfeld (1989-98)
Favorite Episode: "The Caddy"
Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld's genius decision to craft a sitcom that ignored the touchy-feely for the everyday hilarious created a mainstream comedy hit that NBC continues to search for today. The series is so rife with quotable lines, pop cultural creations, and memorable secondary characters that it would require a volume to chart its social significance. Though the series killed the careers of several of its stars (with the notable exception of David, whose "Curb Your Enthusiasm" was too off-the-wall to include in this list), its legacy remains untouchable to this day, and its prominent position in syndication during primetime on several networks attests to its staying power.
Did I forget your favorite? Let me know!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Virtual Dork-E3 2011
The geek in me has always wanted to attend E3. Getting paid to write about (and let's not forget play!) the upcoming blockbuster titles in the video game industry gets me all hot and bothered like Tony Gwyn on his way to Ryan's Steakhouse. Watching the off-screen videos posted by IGN and other gaming resources across the internet just isn't the same as actually being there and getting your hands on the software. Having said all of that, this year's show by proxy from Missouri has so underwhelmed me that I have decided to, in the vain of Will Ferrell's brilliant James Lipton impression, invent a word to convey my indifference.
Hohumsillery.
I'm going to try to forget in this post that two of my most anticipated games for the future (Half-Life 3 and Grand Theft Auto V) were nowhere to be found. I'm going to try to get out of my mind the haunting faces of those Miis playing Hide and Seek as "revolutionary" for the video game industry. I'm going to try to overlook the fact that the standout titles of the show were games we've already seen in the media hundreds of times. In other words, I'm going to try to be objective.
That's going to be difficult, what with Microsoft's "big reveal" of features for Xbox Live being limited use of Youtube on the console (a feature also of Nintendo's woefully-titled new "WiiU") and the ability to call up my Lady Gaga music videos I purchased off iTunes using my voice. The only exclusive announced for Xbox that even remotely interested me was Minecraft. The Halo 4 CG trailer only shows me that 343 Studios is scared stupid that they actually have to do something with Bungie's brainchild and are worried the gameplay they introduce will split the fanbase over a year and a half before the game is released. So, they rendered a video with countless nods to fanboys to gloss over the fact that they're probably going to butcher one of the most beloved franchises in shooter history. The Halo: CE remake looks like a lot of fun, with online co-op and classic map support, but until I can be assured that I can split some heads old-school Magnum style on Chill Out I'm going to remain cautiously optimistic at most.
As I haven't been a fan of Sony since the PS2 days, I didn't pay a ton of attention to their press conference. If the Vita alone was supposed to distract people from the fact that they couldn't play games online or purchase content for over a month, some marketing executive needs to lose his job. The PSP Go was an unmitigated disaster, and while there are several better-than-decent games that will be available for the Vita at launch, the same was true for the original PSP before the unit eventually began to lose steam. Why should consumers believe anything different will happen in this age of sophisticated smartphones that offer countless sources of gaming-on-the-go distraction? The biggest blunder of the conference, in my estimation, was Sony refusing to include Twisted Metal (perhaps a sleeper for Game of the Year) during their press conference, as it is clearly one of the system's finest exclusives that will be available this Fall.
Today, Nintendo unveiled some 3DS software (some good, some meh) during their press conference and closed with the official unveiling of the "WiiU." It, of course, sounds like perhaps the second least enviable college campus in the world (I'm still making Ohio State jokes). The control pad looks cumbersome, and the obvious emphasis placed upon third-party support for the console at launch only served the purpose of causing me to question why I can't play games like Assassin's Creed and Batman on the system Nintendo released six years ago, like the 360 and PS3? Why do I have to purchase a new console to play games that will almost certainly be ports of games I can play for $60 on my other system? Oh, sure, there will be "controller-connectivity," but I don't play shooters like Call of Duty so I can look down and access my inventory on some screen in front of me. I want a traditional controller without clutter for my hardcore titles, and Nintendo is going to have to do some major convincing if they expect the hardcore crowd to flock back after the Wii essentially shunned the entire community (don't believe me? Look at sales for MadWorld and Manhunt 2).
As a disclaimer, I understand that all of this is speculation, and it's difficult to develop reasoned decisions without the hardware and software in my hands. This is just one passionate gamer's opinions based upon an almost obsessive desire to make it out to California one year to see these games in person.
Hohumsillery.
I'm going to try to forget in this post that two of my most anticipated games for the future (Half-Life 3 and Grand Theft Auto V) were nowhere to be found. I'm going to try to get out of my mind the haunting faces of those Miis playing Hide and Seek as "revolutionary" for the video game industry. I'm going to try to overlook the fact that the standout titles of the show were games we've already seen in the media hundreds of times. In other words, I'm going to try to be objective.
That's going to be difficult, what with Microsoft's "big reveal" of features for Xbox Live being limited use of Youtube on the console (a feature also of Nintendo's woefully-titled new "WiiU") and the ability to call up my Lady Gaga music videos I purchased off iTunes using my voice. The only exclusive announced for Xbox that even remotely interested me was Minecraft. The Halo 4 CG trailer only shows me that 343 Studios is scared stupid that they actually have to do something with Bungie's brainchild and are worried the gameplay they introduce will split the fanbase over a year and a half before the game is released. So, they rendered a video with countless nods to fanboys to gloss over the fact that they're probably going to butcher one of the most beloved franchises in shooter history. The Halo: CE remake looks like a lot of fun, with online co-op and classic map support, but until I can be assured that I can split some heads old-school Magnum style on Chill Out I'm going to remain cautiously optimistic at most.
