In defense of 'Vice City'

Heralded upon its release in 2002, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City is a game that has a dubious honor I will call "the middle child syndrome."

Despite voice acting from Hollywood megastars like Ray Liotta (protagonist Tommy Vercetti), Burt Reynolds (real estate mogul Avery Carrington), NFL tough guy Lawrence Taylor (car salesman and former football pro BJ Smith), Dennis Hopper (porn movie auteur Steve Scott), Debbie Harry (taxi controller) and more, in the years since its release Vice City has been overshadowed by its predecessor GTA3, which rocketed the franchise into 3-D, and its follower San Andreas, heralded at the time for its massive, realistic world.

The high-definition era of Rockstar's signature franchise has revisited Liberty City and San Andreas, but never returned to the sandy, satiric shores of the GTA universe's Miami doppleganger. Some would argue that's because the pastels and excess that made sense in a game set in the 1980s wouldn't work with the new approach Rockstar has taken with the franchise. But many of those themes were present in Grand Theft Auto 5, set in southern California, and Michael De Santa was the closest thematically to Liotta's Vercetti that we've seen inhabiting the shoes of a GTA protagonist since 2002 (white man w/ ties to organized crime).

After achieving 100 percent completion in GTA3 recently, I fired up Vice City, a game I spent a lot of time with in the early 2000s both on my Playstation 2 and PC. The game's look and feel were immediate hooks, but many of the game's missions weren't as memorable as GTA3's were when I was replaying that game. At first, I thought this might be another reason Vice City gets lost in the shuffle of Rockstar's GTA history. But the truth is, it's because Vice City offers greater freedom, while at the same time funneling the player toward a satisfying conclusion to the main storyline, something that subsequent GTA games haven't been able to recapture.

An early mission in Vice City has you attending a yacht party thrown by Colonel Juan Cortez (voiced by 'Goonies' alumnus Robert Davi). At this party, you meet every character of consequence you'll see/work for later in the game: Carrington, Ricardo Diaz (Luis Guzman), Scott, Smith, members of the fictional rock group "Love Fist." Rockstar sets the table for the story of revenge and conquest you're about to embark on.

Then, the first portion of the game has you learning Vice City's new mechanics, like changing outfits, driving motorbikes and piloting helicopters. While these tutorials aren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination (can you say 'Demolition Man'?), the early missions serve as a stepping stone to the freedom that opens up once you waste Diaz.

From there, the decision falls to the player how to proceed. Which assets do you want to acquire? Do you go after the flashy Malibu club and pull off the series first true "heist" sequence (a mission structure revisited in just about every GTA game since)? Do you work for Scott, and find out some secrets about conservative congressman Alex Shrub? Do you spend the most money, but also attain the greatest reward, completing the missions for the Print Works, essential to unlocking the final showdown with mobster Sonny Forelli (Tom Sizemore)? Maybe street racing is your deal. Smith's Sunshine Autos is for you.

In a game series that emphasizes player choice, the way your reach the end game in Vice City is perhaps the most revolutionary that was seen in the franchise until the introduction of heists into GTAV. You choose what story elements you want to unlock first, rather than being guided through a series of missions that will ultimately result in the final confrontation. Not even San Andreas, voted the best GTA game in a fan poll just before the release of GTAV, had that kind of freedom. It's also a callback to the early 2D roots of the GTA series, which required only that you attain a "high score" (cash in the GTA universe) to progress through the game.

Vice City is an imperfect game, to be sure. It's targeting system is still awful, compared to later GTA titles, and the motorbikes just don't handle as well as they could. Many of the game's missions fall prey to the constricted structure of early 3D GTA titles: go here, kill some guys, pick this up, return.

But in terms of player choice, GTA: Vice City is perhaps one of the earliest and most successful experiments in the franchise. And it's still a blast to have that freedom at your fingertips, 14 years later.

What I've learned replaying Grand Theft Auto III

It was Christmas 2001. My mom took my brother and me to the Walmart near our house and picked up the Playstation 2, wrapped in brown packaging paper, which had been put on layaway until our gift exchange on New Year’s. But my brother received an NCAA football game from my grandparents a few days prior, and in my grubby mitts was a shiny new copy of Grand Theft Auto 3. I insisted we travel to pick up the new console right away.

And, within hours, I was transported to the expansive (and inappropriately violent) world of Liberty City. It was a far cry from the small confines of GTA2 on my original Playstation, a game that was inexplicably rated Teen and thus deemed appropriate for my age level by my parents. GTA3 was a hard Mature, but for some crazy reason that still isn’t clear to me I was able to convince my parents I could play it. What followed was my introduction to true 3D gaming, and the narrative potential of the medium that continues to inspire me to this day.
 

What a strange thing, then, to replay the game almost 15 years later, and to realize just how far game design has come in that decade and a half.

