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
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Couch Surfin': The Memorable 'Sopranos' Saga
I was a little late to the party on "The Sopranos." It was always on my list of shows to watch, but for some reason "House," "The Wire" and "How I Met Your Mother" took precedence during my college days of lazily binge-watching online episodes between classes, runs and work.
With the death of James Gandolfini last summer, I figured I owed it to his memory and to my own sensibilities to give the series its due. It took me a year, but I finished the saga this weekend and am in the reflective mood.
The below list may not be the finest episodes of David Chase's classic HBO series, for which we can thank the future airing of shows like "The Wire," "Boardwalk Empire" and "Breaking Bad." Gandolfini and co. showed us we could stomach adult drama on premium television outside the boundaries of traditional broadcast "seasons" and exceeding the content allowed by censors. It may not be the best of that bunch, but it blazed a trail we can duly credit as creating the glut of fantastic TV drama we enjoy today.
SPOILERS BELOW. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
"College"
Originally aired: Feb. 7, 1999
"Am I in the what?"
The draw of "The Sopranos," from the beginning, was the centralized character of Tony Soprano, a flawed leader who is trying to juggle the modern demands of fatherhood while reconciling his violent identity as a leader of organized crime. No episode portrays this better than "College," and there's good reason it's cited by many as the best episode of the series. Contrast the above scene, where Tony attempts to rationalize his role to his daughter, Meadow, with the chilling scene where he strangles an old foe. There's a reason "The Sopranos" hit it big early, and "College" was a major part of that.
"House Arrest"
Originally aired: March 26, 2000
"I don't give a shit if you're working with Wal-Mart. Knock it the fuck off."
The downfall of Vito Corleone was his unwillingness to sell hard drugs. There are echoes of "The Godfather," "Goodfellas" and countless other gangster film classics in "The Sopranos." The characters are self-aware that their leading lives glamorized by modern media. The writers co-opted this disdain for hard drugs in Tony's character and his memorable spat with Richie Aprile, setting up the eventual showdown with Uncle Junior that was the basis for much of the dramatic tension in the show's first few seasons. "House Arrest" is also memorable for showing Tony's commitment (and addiction) to the lifestyle. When his lawyer orders him to lay low, Tony's inability to interact with his criminal crew becomes an unbearable burden.
"The Knight in White Satin Armor"
Originally aired: April 2, 2000
"Ballroom dancing is a legitimate art form."
The spat between Richie Aprile and Tony was clearly headed for some kind of resolution, though who would have guessed it would be Janice who put the beef to bed? "The Knight in White Satin Armor" is notable for its exploration of the relationship between Tony and Janice, a complicated tete a tete that lasted for the entirety of the show's run. Gandolfini shows his chops in the scene when he discovers Aprile is dead. There's a look of relief, surprise and - dare I say it - admiration when he sees Richie lying dead in Janice's arms.
"Funhouse"
Originally aired: April 9, 2000
"Why you making me do this, you fat, miserable, piece of fuckin' shit?"
The writers gave us little time to grieve for Richie Aprile before offing Salvatore "Big Pussy" Bonpensiero the next week. Pussy was ratting to the FBI, and when Tony finds out, he orders the hit. Pussy's death becomes a major theme throughout the rest of the show, with Vincent Pastore making multiple guest appearances as Tony's subconscious wrangles with having to "deal with" one of his best friends and top earners. There's a memorable mirror in the final season, as Paulie Walnuts thinks back to Pussy's death and believes Tony's out to off him, too.
"Pine Barrens"
Originally aired: May 6, 2001
"You had Tic-Tacs all along? Give me some!"
Steve Buscemi lent his considerable talents to this episode behind the camera, considered another of the series' best, before appearing as Tony's cousin in Season 5. As bit characters go, Christopher Moltisanti and Paulie Gualtieri are perhaps the most interesting in "Sopranos" lore. Christopher must deal with the struggles of being the youngest among the made guys and having his balls constantly broken. Add in substance addiction and constant grief with Paulie, and you have a character that played a huge role in the series' run despite never fully receiving top billing. In "Pine Barrens," we see that constant grief play out in a way that sows seeds for conflict to come.
"Amor Fou"
Originally aired: May 13, 2001
"Kill me. Kill me, you cocksucker."
Of all Tony's love affairs, the most dangerous turned out to be with the beautiful and demented car dealer, Gloria Trillo. She grows jealous of his wife, and his other women, and is one of the few who calls him out on it, prompting a violent showdown that terrifies Tony to his core. Though he sleeps with many women, it is Gloria who continues to recur in his mind long after he learns of her suicide. There's a reason. She illustrates the same mental weakness as him, and he worries her inability to cope reflects a similar possibility within himself.
"Whoever Did This"
Originally aired: November 10, 2002
"That's funny about God, and faith, and shit like that."
It's tough to pick one episode where Ralph Cifaretto can be best remembered. His strange sexual relationship with Janice, and jokes about Johnny Sack's wife and obsession with the film "Gladiator" provided a constant burr in Tony's saddle. So it's unsurprising that Tony takes care of Ralph, but it is surprising about what puts him over the edge: the death of his prized race horse. The resulting cleanup brings Christopher and Tony closer together, but also reveals the extent of his drug addiction that will ultimately prove to be his downfall with Tony.
"The Strong, Silent Type"
Originally aired: November 17, 2002
"You're weak. You're out of control. And you've become an embarrassment to yourself and everybody else."
It's hard to pick what is most memorable about "The Strong, Silent Type." Tony sleeping with Svetlana, which eventually becomes the basis for his separation from Carmela. The painting of Pie-O-My that eventually finds its way to Paulie's mantle, and becomes the basis for Tony's disdain later in the series. The growing unease between Furio and Carmela. For my money, it's Christopher's intervention, which eventually sets him on the beleaguered path to get sober. The scene is at once darkly comic, wrought with tension and one of the few times the members of Tony's personal family and criminal family interact on a personal level. It's one of the most memorable scenes of the series.
"Unidentified Black Males"
Originally aired: May 2, 2004
"Fuck his foot! It's not his foot! Forget the foot!"
Another episode that's difficult to pin down one or two memorable moments alone. Growing tension between Tony and his cousin Tony (Steve Buscemi) leads to a revelation in Dr. Melfi's office, however, that is one of the most superbly acted scenes in the series. Tony reveals his guilt that his cousin went to prison, and not him, because of a panic attack following an argument with his mother. It's a brief moment of insight that brings Tony to his knees, and it's a shame the whole scene isn't on YouTube. Meanwhile, Finn witnesses Vito in a compromising position that leads to a memorable story arc in the next season.
"Long Term Parking"
Originally aired: May 23, 2004
"Jesus, I don't even know how to say this. It's Christopher."
It's tough to watch "The Sopranos" and not feel slightly sorry for Adriana. Christopher goes through mood swings and she stands dutifully by his side, even through the worst possible drug addiction. A perceived fling with Tony creates friction between the two, but she comes back into his arms. Then, when she seeks to confide in him and get away from the life, he turns around and sells her out to Tony and Syl, who then use her concern for Christopher to entrap her. What's incredibly heartbreaking is that Adriana imagines leaving before agreeing to the ride with Syl. The execution scene is painful to watch, and becomes a source of conflict between Tony and Christopher in ensuing seasons.
"Johnny Cakes"
Originally aired: April 30, 2006
"Listen, Marie, I'm sorry all this had to happen. I never meant to hurt you."
Vito Spatafore went from an interesting bit character to a full-blown story arc in the first half of the Sopranos' sixth season. His struggle with his sexuality, and the differing opinions it inspires in Tony, his crew and the families, provides an original look into modern perceptions about homosexuality and perfect fodder for Phil Leotardo's eventual vendetta against Tony. John Costelloe offers an inspired turn as Jim "Johnny Cakes" Witowski. That Joseph Gannascoli, the actor who portrayed Vito, brought the idea for his character being gay to David Chase and never received top recognition for his performance or idea is a disgrace.
"Second Coming"
Originally aired: May 20, 2007
"You're OK, baby. You're OK, baby."
Anthony Jr. was always an impediment to Tony's mental well-being. He worries about his son all the time, and as Meadow rightfully points out to her brother, it's because he's the only son in an Italian family that Tony is able to be floored by the depression of his son. While the abrupt departure of Blanca throws him into a depressed funk, neither Tony nor Carmella really believe he's at his wit's end until an ill-fated suicide attempt in the family pool. Tony's reaction - immediate rage, then a return to the fatherly instinct of protection - is at once profound and extremely telling about his character. Even in the midst of a potentially life-ending conflict with Phil Leotardo, Tony reverts to his fatherhood role in an instant.
"Made in America"
Originally aired: June 10, 2007
"I went ahead and ordered some for the table."
What discussion of memorable scenes from "The Sopranos" would be complete without a nodding reference to the final scene? Much maligned when it aired, the final moments of the Sopranos family on the small screen made me squeal with existential joy. Who is that man who goes to the bathroom? Who does Tony see when he looks up to the ringing of the bell at the door? Which "evil at the door" - the remnants of Phil Leotardo's crew, a disenchanted Paulie Walnuts or the "80 to 90 percent chance" of federal indictment will fall Tony Soprano? David Chase decided to let the viewers sort that out, rather than end his series with a definitive answer. As an avid opponent of post-modern non-endings, I can't believe I'm typing these words. But this was the perfect way to end Tony's story. Full stop.
What about you? What moments in Sopranos history do you remember most?
With the death of James Gandolfini last summer, I figured I owed it to his memory and to my own sensibilities to give the series its due. It took me a year, but I finished the saga this weekend and am in the reflective mood.
The below list may not be the finest episodes of David Chase's classic HBO series, for which we can thank the future airing of shows like "The Wire," "Boardwalk Empire" and "Breaking Bad." Gandolfini and co. showed us we could stomach adult drama on premium television outside the boundaries of traditional broadcast "seasons" and exceeding the content allowed by censors. It may not be the best of that bunch, but it blazed a trail we can duly credit as creating the glut of fantastic TV drama we enjoy today.