As I haven't been a fan of Sony since the PS2 days, I didn't pay a ton of attention to their press conference. If the Vita alone was supposed to distract people from the fact that they couldn't play games online or purchase content for over a month, some marketing executive needs to lose his job. The PSP Go was an unmitigated disaster, and while there are several better-than-decent games that will be available for the Vita at launch, the same was true for the original PSP before the unit eventually began to lose steam. Why should consumers believe anything different will happen in this age of sophisticated smartphones that offer countless sources of gaming-on-the-go distraction? The biggest blunder of the conference, in my estimation, was Sony refusing to include Twisted Metal (perhaps a sleeper for Game of the Year) during their press conference, as it is clearly one of the system's finest exclusives that will be available this Fall.
Today, Nintendo unveiled some 3DS software (some good, some meh) during their press conference and closed with the official unveiling of the "WiiU." It, of course, sounds like perhaps the second least enviable college campus in the world (I'm still making Ohio State jokes). The control pad looks cumbersome, and the obvious emphasis placed upon third-party support for the console at launch only served the purpose of causing me to question why I can't play games like Assassin's Creed and Batman on the system Nintendo released six years ago, like the 360 and PS3? Why do I have to purchase a new console to play games that will almost certainly be ports of games I can play for $60 on my other system? Oh, sure, there will be "controller-connectivity," but I don't play shooters like Call of Duty so I can look down and access my inventory on some screen in front of me. I want a traditional controller without clutter for my hardcore titles, and Nintendo is going to have to do some major convincing if they expect the hardcore crowd to flock back after the Wii essentially shunned the entire community (don't believe me? Look at sales for MadWorld and Manhunt 2).
As a disclaimer, I understand that all of this is speculation, and it's difficult to develop reasoned decisions without the hardware and software in my hands. This is just one passionate gamer's opinions based upon an almost obsessive desire to make it out to California one year to see these games in person.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Fuzzy Math and Finance, Pt. 1
Normally, I pay about as much attention to Yahoo's financial blog as I do the Lady Gaga outfit analysis that accompanies it on my Mail homepage. Any "news" agency that doesn't have enough journalistic decency to separate the Libyan crisis from who's leading the "Most Annoying Celebrity" race on this week's top-rated reality nonsense show on their ticker isn't going to draw much intellectual interest from me. Against my better judgment (and mostly because the idea of being "Financially Fit" paints a vivid and hilarious picture of someone doing step aerobics while filling out their I-9), I clicked on Brian O'Connel's coverage of the Top 10 Comeback Jobs of 2011 as reported by CareerBliss.com this afternoon.
What interested me wasn't the list (though the idea of simply ranking occupations based on a statistical change in annual wages amuses me to no end. If someone makes 30% of what constitutes a livable income, and their annual salary increases 200%, they're still living 40% below the poverty line. Would that qualify the wage-earner's occupation as a "comeback" job of 2011? The median income of the top occupation on the chart, a tax preparer, is $39,000 a year. Certainly better than the less than $28,000 that same worker earned in 2009, but hardly what we'd call "living on easy street" in modern America. The article doesn't even mention if the increase in cost of living [which has occurred throughout the United States at a rate of 4.8% since 2009] was factored into the salary increase rate). It was the implications made by O'Connel at the end of the article.
"Unfortunately, the list is loaded with service jobs and has a dearth of manufacturing jobs, which have traditionally been the backbone of the U.S. economy," O'Connel writes. While the author is correct in pointing out that service jobs overwhelmingly comprise the list (flawed as said list may be), he also displays an ignorance of the evolving nature of the global economy. We should have no reason to expect the manufacturing industry to ever obtain a level of increased wages for its workers that would place it anywhere near the top of a list like this (even if it were constructed with any degree of statistical legitimacy). The new global economy is based upon service and information, not manufacturing. We cannot expect some kind of boom in manufacturing to pull this country out of its economic slump. The age of riveting warships and installing wheel axles to promote fiscal growth are over. In many ways, the list (limited as it is) should be unsurprising to the modern American. We don't "make" things in this country anymore to accrue ludicrous amounts of wealth. New ideas, technical breakthroughs, and innovative service plans are the path to financial security in 21st Century America and, by extension, the world.
What interested me wasn't the list (though the idea of simply ranking occupations based on a statistical change in annual wages amuses me to no end. If someone makes 30% of what constitutes a livable income, and their annual salary increases 200%, they're still living 40% below the poverty line. Would that qualify the wage-earner's occupation as a "comeback" job of 2011? The median income of the top occupation on the chart, a tax preparer, is $39,000 a year. Certainly better than the less than $28,000 that same worker earned in 2009, but hardly what we'd call "living on easy street" in modern America. The article doesn't even mention if the increase in cost of living [which has occurred throughout the United States at a rate of 4.8% since 2009] was factored into the salary increase rate). It was the implications made by O'Connel at the end of the article.
"Unfortunately, the list is loaded with service jobs and has a dearth of manufacturing jobs, which have traditionally been the backbone of the U.S. economy," O'Connel writes. While the author is correct in pointing out that service jobs overwhelmingly comprise the list (flawed as said list may be), he also displays an ignorance of the evolving nature of the global economy. We should have no reason to expect the manufacturing industry to ever obtain a level of increased wages for its workers that would place it anywhere near the top of a list like this (even if it were constructed with any degree of statistical legitimacy). The new global economy is based upon service and information, not manufacturing. We cannot expect some kind of boom in manufacturing to pull this country out of its economic slump. The age of riveting warships and installing wheel axles to promote fiscal growth are over. In many ways, the list (limited as it is) should be unsurprising to the modern American. We don't "make" things in this country anymore to accrue ludicrous amounts of wealth. New ideas, technical breakthroughs, and innovative service plans are the path to financial security in 21st Century America and, by extension, the world.
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