If you follow me on Twitch, I’ve been spending many an evening becoming reacquainted with Liberty City. Here are some things I’ve learned.

3D DRIVING WAS STILL A GIMMICK

Many of the early missions in GTA3 have you drive around the block, pick someone up and a cutscene plays. This was groundbreaking gameplay in 2001, when we’d been confined to cars or on-foot action in nearly every game imaginable. Only Driver 2, which had woefully inadequate on-foot action (you couldn’t even shoot!), had attempted this level of immersion before. Only when you’ve completed errands for the mob, and 8-Ball’s explosive-related skills are required in “Bomb da Base,” do the mission structures start to open up and become something special. Everything before that is fetch quests.

RAMPAGES SUCKED

GTAV puts you in the shoes of a rage-fueled Trevor Phillips for its “rampages,” which are just mini-missions all about mayhem. GTA3 locked your choice of weapon, and spawned dozens of manic enemies on the screen at once. Couple those mobs with some truly abysmal targeting controls and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

THE OVERWHELMING NOW MUNDANE

           

Remember when it seemed like that drove to Joey Leone’s garage from your safehouse took ages? It really took about 45 seconds. The timers in GTA3 seemed way too fast at the time to get from one end of Portland to the next, and I was dreading playing El Burro’s “Turismo” and “Big n’ Veiny” missions again because they were such a chore in my youth. But whether it’s because I’ve had more 3D driving practice or the complicated routes in current-gen open-world titles have hardened my reflexes, getting around Portland is a breeze.
  

ONE-NOTE CHARACTERS

Because GTA3 launched a series of look-alike games set in the criminal underworld, and it was called a “Mafioso masterpiece” upon its release, it’s easy to remember the game as a large step forward in videogame storytelling. The game is the ancestor of a title in GTAV that gave us multiple protagonists, leading wildly different lives on different socioeconomic plains, right? But that would be the wrong thing to remember. GTA3 is full of one-note and, frankly, racist and chauvinistic characters. Perhaps the complaint is unfair, given that the source material that inspired the game (gangster and heist movies) were full of one-note, racist and chauvinist characters, but this is not a major step forward in any way. It’s a simple revenge tale that consists of escalating gang violence that quickly turns allies on all three islands against you.

CHATTERBOX IS AS GREAT AS EVER

The talk radio stations in the GTA franchise have a long and stories history that can be traced to Lazlow and the Chatterbox program in GTA3. While other features of the game have aged poorly, as you’ve seen above, Lazlow’s program retains its biting social commentary and inventive guests and callers. Though the track is woefully short by today’s standards, and would be laughable in the 70+ hour campaign that is available in GTAV, it’s still laugh-out-loud funny for its entire running length and features more memorable moments than any other game in the series.

THE THREE ISLAND DESIGN IS THE WAY TO GO

Complained about heavily when the game first released, and in its subsequent sequels, the idea of revealing the map in waves to the player in GTA3 is undoubtedly a feature that should be reinstated at some point in the franchise, in order to preserve an element of whimsical discovery and a feeling of accomplishment in progressing through the game’s narrative. I’ve spent nearly 10 hours back in just Portland, and I’ve discovered paths I didn’t know existed when the game released even now. There’s something to be said for becoming intimately acquainted with areas of the map, then having the window expanded as you accomplish certain feats in the game. Yes, it’s fun to drive anywhere you want to at the beginning of GTAV. But none of the areas of the map feel special as a result of this freedom, in the same way Francis International Airport, the docks and other areas tantalized you on the Playstation 2.

That’s it for now. I’ll continue to add to this post as I play through Grand Theft Auto 3, and eventually Vice City (it’ll be awhile before I tackle San Andreas, and I did so a couple years ago on my Xbox 360, anyway, so the urgency isn’t really there for me). If you’d like to follow along on my nostalgic adventure, follow twitch.tv/kiphillreporter. 

My favorite movies of 2015 (abridged)

If it isn't abundantly clear at this point, my only free time to add to this blog seems to come at the end of the year. No matter. That's when I like to look back anyway, and to that end, I'm offering single-sentence reviews of all the films I saw this year, ranked in order.

Here we go, starting with the worst.