SPOILERS BELOW. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
"College"
Originally aired: Feb. 7, 1999
"Am I in the what?"
The draw of "The Sopranos," from the beginning, was the centralized character of Tony Soprano, a flawed leader who is trying to juggle the modern demands of fatherhood while reconciling his violent identity as a leader of organized crime. No episode portrays this better than "College," and there's good reason it's cited by many as the best episode of the series. Contrast the above scene, where Tony attempts to rationalize his role to his daughter, Meadow, with the chilling scene where he strangles an old foe. There's a reason "The Sopranos" hit it big early, and "College" was a major part of that.
"House Arrest"
Originally aired: March 26, 2000
"I don't give a shit if you're working with Wal-Mart. Knock it the fuck off."
The downfall of Vito Corleone was his unwillingness to sell hard drugs. There are echoes of "The Godfather," "Goodfellas" and countless other gangster film classics in "The Sopranos." The characters are self-aware that their leading lives glamorized by modern media. The writers co-opted this disdain for hard drugs in Tony's character and his memorable spat with Richie Aprile, setting up the eventual showdown with Uncle Junior that was the basis for much of the dramatic tension in the show's first few seasons. "House Arrest" is also memorable for showing Tony's commitment (and addiction) to the lifestyle. When his lawyer orders him to lay low, Tony's inability to interact with his criminal crew becomes an unbearable burden.
"The Knight in White Satin Armor"
Originally aired: April 2, 2000
"Ballroom dancing is a legitimate art form."
The spat between Richie Aprile and Tony was clearly headed for some kind of resolution, though who would have guessed it would be Janice who put the beef to bed? "The Knight in White Satin Armor" is notable for its exploration of the relationship between Tony and Janice, a complicated tete a tete that lasted for the entirety of the show's run. Gandolfini shows his chops in the scene when he discovers Aprile is dead. There's a look of relief, surprise and - dare I say it - admiration when he sees Richie lying dead in Janice's arms.
"Funhouse"
Originally aired: April 9, 2000
"Why you making me do this, you fat, miserable, piece of fuckin' shit?"
The writers gave us little time to grieve for Richie Aprile before offing Salvatore "Big Pussy" Bonpensiero the next week. Pussy was ratting to the FBI, and when Tony finds out, he orders the hit. Pussy's death becomes a major theme throughout the rest of the show, with Vincent Pastore making multiple guest appearances as Tony's subconscious wrangles with having to "deal with" one of his best friends and top earners. There's a memorable mirror in the final season, as Paulie Walnuts thinks back to Pussy's death and believes Tony's out to off him, too.
"Pine Barrens"
Originally aired: May 6, 2001
"You had Tic-Tacs all along? Give me some!"
Steve Buscemi lent his considerable talents to this episode behind the camera, considered another of the series' best, before appearing as Tony's cousin in Season 5. As bit characters go, Christopher Moltisanti and Paulie Gualtieri are perhaps the most interesting in "Sopranos" lore. Christopher must deal with the struggles of being the youngest among the made guys and having his balls constantly broken. Add in substance addiction and constant grief with Paulie, and you have a character that played a huge role in the series' run despite never fully receiving top billing. In "Pine Barrens," we see that constant grief play out in a way that sows seeds for conflict to come.
"Amor Fou"
Originally aired: May 13, 2001
"Kill me. Kill me, you cocksucker."
Of all Tony's love affairs, the most dangerous turned out to be with the beautiful and demented car dealer, Gloria Trillo. She grows jealous of his wife, and his other women, and is one of the few who calls him out on it, prompting a violent showdown that terrifies Tony to his core. Though he sleeps with many women, it is Gloria who continues to recur in his mind long after he learns of her suicide. There's a reason. She illustrates the same mental weakness as him, and he worries her inability to cope reflects a similar possibility within himself.
"Whoever Did This"
Originally aired: November 10, 2002
"That's funny about God, and faith, and shit like that."
It's tough to pick one episode where Ralph Cifaretto can be best remembered. His strange sexual relationship with Janice, and jokes about Johnny Sack's wife and obsession with the film "Gladiator" provided a constant burr in Tony's saddle. So it's unsurprising that Tony takes care of Ralph, but it is surprising about what puts him over the edge: the death of his prized race horse. The resulting cleanup brings Christopher and Tony closer together, but also reveals the extent of his drug addiction that will ultimately prove to be his downfall with Tony.
"The Strong, Silent Type"
Originally aired: November 17, 2002
"You're weak. You're out of control. And you've become an embarrassment to yourself and everybody else."
It's hard to pick what is most memorable about "The Strong, Silent Type." Tony sleeping with Svetlana, which eventually becomes the basis for his separation from Carmela. The painting of Pie-O-My that eventually finds its way to Paulie's mantle, and becomes the basis for Tony's disdain later in the series. The growing unease between Furio and Carmela. For my money, it's Christopher's intervention, which eventually sets him on the beleaguered path to get sober. The scene is at once darkly comic, wrought with tension and one of the few times the members of Tony's personal family and criminal family interact on a personal level. It's one of the most memorable scenes of the series.
"Unidentified Black Males"
Originally aired: May 2, 2004
"Fuck his foot! It's not his foot! Forget the foot!"
Another episode that's difficult to pin down one or two memorable moments alone. Growing tension between Tony and his cousin Tony (Steve Buscemi) leads to a revelation in Dr. Melfi's office, however, that is one of the most superbly acted scenes in the series. Tony reveals his guilt that his cousin went to prison, and not him, because of a panic attack following an argument with his mother. It's a brief moment of insight that brings Tony to his knees, and it's a shame the whole scene isn't on YouTube. Meanwhile, Finn witnesses Vito in a compromising position that leads to a memorable story arc in the next season.
"Long Term Parking"
Originally aired: May 23, 2004
"Jesus, I don't even know how to say this. It's Christopher."
It's tough to watch "The Sopranos" and not feel slightly sorry for Adriana. Christopher goes through mood swings and she stands dutifully by his side, even through the worst possible drug addiction. A perceived fling with Tony creates friction between the two, but she comes back into his arms. Then, when she seeks to confide in him and get away from the life, he turns around and sells her out to Tony and Syl, who then use her concern for Christopher to entrap her. What's incredibly heartbreaking is that Adriana imagines leaving before agreeing to the ride with Syl. The execution scene is painful to watch, and becomes a source of conflict between Tony and Christopher in ensuing seasons.
"Johnny Cakes"
Originally aired: April 30, 2006
"Listen, Marie, I'm sorry all this had to happen. I never meant to hurt you."
Vito Spatafore went from an interesting bit character to a full-blown story arc in the first half of the Sopranos' sixth season. His struggle with his sexuality, and the differing opinions it inspires in Tony, his crew and the families, provides an original look into modern perceptions about homosexuality and perfect fodder for Phil Leotardo's eventual vendetta against Tony. John Costelloe offers an inspired turn as Jim "Johnny Cakes" Witowski. That Joseph Gannascoli, the actor who portrayed Vito, brought the idea for his character being gay to David Chase and never received top recognition for his performance or idea is a disgrace.
"Second Coming"
Originally aired: May 20, 2007
"You're OK, baby. You're OK, baby."
Anthony Jr. was always an impediment to Tony's mental well-being. He worries about his son all the time, and as Meadow rightfully points out to her brother, it's because he's the only son in an Italian family that Tony is able to be floored by the depression of his son. While the abrupt departure of Blanca throws him into a depressed funk, neither Tony nor Carmella really believe he's at his wit's end until an ill-fated suicide attempt in the family pool. Tony's reaction - immediate rage, then a return to the fatherly instinct of protection - is at once profound and extremely telling about his character. Even in the midst of a potentially life-ending conflict with Phil Leotardo, Tony reverts to his fatherhood role in an instant.
"Made in America"
Originally aired: June 10, 2007
"I went ahead and ordered some for the table."
What discussion of memorable scenes from "The Sopranos" would be complete without a nodding reference to the final scene? Much maligned when it aired, the final moments of the Sopranos family on the small screen made me squeal with existential joy. Who is that man who goes to the bathroom? Who does Tony see when he looks up to the ringing of the bell at the door? Which "evil at the door" - the remnants of Phil Leotardo's crew, a disenchanted Paulie Walnuts or the "80 to 90 percent chance" of federal indictment will fall Tony Soprano? David Chase decided to let the viewers sort that out, rather than end his series with a definitive answer. As an avid opponent of post-modern non-endings, I can't believe I'm typing these words. But this was the perfect way to end Tony's story. Full stop.
What about you? What moments in Sopranos history do you remember most?
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Virtual Dork: Infamous Second Son Review
While I've owned a PS4 for the better part of three months now, I've used it mostly to watch Blu-Rays and play free downloadable titles. With the launch of any console comes that inevitable dead period that can last anywhere from a few months to half-a-year in which software is at a premium and exclusives are almost unheard of.
I was eager, then, to get my hands on Sucker Punch's Infamous: Second Son. While I was an Xbox guy in the last generation and, admittedly, haven't played any of the series' titles to date, I'm a sucker (no pun intended) for a good open-world title that gives my character the power to wreak havoc on a massive scale.
What Sucker Punch does well in Second Son, it does as well (if not better) than anyone in the business. Sadly, however, Second Son is little more than a graphical and storytelling step-up from a number of other games already available in the current generation.
The story sucks you in immediately. You're Delsin Rowe, a member of the Akomish tribe whose past is clearly checkered. The player is immediately introduced to the spray-tagging mechanic, a nice use of the DualShock 4's motion sensing and built-in sound system. While I still think motion detection and the controller's touchpad are nothing more than gimmicks, they're used to good effect in Second Son, immersing you further into the game world without becoming too much of a hindrance.