11) Avengers: Age of Ultron - A paltry 2 hour setup to the same ending we've seen dozens of times in these movies (see: Ant-Man).
10) Man from U.N.C.L.E. - Flashy style and great performances from Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer wasted on a film with no plot and no original ideas.
9) Ant-Man - A really cool heist movie becomes generic blah Marvel nonsense in the last act.
8) Spectre - Sam Mendes eliminates any goodwill with a bloated offering that manages to make Christoph Waltz uninteresting.
7) Steve Jobs - A play shot on the big screen that, like the movies above, isn't sure how to find a resolution without becoming generic and uninteresting.
6) Jurassic World - Dinosaurs run around unencumbered, while Chris Pratt does his best to save this sinking ship.
5) The Hateful Eight - Tarantino's eighth film features more hyper-violence and the dialogue we've come to expect, but the importance of the central "mystery" and bloated run time hold this Western back from being great.
4) Star Wars: The Force Awakens - An imperfect tribute to what made the original trilogy great, while also introducing an intriguing new generation of characters.
3) The Revenant - Leonardo's no good, very bad day has a perfectly good point and its performances are spot on, but its story is a complete mess once you get past the beautiful cinematography.
2) Spotlight - An old-timey feeling film that perfectly captures the triumphs and plight of the print journalist without getting bogged down in hero worship.
1) Mad Max: Fury Road - An action movie that isn't, George Miller's movie defies all expectations and keeps you gripped to your seat for two hours.

Still want to see (look for an update): The Big Short, Inside Out, Ex Machina, Straight Outta Compton, Trainwreck

An Inexplicably Close Look at an Incredibly Obscure Song: "10 Days Late" Third Eye Blind

Third Eye Blind burst onto the scene in the late '90s displaying an uncanny ability - like Matchbox Twenty, Semisonic, the Goo Goo Dolls and their ilk - to pen hits that blended complicated, sometimes soul-crushing things with sugary delicious pop rock licks. Whether it be the depths of crystal methamphetamine, suicide, or an incredibly painful break-up, Stephen Jenkins and the boys seemed to be able to tackle it with a riff that made the crowds feel like dancing anyway.

Perhaps the one strength that set the 'Frisco rockers apart from their mainstream contemporaries was their very real, very raw way of talking about sex - its passion, its complications, its fundamentals. This is a band that wrote about wasting days in bed, Cunnilingus that would make Colonel Angus blush and orgasms that last ages of summer afternoons.

Which makes "10 Days Late," the third single off the band's 1999 album "Blue," a bit of an anomaly.


In a way, the song is vintage 3EB. It's got a bass line followed by a riff that will tingle your spine. The chorus does not shy away from the, ahem, practical side of sexuality, making the ditty perhaps the highest-profile song about a missed period in pop music history. Jenkins croons and delivers punchy soundbites throughout.

But much like Ben Folds Five's "Brick," released a year prior to "10 Days," the song is almost hopelessly wrapped up in how the man's life is affected by the early pregnancy of a woman. Our dramatic voice in "10 Days" shows his juvenile perspective by saying, "I'm in trouble now, and it cannot wait." Never mind the fact that this young girl he's impregnated is faced with a decision that has moral, legal and life-altering ramifications.

Also, for some reason, there's a need for a choir and a cowbell in this one.

In an effort to continue its track record of writing about complicated themes, 3EB may have bit off more than they could chew with "10 Days Late." It's little wonder why the band's popularity faded considerably after the release of the single (OK, hardcore fans, I know the inner turmoil with Kevin Cadogan probably didn't help much).

Where "Brick" succeeded by emphasizing the limited perspective of its dramatic voice and adopting a sufficiently somber tone, elevating Ben Folds to a level of popularity that lingers today and causes Folds himself to question the message his song about abortion is leaving with folks, "10 Days Late" comes off as something Jenkins insisted it wasn't - just a modern pop/rock song about menstruation. It had the potential to be so much more.

Or maybe I'm just looking at it too closely.

The Shallow End Presents: An Inexplicably Close Look at an Obscure Song, Louis XIV "Finding Out True Love is Blind"

Pop music exists solely for the purpose of giving you that sugar rush, fizzy feeling only soda bubbles can provide. Of course, on closer inspection, the songs in this genre tend toward the flat, syrupy nonsense that signals it's time to crack open another 2-liter. Luckily, the Shallow End is here to lap up the dregs.

For all their differences, the two Louis XIV's that will go down in my history book (yeah, I'm writing one — professional baseball ends in 1985) actually have a lot in common. Sure, there's the discrepancy between their periods of relevance. The French monarch was in power for 72 years, while the San Diego-based rockers were a blip on the modern rock dial for roughly 72 hours. The king waged a war against Protestants, while the band focused their efforts on good musical taste (zing!). The king rested his head at the luxurious Palace of Versailles, while I can only suspect the band snoozed on a tour bus amid a group of squealing groupies. I mean, that's what Almost Famous taught me.

But perhaps the greatest congruency between the two is their inherent treatment of women as objects. This has become a central theme of the Inexplicably Close Look in our examinations so far, and in fact thinking about Louis XIV's semi-hit from 2005, "Finding Out True Love is Blind," I saw a clear cultural path from pop songs of days past.