From there, you're off on the grandest of the game's many fetch-quests, to attain cement-altering powers from the game's main antagonist: Brooke Augustine, leader of the Department of Unified Protection who has captured all of the element-controlling superheroes known as "Conduits" (or Bio-Terrorists) in the game world. She's made Seattle her base of operations and you'll have a blast shredding it to pieces with smoke, neon and video powers, each with its own set of visual and combat goodies.
Along the way, you'll make choices about whom to save or who to throw to the wolves; whether you'll use nonlethal force and blast away the bad guys and innocent civilians alike; and learn more about the D.U.P. from an intriguing alternative-reality game (ARG) that takes place in the Seattle game world and on your browser. Infamous: Paper Trail may be the most unique thing the game does and it extends the life of an otherwise repetitive series of missions that never truly opens the sandbox entirely to your will.
Seattle looks gorgeous, Delsin's character is incredibly detailed (down to the buttons on his denim jacket) and you'll want to stop on a rooftop all Batman-like and watch the Seattleites go about their day in a society on the brink of dystopia. In particular, Delsin's relationship with his sheriff's deputy brother, Reggie, is a high point in the game. These guys feel like brothers, and when the weight of the narrative gets too heavy, they're bantering always brings it back to a lighthearted spot.
The cutscenes, which are in some cases artistically rendered as panels in a comic book per the series' stylistic motif, are really the only reason to slog through what quickly becomes a repetitive series of missions that only alter slightly as the game progresses. You'll be doing the same thing on the game's second island as you did on the first - tracking down secret DUP agents by their mug shots, chasing hovering security cameras for their shards that act as the game's currency for upgrading your powers and occasionally choosing whether to decimate a crowd of drug dealers or subdue them and smash their goods. The only thing that changes is how much punishing the enemies can take and the presence of Augustine's cement fortifications. That's it.
Meanwhile, you become much more powerful as the game progresses. In open-world games, I like to knock out all the sidequests so I can be sure my character has an entire arsenal at his disposal in the end game. Because of this, I unlocked the neon karmic streak ability (a devastating attack that slows the game to a crawl and you blast neon juice out of your arms, subduing all enemies in a 2-block radius) rather early on. I also earned the ability to blast at weak subdue points on enemies in bullet-time that made wrapping them up a breeze.
As a result, every combat situation turned in to the same rinse and repeat, subdue enough guys to earn the karmic streak then take everyone else down checklist. Combat became a chore that was as simple as lifting a pinkie, no matter the abilities or resistance of the enemies I faced.
The game rushes to an inevitable showdown with Augustine that does pack a whallup and ingeniously includes the "learning a new power" schtick in the final boss battle that made me feel like a badass. Getting there, however, was another story. You have to climb the tallest tower in the game, and with two allies in tow and hundreds of enemies firing at you, an errant missile is bound to send you plummeting over the edge, which is an instant MISSION FAILED screen. Sure, you respawn rather close to where you were, but in a game that pushes how much of a badass you are falling 10 feet equating to a game over is a ridiculous conceit that pulls you out of the game world.
Infamous: Second Son is the first truly exclusive, next-gen game on the PS4. For that reason alone, I recommend playing the title. But it isn't the huge leap forward in terms of gameplay you'd expect from a next-gen game. It's a better-than-average open world game designed with the last generation in mind that looks simply stunning and is written by people who get storytelling in games.
I recommend a bargain-bin purchase.
Verdict: 3/5 stars.
I was eager, then, to get my hands on Sucker Punch's Infamous: Second Son. While I was an Xbox guy in the last generation and, admittedly, haven't played any of the series' titles to date, I'm a sucker (no pun intended) for a good open-world title that gives my character the power to wreak havoc on a massive scale.
What Sucker Punch does well in Second Son, it does as well (if not better) than anyone in the business. Sadly, however, Second Son is little more than a graphical and storytelling step-up from a number of other games already available in the current generation.
The story sucks you in immediately. You're Delsin Rowe, a member of the Akomish tribe whose past is clearly checkered. The player is immediately introduced to the spray-tagging mechanic, a nice use of the DualShock 4's motion sensing and built-in sound system. While I still think motion detection and the controller's touchpad are nothing more than gimmicks, they're used to good effect in Second Son, immersing you further into the game world without becoming too much of a hindrance.
From there, you're off on the grandest of the game's many fetch-quests, to attain cement-altering powers from the game's main antagonist: Brooke Augustine, leader of the Department of Unified Protection who has captured all of the element-controlling superheroes known as "Conduits" (or Bio-Terrorists) in the game world. She's made Seattle her base of operations and you'll have a blast shredding it to pieces with smoke, neon and video powers, each with its own set of visual and combat goodies.
Along the way, you'll make choices about whom to save or who to throw to the wolves; whether you'll use nonlethal force and blast away the bad guys and innocent civilians alike; and learn more about the D.U.P. from an intriguing alternative-reality game (ARG) that takes place in the Seattle game world and on your browser. Infamous: Paper Trail may be the most unique thing the game does and it extends the life of an otherwise repetitive series of missions that never truly opens the sandbox entirely to your will.
Seattle looks gorgeous, Delsin's character is incredibly detailed (down to the buttons on his denim jacket) and you'll want to stop on a rooftop all Batman-like and watch the Seattleites go about their day in a society on the brink of dystopia. In particular, Delsin's relationship with his sheriff's deputy brother, Reggie, is a high point in the game. These guys feel like brothers, and when the weight of the narrative gets too heavy, they're bantering always brings it back to a lighthearted spot.
The cutscenes, which are in some cases artistically rendered as panels in a comic book per the series' stylistic motif, are really the only reason to slog through what quickly becomes a repetitive series of missions that only alter slightly as the game progresses. You'll be doing the same thing on the game's second island as you did on the first - tracking down secret DUP agents by their mug shots, chasing hovering security cameras for their shards that act as the game's currency for upgrading your powers and occasionally choosing whether to decimate a crowd of drug dealers or subdue them and smash their goods. The only thing that changes is how much punishing the enemies can take and the presence of Augustine's cement fortifications. That's it.
Meanwhile, you become much more powerful as the game progresses. In open-world games, I like to knock out all the sidequests so I can be sure my character has an entire arsenal at his disposal in the end game. Because of this, I unlocked the neon karmic streak ability (a devastating attack that slows the game to a crawl and you blast neon juice out of your arms, subduing all enemies in a 2-block radius) rather early on. I also earned the ability to blast at weak subdue points on enemies in bullet-time that made wrapping them up a breeze.
As a result, every combat situation turned in to the same rinse and repeat, subdue enough guys to earn the karmic streak then take everyone else down checklist. Combat became a chore that was as simple as lifting a pinkie, no matter the abilities or resistance of the enemies I faced.
The game rushes to an inevitable showdown with Augustine that does pack a whallup and ingeniously includes the "learning a new power" schtick in the final boss battle that made me feel like a badass. Getting there, however, was another story. You have to climb the tallest tower in the game, and with two allies in tow and hundreds of enemies firing at you, an errant missile is bound to send you plummeting over the edge, which is an instant MISSION FAILED screen. Sure, you respawn rather close to where you were, but in a game that pushes how much of a badass you are falling 10 feet equating to a game over is a ridiculous conceit that pulls you out of the game world.
Infamous: Second Son is the first truly exclusive, next-gen game on the PS4. For that reason alone, I recommend playing the title. But it isn't the huge leap forward in terms of gameplay you'd expect from a next-gen game. It's a better-than-average open world game designed with the last generation in mind that looks simply stunning and is written by people who get storytelling in games.
I recommend a bargain-bin purchase.
Verdict: 3/5 stars.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
An Inexplicably Close Look at an Obscure Song: The Ataris "Boys of Summer"
When I was a kid, like many I dreamed of rock and roll weekends. I even held a bass at one point and attempted to learn the instrument, despite having the rhythm of some combination of Anthony Michael Hall characters from the 1980s.
There were two names I wanted for my band, to be emblazoned across the drum set as I made young women swoon with my delicious licks. The first was The Ecto-Coolers. The second was The Ataris.
As far as I know, the Hi-C inspired moniker is still up for grabs. I was devastated when I learned sometime around the 10th grade my back-up dreams were dashed.
If you're going to name yourselves after the early 80s video game console of choice, you better be damn good. The Ataris seemed it when I started listening to their music right around junior high. "Angry Nerd Rock" is still one of my angsty favorites from those days, when American Hi-Fi and Mest were on repeat in my portable CD player and Dude Where's My Car? was in my VCR.
Ahem. Back off the nostalgia train.
"Boys of Summer" never really made much sense to me. I mean, yeah, I understood it when it was played at baseball stadiums and whatnot, but the whole concept seemed dated, even in the 1980s. Was Don Henley singing about gypsies? Who were these boys, and more importantly, where did their female counterparts come from? Are there hordes of young attractive people who burrow themselves underground in winter and show up for sex, drugs and rock and roll in the summer? Is that what those Disney internships are all about?
The Ataris cover of the 1984 hit answers none of these questions, and it also avoids what a good cover song should do - that is, take a song and change its style, message or some other facet to make it your own. For example, the millions of ska/punk covers of 80s songs. Or Authority Zero's (contemporary with The Ataris) cover of "Mexican Radio."
What we get with The Ataris is a straightforward, power pop version of a song that was already a straightforward, power pop piece that is the musical equivalent of a corn dog - battered with sweetness, but unfilling and leaving you with regret.
The Ataris would have been better off covering the Juno First theme song. But maybe I'm just looking into it too closely.
There were two names I wanted for my band, to be emblazoned across the drum set as I made young women swoon with my delicious licks. The first was The Ecto-Coolers. The second was The Ataris.
As far as I know, the Hi-C inspired moniker is still up for grabs. I was devastated when I learned sometime around the 10th grade my back-up dreams were dashed.
If you're going to name yourselves after the early 80s video game console of choice, you better be damn good. The Ataris seemed it when I started listening to their music right around junior high. "Angry Nerd Rock" is still one of my angsty favorites from those days, when American Hi-Fi and Mest were on repeat in my portable CD player and Dude Where's My Car? was in my VCR.
Ahem. Back off the nostalgia train.
"Boys of Summer" never really made much sense to me. I mean, yeah, I understood it when it was played at baseball stadiums and whatnot, but the whole concept seemed dated, even in the 1980s. Was Don Henley singing about gypsies? Who were these boys, and more importantly, where did their female counterparts come from? Are there hordes of young attractive people who burrow themselves underground in winter and show up for sex, drugs and rock and roll in the summer? Is that what those Disney internships are all about?
The Ataris cover of the 1984 hit answers none of these questions, and it also avoids what a good cover song should do - that is, take a song and change its style, message or some other facet to make it your own. For example, the millions of ska/punk covers of 80s songs. Or Authority Zero's (contemporary with The Ataris) cover of "Mexican Radio."
What we get with The Ataris is a straightforward, power pop version of a song that was already a straightforward, power pop piece that is the musical equivalent of a corn dog - battered with sweetness, but unfilling and leaving you with regret.
The Ataris would have been better off covering the Juno First theme song. But maybe I'm just looking into it too closely.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Virtual Dork: South Park Stick of Truth Review
There is a moment, after you've vanquished a member of a rival faction using an arsenal of farts, Cheesy Poofs and magic 8-ball-handed weapons, when you, as the "new kid" in South Park, witness a familiar cast of characters bickering over how to take down their greatest foe.
"Suck my e-e-e-elven dick, Butters," Jimmy Valmer says on the screen in front of you, perfectly framed as only the construction-paper inspired animation of Trey Parker and Matt Stone can be.
It is these moments that elevate South Park: Stick of Truth above a normal licensed game. The script was written by Parker and Stone. The game was made using resources from South Park Studios' animation team. All of the voice actors (including Isaac Hayes in a brief cameo) are here. This looks and sounds exactly like an episode of South Park should.
It's only a pity that, under the hood, Stick of Truth is an exceptionally easy title with little reason for multiple playthroughs. While the South Park fan in you will squeal with joy as you battle Al Gore and try to beat back the flaming farts of Wizard Cartman, the nonsensical ending and shallow gameplay keep Stick of Truth from being a truly great video game, although it's undoubtedly a wonderful narrative experience (with some caveats).
You begin the game as the "new kid," moving in to a home on the same block as series regulars Eric Cartman, Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormack and Kyle Broflovski. You quickly join forces with Butters Stotch, who informs you of the game du jour in the neighborhood. The conceit, a mystical RPG quest with fantastical elements, is drop dead similar to the narrative sheen that ran through last fall's "Black Friday" trilogy on the show. Cartman and Butters are members of the human guild, while Stan and Kyle do battle as knights of the elven faction.
After creating your character, you learn from parents (who share your physical traits) that there is something just not right about you. Unfortunately, what is one of the most interesting and novel story quirks in the game gets dismissed in a trivial and surprisingly uninteresting and unfunny cutscene toward the end of the game featuring an eye-patched, shadowy government figure.
Your journey will take you to all the staple locations in South Park: Skeeter's Bar, Jimbo's Gun shop, City Wok, Tom's Rhinoplasty and the abortion clinic. Throughout the game's roughly 15-hour playtime, you'll run into all the classic characters, who you can "friend" through the game's Facebook system. As you gain friends and experience points, you'll be able to add perks and abilities that increase your powers in turn-based combat that hearkens back to the old days of Chrono Trigger and Final Fantasy.
Unfortunately, that combat is relatively uninspired. While there are some fun elemental quirks to the game that you can use to turn the tide in your favor when the combat screen does appear, most of the fights are winnable using a simple pattern of actions, and because there is no limitation on the amount of items you can carry and stockpiling combat potions is merely an exercise in searching for cash, strategy goes out the window in the second half of the game.
As a thief, I was granted a basically game-breaking ability early on to stun the most powerful enemies while I picked off minions. Using Butters' "Healing Touch" ability, I was able to win almost all fights in the game following a relatively simple pattern once I had a level 10 weapon. Combat becomes a slog to get to the next brilliantly written cutscene.
That is, until the end of the game, when you're forced into a series of battles that increasingly make little sense and the difficulty factor is artificially inflated. Without spoiling the ending, I can say that the final climactic scene can be seen coming from a mile away, something that is relatively unconscionable for a series and writers known to toy with the absurd in pursuit of satire.
Despite my poo-poohing, Stick of Truth is an extremely fun romp through America's finest source of scatological satire. Fans of Matt and Trey's work should not miss the opportunity to visit this quiet little redneck mountain town and relive some of their favorite experiences from the long-running series. However, I would advise against paying the full price. Wait for a discount for your trip to Colorado.
Verdict: 3/5 stars
"Suck my e-e-e-elven dick, Butters," Jimmy Valmer says on the screen in front of you, perfectly framed as only the construction-paper inspired animation of Trey Parker and Matt Stone can be.
It is these moments that elevate South Park: Stick of Truth above a normal licensed game. The script was written by Parker and Stone. The game was made using resources from South Park Studios' animation team. All of the voice actors (including Isaac Hayes in a brief cameo) are here. This looks and sounds exactly like an episode of South Park should.
It's only a pity that, under the hood, Stick of Truth is an exceptionally easy title with little reason for multiple playthroughs. While the South Park fan in you will squeal with joy as you battle Al Gore and try to beat back the flaming farts of Wizard Cartman, the nonsensical ending and shallow gameplay keep Stick of Truth from being a truly great video game, although it's undoubtedly a wonderful narrative experience (with some caveats).
You begin the game as the "new kid," moving in to a home on the same block as series regulars Eric Cartman, Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormack and Kyle Broflovski. You quickly join forces with Butters Stotch, who informs you of the game du jour in the neighborhood. The conceit, a mystical RPG quest with fantastical elements, is drop dead similar to the narrative sheen that ran through last fall's "Black Friday" trilogy on the show. Cartman and Butters are members of the human guild, while Stan and Kyle do battle as knights of the elven faction.
After creating your character, you learn from parents (who share your physical traits) that there is something just not right about you. Unfortunately, what is one of the most interesting and novel story quirks in the game gets dismissed in a trivial and surprisingly uninteresting and unfunny cutscene toward the end of the game featuring an eye-patched, shadowy government figure.
Your journey will take you to all the staple locations in South Park: Skeeter's Bar, Jimbo's Gun shop, City Wok, Tom's Rhinoplasty and the abortion clinic. Throughout the game's roughly 15-hour playtime, you'll run into all the classic characters, who you can "friend" through the game's Facebook system. As you gain friends and experience points, you'll be able to add perks and abilities that increase your powers in turn-based combat that hearkens back to the old days of Chrono Trigger and Final Fantasy.
Unfortunately, that combat is relatively uninspired. While there are some fun elemental quirks to the game that you can use to turn the tide in your favor when the combat screen does appear, most of the fights are winnable using a simple pattern of actions, and because there is no limitation on the amount of items you can carry and stockpiling combat potions is merely an exercise in searching for cash, strategy goes out the window in the second half of the game.
As a thief, I was granted a basically game-breaking ability early on to stun the most powerful enemies while I picked off minions. Using Butters' "Healing Touch" ability, I was able to win almost all fights in the game following a relatively simple pattern once I had a level 10 weapon. Combat becomes a slog to get to the next brilliantly written cutscene.
That is, until the end of the game, when you're forced into a series of battles that increasingly make little sense and the difficulty factor is artificially inflated. Without spoiling the ending, I can say that the final climactic scene can be seen coming from a mile away, something that is relatively unconscionable for a series and writers known to toy with the absurd in pursuit of satire.
Despite my poo-poohing, Stick of Truth is an extremely fun romp through America's finest source of scatological satire. Fans of Matt and Trey's work should not miss the opportunity to visit this quiet little redneck mountain town and relive some of their favorite experiences from the long-running series. However, I would advise against paying the full price. Wait for a discount for your trip to Colorado.
Verdict: 3/5 stars
Sunday, January 12, 2014
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.
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.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Virtual Dork: Bioshock Infinite Review
"The only true voyage of discovery, the only fountain of Eternal Youth, would be not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes, to behold the universe through the eyes of another, of a hundred others, to behold the hundred universes that each of them beholds, that each of them is."
-Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time
Reviewing Bioshock Infinite as a game is more than a little difficult for me. The feeling of not merely playing, but experiencing, the first Bioshock is much stronger in this spiritual sequel. There is a well-polished, brilliantly conceived and balanced shooter at the core of the Bioshock Infinite experience. But to simply dwell upon the game's genius mechanics would be a disservice to the beautiful piece of art (that's right, Roger Ebert, art) that Irrational Games has created.
Infinite begins with a very familiar scene for franchise devotees. You're in a boat, rowing toward a lighthouse. All you know is contained in a box of effects: your name: Booker DeWitt, a pistol, a photograph of a girl, a key and a few handwritten notes. On one of them: Bring us the girl, wipe away the debt. Devilish in its simplicity, the note kicks off a journey into the clouds that mimics the bathysphere spectacle that kicked off the original Bioshock.
From those few opening moments, Infinite becomes an increasingly unnerving exploration of that city — Columbia — and an early 1900s xenophobic patriotism morphed by Christian values that struck me as much more interesting than Andrew Ryan's Ayn Randian utilitarian Rapture. From the opening moments, as you're baptized among cloaked devotees in a brilliantly lit sequence initiating you into the city, to the final revelation of Zachary Comstock's (the zealot and main antagonist — or so it seems — of this installment in the series) perversion of religion to suit his lofty, utopian aims, Booker's journey through Columbia is one with horrifying and unsettling cruelty toward man under the guise of ideology and zealotry that never really lets go.