The song provided some controversy when, in 2005, mega-school Hoover High in Alabama (that place where MTV filmed their high school football tell-all) banned the quartet from playing a gig under their roof. The reason? Promoting hedonism and rowdiness, with more than a hint of racism in the lyrics. Shallow End reports, you decide:

Ah chocolate girl, well you're looking like something I want
Ah and your little Asian friend well, well she can come if she wants
I want all the self conscious girls who try to hide who they are with makeup
You know it’s the girl with a frown with the tight pants I really want to shake up

OK, OK, ee cummings this is not. Let's also put aside the mildly amusing fact that a man wearing eyeshadow is crooning about picking a woman out of a glorified police lineup (everyone has their moment of "The Cure" weakness, I suppose). Is it racist?

Our dramatic voice in this song is soliciting a "chocolate girl." We can assume he doesn't mean the Hershey variety. And he clearly wants to friend-zone the "little Asian friend," perhaps she's coming along to carry the long train of garments Louis XIV was known to wear. There may be nothing sexual at all about the ditty. The last two lines clearly suggest this guy has something other than skin color on his mind, though. And that's getting with women who are insecure about themselves and perhaps one who will put up a bit of a fight in the process. Racist? Probably not. Morally reprehensible? You decide that one.

Really, we shouldn't fault Louis XIV though. I mean, "Finding Out True Love is Blind" is just an extension of the path we've been on since the Beach Boys' "California Girls" to Lou Bega's "Mambo No. 5." Yes, I did just mention those...shudder...artists in the same sentence (Bega, you owe me a beer for that last remark — that is, if those royalty checks from 1999 are still rolling in. If not, I'll take a rain check). For a band so keen on invoking history, it's only fair we afford them the misogynistic context they so rightfully deserve.

(Let's be fair to the Beach Boys, who were singing in a different time and place in our culture. But if one need see evidence of how far the "California Girls" conceit can be taken to the male-dominated extreme in our current culture of sexual dynamics, look — if you dare — no further than David Lee Roth's update.)

Let's not carry this too far, though. I mean, Louis XIV the band is merely singing to a generation of girls who are being told that their idols objectify the female form, while Louis XIV the man actually seduced mistresses in addition to his wife, who bore him six children. In between all that purging the continent of Protestants stuff and setting in place the contempt of authority that ultimately spurred the French Revolution.

The affront on your eardrums (and your liberal-minded tendencies) will have to make the call about which was more detrimental to mankind. Or maybe you'd rather spend time thinking about something more productive, like I should have been doing.

The Shallow End Presents: An Inexplicably Close Look at an Obscure Song "Some Postman" by The Presidents of the United States of America

In an effort to post with this blog with increasing frequency, and because of a new-found awareness of the obscurity of my music taste while running with an iPod in the cold weather, I've decided to delight you, dear Shallow End reader (all three of you), with some of my thoughts on the random-ness that comes across my shuffle screen. This will be a semi-regular feature (read: whenever I'm not pulling my hair out about a quantitative reading assignment) so stay tuned!

This edition of the inexplicably close look centers on that kooky mid-90s favorite alt rock band, The Presidents of the United States of America. You'll remember them as those guys who wrote that song that Weird Al covered into a Forrest Gump spoof. Well, soon after the trio went on an indefinite hiatus for reasons unknown to this blogger. Perhaps the gents didn't want to be lumped in with the scandals of the second half of the Clinton presidency. Or people started buying their peaches at organic wholesalers.

In any event, the Presidents returned in 2004 with "Some Postman," returning to that odd world in which many of the band's songs take place where apparently the mail carriers are malevolent and Smurfs are 30-feet tall. The angst-filled power pop ditty is told through the eyes of an upset lover whose melodramatic missives are being intercepted by a disturbingly voyeuristic postman. Think Newman, but one who exclusively eats chocolates meant for another.

The song, perhaps self-consciously, is riddled with anachronisms. We're supposed to expect that lovers, in the age of sexting and Skype, are still trusting their love notes to employees of the federal government? And that said employee is clocking in at 6 a.m.? And ignoring the obvious breach of political correctness (why can't a female post carrier be pilfering my sonnets)? The band seems to come to terms with this just before the final verse, as a mournful cry of "1993!!!" follows the chorus. If only, Presidents. If only.

Of course, we could be missing the point entirely. Perhaps the postman is, himself, fictional. And the Presidents are singing out the uncertainty of love. Maybe that lover crying waiting for the package wants to believe there's some mean, hound-dog evading man in a safari hat hoarding her box of chocolate roses from Danny, who's totally committed to her but also wishes to finish his dissertation in a town full of young co-eds longing for a slightly older and grizzled art history Ph.D. candidate. Perhaps some postman is simply a Love in the Time of Cholera-esque metaphor about the idyllic nature of love and the inability to every truly know that it is being returned to you.

Or maybe I'm looking too closely.