Your charge, as Booker, is to find Elizabeth, the girl locked in the tower. You do so early in the game, after inadvertently alerting the entire city —which wants to protect Elizabeth — to your presence. This is where the fighting comes in. Not only will you battle citizens of Columbia, who are not intoxicated by powers like they were in Bioshock but rather sane human beings driven by devotion either for or against Comstock, but also giant machine enemies known as Heavies and Elizabeth's protector, a massive mechanical bird controlled by Comstock himself.
The resulting escape mission will take you through many heart-pumping sequences throughout Columbia. Gameplay is cosmetically similar to Bioshock, though the names of the powers and perks have changed. Instead of plasmids, you have vigors, which range from being able to fire a flock of murderous crows from your hands to traditional electric charges and fireballs. I found Bucking Bronco, a new vigor that allows you to throw your enemies into a daze mid-air, extremely effective with conventional weaponry, particularly the shotgun. Once Elizabeth joins your side, you have access to things called "tears," in which she opens up portals to other dimensions to bring offensive and defensive objects into battle.
It's all very familiar territory, despite the changes. The aerial aspects of combat are improved greatly by the presence of a Skyline, a device that allows you to travel around Columbia on steel pathways that crisscross the city. There are also freight hooks throughout that you can attach to with your Sky Hook, granting you access to higher ground for strategic combat situations and secret areas where money, ammo and other secret goodies await. The Sky Hook also enables gruesome melee kills. This is not a game for youngsters.
The difficulty of Bioshock Infinite is also alleviated by Elizabeth's ability to revive you throughout. Once you've beaten the game, the devilishly difficult "1999" mode becomes available, in which respawns are limited and ammo is harder to come by. I haven't had a chance to fire it up yet, but the game ratchets up in difficulty significantly in the second act even on Medium. It will be an interesting challenge that I'm impatiently looking forward to.
All of this discussion of Infinite as a game is extremely difficult for me, though, as I said at the outset of this review. Because, to be perfectly honest, the gameplay isn't what stuck with me. This is a better-than-average shooter with an extremely high amount of polish, don't get me wrong. But the gun and vigor play wasn't what kept me riveted to the screen, it was the relationship between Booker and Elizabeth, and the little clues that something is amiss in the world you're seeing that kept my fingers from powering down the Xbox.
Without giving too much away, the final 20 minutes or so of the "game" will take you back to Rapture and cause you to question your motives throughout. One reviewer noted Infinite has no "Would you kindly?" moment, as the original Bioshock did. But the reason for that is complicated. The existence of multiple realities, and an unreliable narrator who knows just as much as you do, makes that scenario — groundbreaking in videogames just 5 years ago — seem obsolete. By the time the credits roll on Infinite, you'll have realized you were never playing the game you thought you were. And that makes another playthrough seem cheap, despite how fun the game is to play and the promise of missed achievements.
The game, in other words, is secondary to story. Some people will play Infinite simply because it is one of the prettiest and most functional shooters out there. Indeed, the thrill of landing a perfect headshot on a Skyline, then zooming down to light some fools on fire and stick a Sky Hook in their cranium is one that will continuously take your breath away. But the story crafted by Ken Levine and Irrational is something that transcends simply one kind of media, and quite frankly renders the intricate plot of the original Bioshock, which earned universal praise just a few short years ago, obsolete and trite by comparison.
Which is the only real criticism I can come up with for the game — I honestly have no idea how you can top, in terms of storytelling, the final act of Infinite (of course, I thought the same after Andrew Ryan got the golf club to the skull in the first Bioshock). It will make you question why you've become so complacent with video games as a medium. As mature gamers, we should be demanding experiences that challenge us and the traditional roles they play in our lives — escapism, mindless cathartic release and sensory stimulation. Infinite turns all those tropes on their heads, in a brilliant story distilling great works of fiction in all mediums.
Do not miss this experience. And stay for the gameplay.
Rating: 5/5 stars
-Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time
Reviewing Bioshock Infinite as a game is more than a little difficult for me. The feeling of not merely playing, but experiencing, the first Bioshock is much stronger in this spiritual sequel. There is a well-polished, brilliantly conceived and balanced shooter at the core of the Bioshock Infinite experience. But to simply dwell upon the game's genius mechanics would be a disservice to the beautiful piece of art (that's right, Roger Ebert, art) that Irrational Games has created.
Infinite begins with a very familiar scene for franchise devotees. You're in a boat, rowing toward a lighthouse. All you know is contained in a box of effects: your name: Booker DeWitt, a pistol, a photograph of a girl, a key and a few handwritten notes. On one of them: Bring us the girl, wipe away the debt. Devilish in its simplicity, the note kicks off a journey into the clouds that mimics the bathysphere spectacle that kicked off the original Bioshock.
Look familiar?
From those few opening moments, Infinite becomes an increasingly unnerving exploration of that city — Columbia — and an early 1900s xenophobic patriotism morphed by Christian values that struck me as much more interesting than Andrew Ryan's Ayn Randian utilitarian Rapture. From the opening moments, as you're baptized among cloaked devotees in a brilliantly lit sequence initiating you into the city, to the final revelation of Zachary Comstock's (the zealot and main antagonist — or so it seems — of this installment in the series) perversion of religion to suit his lofty, utopian aims, Booker's journey through Columbia is one with horrifying and unsettling cruelty toward man under the guise of ideology and zealotry that never really lets go.
Your charge, as Booker, is to find Elizabeth, the girl locked in the tower. You do so early in the game, after inadvertently alerting the entire city —which wants to protect Elizabeth — to your presence. This is where the fighting comes in. Not only will you battle citizens of Columbia, who are not intoxicated by powers like they were in Bioshock but rather sane human beings driven by devotion either for or against Comstock, but also giant machine enemies known as Heavies and Elizabeth's protector, a massive mechanical bird controlled by Comstock himself.
The resulting escape mission will take you through many heart-pumping sequences throughout Columbia. Gameplay is cosmetically similar to Bioshock, though the names of the powers and perks have changed. Instead of plasmids, you have vigors, which range from being able to fire a flock of murderous crows from your hands to traditional electric charges and fireballs. I found Bucking Bronco, a new vigor that allows you to throw your enemies into a daze mid-air, extremely effective with conventional weaponry, particularly the shotgun. Once Elizabeth joins your side, you have access to things called "tears," in which she opens up portals to other dimensions to bring offensive and defensive objects into battle.
It's all very familiar territory, despite the changes. The aerial aspects of combat are improved greatly by the presence of a Skyline, a device that allows you to travel around Columbia on steel pathways that crisscross the city. There are also freight hooks throughout that you can attach to with your Sky Hook, granting you access to higher ground for strategic combat situations and secret areas where money, ammo and other secret goodies await. The Sky Hook also enables gruesome melee kills. This is not a game for youngsters.
The difficulty of Bioshock Infinite is also alleviated by Elizabeth's ability to revive you throughout. Once you've beaten the game, the devilishly difficult "1999" mode becomes available, in which respawns are limited and ammo is harder to come by. I haven't had a chance to fire it up yet, but the game ratchets up in difficulty significantly in the second act even on Medium. It will be an interesting challenge that I'm impatiently looking forward to.
All of this discussion of Infinite as a game is extremely difficult for me, though, as I said at the outset of this review. Because, to be perfectly honest, the gameplay isn't what stuck with me. This is a better-than-average shooter with an extremely high amount of polish, don't get me wrong. But the gun and vigor play wasn't what kept me riveted to the screen, it was the relationship between Booker and Elizabeth, and the little clues that something is amiss in the world you're seeing that kept my fingers from powering down the Xbox.
Without giving too much away, the final 20 minutes or so of the "game" will take you back to Rapture and cause you to question your motives throughout. One reviewer noted Infinite has no "Would you kindly?" moment, as the original Bioshock did. But the reason for that is complicated. The existence of multiple realities, and an unreliable narrator who knows just as much as you do, makes that scenario — groundbreaking in videogames just 5 years ago — seem obsolete. By the time the credits roll on Infinite, you'll have realized you were never playing the game you thought you were. And that makes another playthrough seem cheap, despite how fun the game is to play and the promise of missed achievements.
The game, in other words, is secondary to story. Some people will play Infinite simply because it is one of the prettiest and most functional shooters out there. Indeed, the thrill of landing a perfect headshot on a Skyline, then zooming down to light some fools on fire and stick a Sky Hook in their cranium is one that will continuously take your breath away. But the story crafted by Ken Levine and Irrational is something that transcends simply one kind of media, and quite frankly renders the intricate plot of the original Bioshock, which earned universal praise just a few short years ago, obsolete and trite by comparison.
Which is the only real criticism I can come up with for the game — I honestly have no idea how you can top, in terms of storytelling, the final act of Infinite (of course, I thought the same after Andrew Ryan got the golf club to the skull in the first Bioshock). It will make you question why you've become so complacent with video games as a medium. As mature gamers, we should be demanding experiences that challenge us and the traditional roles they play in our lives — escapism, mindless cathartic release and sensory stimulation. Infinite turns all those tropes on their heads, in a brilliant story distilling great works of fiction in all mediums.
Do not miss this experience. And stay for the gameplay.
Rating: 5/5 stars
Thursday, December 27, 2012
The best of everything 2012
They've done it.
The New Yorker, in a maddening meta move bound to get your Inception-sense tingling, released a list of the greatest lists on Wednesday. Judging by its placement in Shouts & Murmurs, I'm going to give the magazine the benefit of the doubt and assume this is a wonderfully satirical look at our obsession with creating lists at the end of the year. And not an exercise in forcing my brain to do seven backflips in a row.
Exponentially confounding indices aside, it certainly has been a great year for — well, pretty much everything. I mean, we're still standing here after December 21, so we must've done something right, right? Even though I have several pop culture adventures yet to go on before the clock strikes midnight next Tuesday, I've compiled my favorite things of the past 361 days. Don't go looking under your chair though, Oprah fans. There's no copy of "The Dark Knight Rises" waiting for you.
Favorite news item:
Higgs Boson found
It wasn't the sexiest story of the year. I mean, what could be sexy about a bunch of scientists in a Swiss bunker pursuing the so-called "God particle" by shooting lasers at each other. Actually, that does sound really cool, when you stop to think about it...
What really made the story interesting and my favorite of the year, though, was the attempts by lay journalists to explain what a Higgs boson was. Some failed miserably — and hilariously.
It was also nice to see those billions of dollars actually produce something. Even if it only lasted as long as it takes that impulse of dread to shoot up your spine when you see the bill for the project and the number of countries now in crippling economic straits. But enough of that, this is a best of list!
Favorite read:
"Snow Fall" by the New York Times' John Branch
It's not a story. It's not an infographic. It's not a photo gallery, nor is it a video or a GIS-powered map.
It's all of those things.
The New York Times, as only it can, combines brilliant narrative storytelling with all the bells and whistles the semantic web has to offer, and plops it down for readers, viewers, clickers to enjoy. It's a fascinating piece that is not only interesting in its own right, but shows the direction journalism is likely to go on the semantic web in a way only the most prestigious name in worldwide journalism could pull off.
And audiences responded. More than 3.5 million people have viewed the package as of this writing.
Favorite game:
You Don't Know Jack (Facebook)
There were so many triple-A titles on consoles this year. Black Ops 2. Halo 4. Assassin's Creed 3. Mass Effect 3. New Super Mario Bros. Wii.
And they all got outclassed by a free-to-play, Flash-based game.
You Don't Know Jack has always been a pleasure of mine. I love when the worlds of high and pop culture collide to create a serendipitous mess that questions you whether an item is a piece of Japanese origami or a position in the Kama Sutra. Putting it on Facebook, with new episodes to play every day, was just like sprinkling addictive drugs on a Chicago deep-dish style pizza.
The addition of themed episodes and iPod/Pad functionality only means good things in the coming year.
Favorite sports moment:
Kansas City fans boo Robinson Cano in 2012 Home Run Derby
WAAAAAH!
Here's why Kansas City fans booing Cano was awesome and not classless, as many East Coast-based sportswriters would have you believe:
1. Kansas City fans showed that, even in the midst of another losing season, they still cared about the game of baseball enough to make asses out of themselves on national TV.
2. A Yankee player was subjected to harsh criticism. You know, something they all experience daily from the New York media. Except it was Midwest-flavored.
3. Cano proceeded to go oh-fer after the rousing round of jeering.
Say what you will about the supposed importance of "tact" and "class" in a competition where the goal is to hit a ball over a fence, and that previous champions who were cheered breathlessly were actually steroid-popping cheaters. Watching Cano get what was coming to him was the highlight of an otherwise ho-hum All Star weekend.
Favorite movie:
Moonrise Kingdom
I know, I know. It's really difficult for me to conceive a world where I don't put The Dark Knight Rises or The Avengers at the top of the list. And, likely, 2012 will be remembered as one of the peak years for the comic book renaissance that has been in full gear for the better part of a decade.
But Wes Anderson outclassed every other title released in 2012, with perhaps his most precocious and accessible film to date, populated with a brilliantly familiar ensemble cast, a fairy-tale like visual style, and another hauntingly beautiful soundtrack. Well done, Mr. Anderson. Well done.
Favorite album:
Fun. "Some Nights"
This was perhaps my toughest choice. I really wanted to give it to Mumford's spirited release "Babel," which follows up "Sigh No More" fearlessly with a bevy of tracks that are just as memorable. Ben Folds Five also released a wonderful comeback album, "The Sound of the Life and the Mind," that made it sound like 1998 in my car all over again.
But Fun hit a level of enthusiasm, catchiness, and lyrical genius that just doesn't let go for the entirety of the album. While the tremendously popular "We Are Young" made my mind dizzy by mid-March with its inundation of every popular radio station and PA system in my general vicinity, the quality of the rest of the album more than makes up for being subjected to replay hell.
Favorite show:
"Boardwalk Empire"
While I didn't love the finale, it's clear Boardwalk Empire, after the death of one of its major characters in Season 2, rebounded with a series-defining season over the past three months. Showrunner Terence Winter took Nucky Thompson to places it seemed inconceivable he'd go three years ago when the show premiered. There was an epic weight lent to the events onscreen, and the decision to crucially break with reality in certain instances left the impression the show could pivot in a heartbeat to unexpected and horrifying territory.
2012 also saw the appropriate end of House, a breathtaking freshman effort for The Newsroom, a lackluster calendar year for How I Met Your Mother, the autumn absence of Psych and a slew of...hmm...reality shows. So, let's not overstep the significance of my favoritism toward Boardwalk.
The New Yorker, in a maddening meta move bound to get your Inception-sense tingling, released a list of the greatest lists on Wednesday. Judging by its placement in Shouts & Murmurs, I'm going to give the magazine the benefit of the doubt and assume this is a wonderfully satirical look at our obsession with creating lists at the end of the year. And not an exercise in forcing my brain to do seven backflips in a row.
Exponentially confounding indices aside, it certainly has been a great year for — well, pretty much everything. I mean, we're still standing here after December 21, so we must've done something right, right? Even though I have several pop culture adventures yet to go on before the clock strikes midnight next Tuesday, I've compiled my favorite things of the past 361 days. Don't go looking under your chair though, Oprah fans. There's no copy of "The Dark Knight Rises" waiting for you.
Favorite news item:
Higgs Boson found
It wasn't the sexiest story of the year. I mean, what could be sexy about a bunch of scientists in a Swiss bunker pursuing the so-called "God particle" by shooting lasers at each other. Actually, that does sound really cool, when you stop to think about it...
What really made the story interesting and my favorite of the year, though, was the attempts by lay journalists to explain what a Higgs boson was. Some failed miserably — and hilariously.
It was also nice to see those billions of dollars actually produce something. Even if it only lasted as long as it takes that impulse of dread to shoot up your spine when you see the bill for the project and the number of countries now in crippling economic straits. But enough of that, this is a best of list!
Favorite read:
"Snow Fall" by the New York Times' John Branch
It's not a story. It's not an infographic. It's not a photo gallery, nor is it a video or a GIS-powered map.
It's all of those things.
The New York Times, as only it can, combines brilliant narrative storytelling with all the bells and whistles the semantic web has to offer, and plops it down for readers, viewers, clickers to enjoy. It's a fascinating piece that is not only interesting in its own right, but shows the direction journalism is likely to go on the semantic web in a way only the most prestigious name in worldwide journalism could pull off.
And audiences responded. More than 3.5 million people have viewed the package as of this writing.
Favorite game:
You Don't Know Jack (Facebook)
There were so many triple-A titles on consoles this year. Black Ops 2. Halo 4. Assassin's Creed 3. Mass Effect 3. New Super Mario Bros. Wii.
And they all got outclassed by a free-to-play, Flash-based game.
You Don't Know Jack has always been a pleasure of mine. I love when the worlds of high and pop culture collide to create a serendipitous mess that questions you whether an item is a piece of Japanese origami or a position in the Kama Sutra. Putting it on Facebook, with new episodes to play every day, was just like sprinkling addictive drugs on a Chicago deep-dish style pizza.
The addition of themed episodes and iPod/Pad functionality only means good things in the coming year.
Favorite sports moment:
Kansas City fans boo Robinson Cano in 2012 Home Run Derby
WAAAAAH!
Here's why Kansas City fans booing Cano was awesome and not classless, as many East Coast-based sportswriters would have you believe:
1. Kansas City fans showed that, even in the midst of another losing season, they still cared about the game of baseball enough to make asses out of themselves on national TV.
2. A Yankee player was subjected to harsh criticism. You know, something they all experience daily from the New York media. Except it was Midwest-flavored.
3. Cano proceeded to go oh-fer after the rousing round of jeering.
Say what you will about the supposed importance of "tact" and "class" in a competition where the goal is to hit a ball over a fence, and that previous champions who were cheered breathlessly were actually steroid-popping cheaters. Watching Cano get what was coming to him was the highlight of an otherwise ho-hum All Star weekend.
Favorite movie:
Moonrise Kingdom
I know, I know. It's really difficult for me to conceive a world where I don't put The Dark Knight Rises or The Avengers at the top of the list. And, likely, 2012 will be remembered as one of the peak years for the comic book renaissance that has been in full gear for the better part of a decade.
But Wes Anderson outclassed every other title released in 2012, with perhaps his most precocious and accessible film to date, populated with a brilliantly familiar ensemble cast, a fairy-tale like visual style, and another hauntingly beautiful soundtrack. Well done, Mr. Anderson. Well done.
Favorite album:
Fun. "Some Nights"
This was perhaps my toughest choice. I really wanted to give it to Mumford's spirited release "Babel," which follows up "Sigh No More" fearlessly with a bevy of tracks that are just as memorable. Ben Folds Five also released a wonderful comeback album, "The Sound of the Life and the Mind," that made it sound like 1998 in my car all over again.
But Fun hit a level of enthusiasm, catchiness, and lyrical genius that just doesn't let go for the entirety of the album. While the tremendously popular "We Are Young" made my mind dizzy by mid-March with its inundation of every popular radio station and PA system in my general vicinity, the quality of the rest of the album more than makes up for being subjected to replay hell.
Favorite show:
"Boardwalk Empire"
While I didn't love the finale, it's clear Boardwalk Empire, after the death of one of its major characters in Season 2, rebounded with a series-defining season over the past three months. Showrunner Terence Winter took Nucky Thompson to places it seemed inconceivable he'd go three years ago when the show premiered. There was an epic weight lent to the events onscreen, and the decision to crucially break with reality in certain instances left the impression the show could pivot in a heartbeat to unexpected and horrifying territory.
2012 also saw the appropriate end of House, a breathtaking freshman effort for The Newsroom, a lackluster calendar year for How I Met Your Mother, the autumn absence of Psych and a slew of...hmm...reality shows. So, let's not overstep the significance of my favoritism toward Boardwalk.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Change in the Sofa-Boardwalk Empire, Season 3 and Finale Review
Hmm.
One syllable to sum up my thoughts at the end of last night's third season finale of acclaimed HBO period piece "Boardwalk Empire." In many ways, the third season represented for me the kind of slow-burn, promise-fulfilling sprawling narrative that fulfilled the promise the original trailers and promotional materials established.
In that first episode, so expertly crafted by Martin Scorcese, Jimmy Darmody tells Nucky Thompson, in an oft-quoted line, "You can't be half a gangster. Not anymore."
It wasn't until Season 3, when Nucky's empire is threatened by an outside force rivaling any other in terms of TV villainy, that we were treated to what this statement truly meant. Nucky, after murdering Jimmy, has no qualms about getting his hands dirty. And he gets them very dirty before the season draws to a close.
Count me among the skeptics after Jimmy's death. I thought he was the rock the show needed. Young, troubled and ambitious, Jimmy represented an American spirit that lent a human element to the other senseless killing that took place on-screen.
But Season 3 overcame Jimmy's absence and the series ascended to new heights in terms of storytelling and drama this year. That's why the finale falling flat perturbed me so much.
Several narrative threads were resolved adequately. And the show finally made the full leap into allegory with Nucky's carnation falling to the boardwalk in the final scene. But the writers left several characters in the lurch, and relied too often upon violence to make a point. In a series that has increasingly impressed with its creativity and cleverness, last night's episode felt like a dud.
When the episode did it right, though, it nailed it. Nucky and Eli's conversation over the busted radiator was perhaps the most interesting and sincere scene in a season filled with dynamic onscreen banter. We see a relationship that was in tatters at the beginning of the season — remember Micky picking up Eli at the prison — coalesce into something lasting. "OK, brother," Eli says in the car after Rosetti is put down. It's a moment that typifies their relationship, and shows that Eli has earned back Nucky's trust. It was a major plot point left over from the inner turmoil in Nucky's outfit from last season, and to see it end in that way was powerful.
Another bright spot was drawing the Lasky/Luciano heroin partnership to a close, tying the failed business venture to the intrigue going on between Joe Masseria, Arnold Rothstein and Nucky. Anatol Yusef's (Lasky) face, as Luciano apologizes for screwing up the deal, is priceless. To see him unhinged, then draw it back in when Luciano loses it to Rothstein, solidifies his position as someone to watch in the coming seasons. Especially considering the real Laskey's long and profitable career in graft.
And finally, the political and social intrigue that has categorized this season reached a head. Stephen Root made one final important appearance in a season during which he has shined, revealing Rothstein fell into Nucky's trap by accepting ownership of the Pennsylvanian distillery. When Nucky told Rothstein, after he forsook him, that he would not forget this, you knew it was going to come back to bite even the mighty New York kingpin. It was nice to see, after several episodes of being on the run, Nucky return to his position as, in the words of Eli, "the man with all the angles." We'll have to wait until next season to see how the federal inquiry (and the fact that Masseria's men lie dead in a field in New Jersey) will impact their relationship with Nucky.
The bold narrative statement made in the closing minutes of the episode was also noteworthy, though I'm not sure I can classify it as a strength or a weakness yet. Boardwalk Empire has danced the line between symbolism and historical accuracy in the past. Season 3 brought the issue to a head, blowing up half of the boardwalk and forcing Nucky Thompson toward a much higher profile gangster lifestyle than his real-life counterpart, Nucky Johnson. It reflects the dichotomy showrunner Terence Winter has stated between the "look and feel of the show, which is as accurate as he can make it, and the content of the show, which is fiction."
Because it's fiction, Winter had a strong possibility for catharsis, which was completely destroyed in this episode by the interference of both Gillian and Harrow. For all the fanboy praise of Capone and Harrow's violence (one IGN commenter called Harrow's shootout the greatest few minutes in the history of television), it didn't amount to anything. We knew the side lurked in Harrow. We saw it in previous episodes, and up-close-and-personal in Manny Horvitz's retribution earlier this season. And we've seen Capone kill violently before, including a particularly grisly barroom scene earlier this season.
One syllable to sum up my thoughts at the end of last night's third season finale of acclaimed HBO period piece "Boardwalk Empire." In many ways, the third season represented for me the kind of slow-burn, promise-fulfilling sprawling narrative that fulfilled the promise the original trailers and promotional materials established.
Still gives me goosebumps.
In that first episode, so expertly crafted by Martin Scorcese, Jimmy Darmody tells Nucky Thompson, in an oft-quoted line, "You can't be half a gangster. Not anymore."
It wasn't until Season 3, when Nucky's empire is threatened by an outside force rivaling any other in terms of TV villainy, that we were treated to what this statement truly meant. Nucky, after murdering Jimmy, has no qualms about getting his hands dirty. And he gets them very dirty before the season draws to a close.
Where'd you learn to shoot like that, Nucky?
Count me among the skeptics after Jimmy's death. I thought he was the rock the show needed. Young, troubled and ambitious, Jimmy represented an American spirit that lent a human element to the other senseless killing that took place on-screen.
But Season 3 overcame Jimmy's absence and the series ascended to new heights in terms of storytelling and drama this year. That's why the finale falling flat perturbed me so much.
Several narrative threads were resolved adequately. And the show finally made the full leap into allegory with Nucky's carnation falling to the boardwalk in the final scene. But the writers left several characters in the lurch, and relied too often upon violence to make a point. In a series that has increasingly impressed with its creativity and cleverness, last night's episode felt like a dud.
When the episode did it right, though, it nailed it. Nucky and Eli's conversation over the busted radiator was perhaps the most interesting and sincere scene in a season filled with dynamic onscreen banter. We see a relationship that was in tatters at the beginning of the season — remember Micky picking up Eli at the prison — coalesce into something lasting. "OK, brother," Eli says in the car after Rosetti is put down. It's a moment that typifies their relationship, and shows that Eli has earned back Nucky's trust. It was a major plot point left over from the inner turmoil in Nucky's outfit from last season, and to see it end in that way was powerful.
Another bright spot was drawing the Lasky/Luciano heroin partnership to a close, tying the failed business venture to the intrigue going on between Joe Masseria, Arnold Rothstein and Nucky. Anatol Yusef's (Lasky) face, as Luciano apologizes for screwing up the deal, is priceless. To see him unhinged, then draw it back in when Luciano loses it to Rothstein, solidifies his position as someone to watch in the coming seasons. Especially considering the real Laskey's long and profitable career in graft.
Laskey is not impressed.
And finally, the political and social intrigue that has categorized this season reached a head. Stephen Root made one final important appearance in a season during which he has shined, revealing Rothstein fell into Nucky's trap by accepting ownership of the Pennsylvanian distillery. When Nucky told Rothstein, after he forsook him, that he would not forget this, you knew it was going to come back to bite even the mighty New York kingpin. It was nice to see, after several episodes of being on the run, Nucky return to his position as, in the words of Eli, "the man with all the angles." We'll have to wait until next season to see how the federal inquiry (and the fact that Masseria's men lie dead in a field in New Jersey) will impact their relationship with Nucky.
The bold narrative statement made in the closing minutes of the episode was also noteworthy, though I'm not sure I can classify it as a strength or a weakness yet. Boardwalk Empire has danced the line between symbolism and historical accuracy in the past. Season 3 brought the issue to a head, blowing up half of the boardwalk and forcing Nucky Thompson toward a much higher profile gangster lifestyle than his real-life counterpart, Nucky Johnson. It reflects the dichotomy showrunner Terence Winter has stated between the "look and feel of the show, which is as accurate as he can make it, and the content of the show, which is fiction."
Because it's fiction, Winter had a strong possibility for catharsis, which was completely destroyed in this episode by the interference of both Gillian and Harrow. For all the fanboy praise of Capone and Harrow's violence (one IGN commenter called Harrow's shootout the greatest few minutes in the history of television), it didn't amount to anything. We knew the side lurked in Harrow. We saw it in previous episodes, and up-close-and-personal in Manny Horvitz's retribution earlier this season. And we've seen Capone kill violently before, including a particularly grisly barroom scene earlier this season.
How much is too much?
Harrow's killing spree also sets up the ignominious end for Gyp Rosetti. Not at the hands of Nucky, whose life has been utterly destroyed by Rosetti and his association with Masseria, but a two-bit thug who was peeing himself in a closet. And he kills Rosetti while he's peeing. So ends one of the most interesting TV villains. But even he isn't given the shortest shrift in an underwhelming finale.
That distinction rests with Gillian Darmody, Gretchen Mol has played the character to creepy perfection for three seasons now. It was pretty clear that she was headed for a poetic end. But Winter decides to kill her at the hand of Rosetti, as she attempts to take his life in a manner similar to her real estate plot earlier in the season, itself a perfect example of the layered complexity that all Boardwalk characters have assumed in several seasons of development.
We're treated a wonderful seduction scene in which we finally see some strong, illuminating character development between Gyp and Gillian and their mutual hatred of themselves. All to realize that it's all a sham, with Gillian clandestinely (and poorly, I might add—her reversal of attitudes in his office was worse than a poker tell that she'd made up her mind to kill him to "save" Tommy) plotting to off Rosetti.
We're treated a wonderful seduction scene in which we finally see some strong, illuminating character development between Gyp and Gillian and their mutual hatred of themselves. All to realize that it's all a sham, with Gillian clandestinely (and poorly, I might add—her reversal of attitudes in his office was worse than a poker tell that she'd made up her mind to kill him to "save" Tommy) plotting to off Rosetti.
Not only that, but Winter can't resist one final attempt to drum up sympathy for a psychopath who's abducted her son's child (that may or may not be her own...yeah, I went there. There's no way you can forget that scene from Season 2; it's burned on my retinas). As she lies there, dying, Nucky approaches her during a hallucination of the night the Commodore impregnated her, probably with Jimmy, and thanks him for coming to save her. Well done, Mr. Winter. Don't let us forget that there's not a single character we can universally hate on your entire show.
This wouldn't be too bad if the storytelling were nuanced to reflect this complexity. The finest episodes of Boardwalk (the pilot, last season's aforementioned "Under God's Power She Fluorishes," in which we learn waaaaaay more about Jimmy and Gillian then we ever wanted to know through flashbacks, and this season's flawless "A Man, A Plan..." where we learn of Margaret's pregnancy with Slater's child only after he shows up dead in a box in the Thompson's suite) play with time and space, and give us multiple avenues for interpretation. Not so in this straightforward, 60-minute episode.
It's called a flashback, Mr. Winter. You have done it before, quite successfully.
And it's not even that straightforward. There are holes aplenty. What's happened to Van Alden, arguably the most interesting Boardwalk character of all, after his apprehension? How did Nucky return to power so quickly? How is Margaret dealing with her grief, aside from her visit to the abortionist? How has Chalky's allegiances impacted his family, and the African-American community in New Jersey? And what of the fallout in Washington with Jess Smith dead at his own hand?
This questions are even less important than the overarching question of, where do we go now? The end of Season 2 set up the perfect transition with Nucky assuming the mantle of a true gangster. This is Nucky's story, through and through, and has been since the beginning. But last night, the subsidiary stories overshadowed Nucky's plight. His confrontation of Margaret seemed trite and uninteresting, given her erratic acceptance of some of Nucky's vile ways but shocked hatred when he blurted out his murderous musings after a concussion. She's been just as unfaithful as he, but now seems unwilling to lead a life of more lies and deceit, though she knows she'll be safe that way?
While the carnation falling was significant, it came nowhere near the emotional significance of seeing Nucky put a bullet in Jimmy's head, Jimmy talking him through it all the while. And while it may be unfair to hold up this finale to a pivotal moment in the series' development so far, suffice to say the clear direction the show had after that moment has been tarnished. How much of this becomes a Chicago or New York-centric story? O'Banion's waiting in the wings in Chicago, setting up imminent mass chaos leading to the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre. And we know Rothstein (if history serves correctly) only has a few years left, too. With the news of Dennis Lahane joining Boardwalk's talented team of writers, it seems only likely the fanciful play with history will continue.
Spoiler alert: This didn't happen. Really.
The question after last night I'm left with, is do I care? Where does Nucky's next threat come from? And will it ever approach the brilliance or promise that Season 3 afforded, but could not deliver on?
Verdict: 2/5 stars
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, May 24, 2011
Change in the Sofa-House Season 7 Thoughts
As a rabid, watch-every-episode-more-than-once House fan, I went into Season Seven last fall with a good deal of trepidation. House and Cuddy were finally coming together after six seasons of agonizing foreplay, and I found myself asking the question, do I even care anymore? I had a similar response to the reunion of J.D. and Elliot in Season Eight of Scrubs. The self-referential ridiculousness of the whole fling worked moderately well in "My Happy Place," and at least made it believable that these two could have a romantic relationship in spite of the harm they'd caused each other over the past eight years. "Huddy," as it is reverentially called by those same fans that feel the need to abbreviate every celebrity relationship in order for their short attention spans to come to terms with the dynamic human interaction acted out before them, never attained this level of believability for me. Even during the so-called "happy times" of this season ("Unplanned Parenthood," "Carrot or Stick," the first 50 minutes of "Bombshells"), it never seemed as though the two were going anywhere. This season was ostensibly about House carrying forward the evolution of his character begun throughout the dramatic sixth season ("Broken" remains one of the finest episodes of the series, in my opinion), and I'm not sure he ever did that.
That is to say, until last night's season finale. Checking out the responses across the web this morning, viewers seemed to be split by House's final violent act of the season, either loving the spontaneity and the intrigue his Shawshank-like walk along the beach denoted or deeming it underwhelming in comparison to the shocking final moments of the past few seasons. Put me in the former camp, happy to see House finally acting upon his anger in a real and tangible way rather than the "tricks" and "mind games" he's used to playing (remember, early in the episode, Cuddy practically begs him to act out in a real and human way, which is ultimately what he does) and inflicting pain on someone other than himself. I thought it was brilliant, and in spite of my misgivings about some of the later episodes of the season, I'm actually interested to see where the show goes in its next season premiere.
The other major observation I have is that this show simply cannot stand without 13. She is consistently the most interesting secondary character and the brilliance of the writers in having her survive the recruitment process a few years ago shines through in each episode that unveils just a little bit more of her troubled past. "The Dig" was perhaps the finest example to date of the nuances of both 13 and House's character, and stands with "Two Stories" as two of the finest episodes of an, on-the-whole, moderately disappointing season. The ratings reflect this-House averaged about a 10 rating share this year, down from the 13 average of last season and woefully short of the high 24s it consistently hit in its heyday (Season 3). Masters was an interesting addition to the show, but her schtick wore thin rather quickly and had me breathe a sigh of relief when she was finally written off in favor of 13 again.
If next season truly is the end of House, a couple of things need to happen for the show to leave on the high note its potential in the late 2000s indicated. First, David Shore needs to become more involved in his brain-child again. It's no coincidence that many of the finest episodes of the entire series ("Three Stories," "No Reason," "Alone," and "Broken," among others) are touched in some way by the artistic talent of Shore. Second, if Lisa Edelstein truly isn't returning for the 8th season, the writers need to instigate some kind of new, non-romantic tension between House and the next hospital administrator (or at House's new place of employment, as it seems likely based on the consequences of the season finale). We've had sexual tension for seven years between House and Cuddy. The most interesting foils to House have been men who engage in similar tactical and cerebral ploys to get what they want (David Morse's Detective Tritter and Chi McBride's Edward Vogler come to mind). The writers need to invent some similar conflict for this final season of House in Cuddy's absence.
Finally, the show needs to stick to its formula. In the past couple of seasons, the desire to "break out of the box," so to speak, has taken away the dramatic element of the medical mysteries themselves. Whereas I can find myself remembering diagnoses of patients when I watch reruns of early episodes in syndication, I can honestly say I have no recollection of any of the ailments of the cases from the past two years or so. Such a construction eats away at the whole premise of House in the first place, the modern-day Sherlock Holmes cracking the abnormalities of human physiology every week. Would we want to see the crappy love life of Holmes as a focus in every other publication by Conan Doyle?
This season still had some memorable moments. The revelation of Taub as a multiple-father was perhaps my favorite. But House is going to need to do better than that if it's going to deliver to fans as it fades into the sunset.
That is to say, until last night's season finale. Checking out the responses across the web this morning, viewers seemed to be split by House's final violent act of the season, either loving the spontaneity and the intrigue his Shawshank-like walk along the beach denoted or deeming it underwhelming in comparison to the shocking final moments of the past few seasons. Put me in the former camp, happy to see House finally acting upon his anger in a real and tangible way rather than the "tricks" and "mind games" he's used to playing (remember, early in the episode, Cuddy practically begs him to act out in a real and human way, which is ultimately what he does) and inflicting pain on someone other than himself. I thought it was brilliant, and in spite of my misgivings about some of the later episodes of the season, I'm actually interested to see where the show goes in its next season premiere.
The other major observation I have is that this show simply cannot stand without 13. She is consistently the most interesting secondary character and the brilliance of the writers in having her survive the recruitment process a few years ago shines through in each episode that unveils just a little bit more of her troubled past. "The Dig" was perhaps the finest example to date of the nuances of both 13 and House's character, and stands with "Two Stories" as two of the finest episodes of an, on-the-whole, moderately disappointing season. The ratings reflect this-House averaged about a 10 rating share this year, down from the 13 average of last season and woefully short of the high 24s it consistently hit in its heyday (Season 3). Masters was an interesting addition to the show, but her schtick wore thin rather quickly and had me breathe a sigh of relief when she was finally written off in favor of 13 again.
If next season truly is the end of House, a couple of things need to happen for the show to leave on the high note its potential in the late 2000s indicated. First, David Shore needs to become more involved in his brain-child again. It's no coincidence that many of the finest episodes of the entire series ("Three Stories," "No Reason," "Alone," and "Broken," among others) are touched in some way by the artistic talent of Shore. Second, if Lisa Edelstein truly isn't returning for the 8th season, the writers need to instigate some kind of new, non-romantic tension between House and the next hospital administrator (or at House's new place of employment, as it seems likely based on the consequences of the season finale). We've had sexual tension for seven years between House and Cuddy. The most interesting foils to House have been men who engage in similar tactical and cerebral ploys to get what they want (David Morse's Detective Tritter and Chi McBride's Edward Vogler come to mind). The writers need to invent some similar conflict for this final season of House in Cuddy's absence.
Finally, the show needs to stick to its formula. In the past couple of seasons, the desire to "break out of the box," so to speak, has taken away the dramatic element of the medical mysteries themselves. Whereas I can find myself remembering diagnoses of patients when I watch reruns of early episodes in syndication, I can honestly say I have no recollection of any of the ailments of the cases from the past two years or so. Such a construction eats away at the whole premise of House in the first place, the modern-day Sherlock Holmes cracking the abnormalities of human physiology every week. Would we want to see the crappy love life of Holmes as a focus in every other publication by Conan Doyle?
This season still had some memorable moments. The revelation of Taub as a multiple-father was perhaps my favorite. But House is going to need to do better than that if it's going to deliver to fans as it fades into the sunset.
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