Tag: Reviews (page 7 of 36)

Review: Dragon Age II

I may very well be the last person in the world to review this game. There’s already been a Zero Punctuation on the subject, as well as an Extra Punctuation that everybody should read. Just about everybody from top-tier professionals to amateurs with forum logins have gotten in on the act. My wife recently posted a rather balanced review, so it’s far past time I did the same. Anyway, grab yourself a drink, let’s get started.

Courtesy BioWare
Fenris is way ahead of you.

Instead of picking up where Dragon Age: Origins left off, Dragon Age II actually takes us back in time, to the aftermath of the rout at Ostagar. As the tide of the Blight washes over the little town of Lothering, the Hawke family flees from the oncoming darkspawn. Helping their mother escape is Carver, the headstrong warrior; Bethany, the fearful apostate mage; and you. You are not the savior of Ferelden, a Grey Warden or anything else particular special. You are Hawke, and the game would have you believe your path is not determined, as this story is more personal and less sweeping.

While the story does open up more of the world of Thedas, in the form of Kirkwall and some of the surrounding countryside, it also eliminates many of the features that made Dragon Age: Origins such a daunting, time-consuming and ultimately epic experience. The result is a game that is much shorter, but also lacking in many areas that, given more time, could have been fleshed out and made it an overall better experience.

Courtesy BioWare
Get used to the Wounded Coast. Hey, at least it looks nice.

For one thing, just a little more time in development could have yielded some variations on the caverns, warehouses and basements you have to traipse through for various side quests. Changing the entry points and door locations doesn’t make up for using the same map over and over, nor does BioWare get away with it because they hang lampshades on it. It’s pure laziness, and one of the indications that this game was rushed out the door before it was really ready for play.

I’m not just talking about things like bugs, either. The story needs work, as it’s barely there. You have three strung-together acts with increasingly engaging subject matter. While the framing device works, it still feels like one act has almost nothing to do with the others. On a level, they almost feel interchangeable, with the exception of the very end of the game. While I feel the second and third acts had some decent story points, and characters changing over the years is always good to see, the first act felt particularly shallow and disposable, given the plethora of side-quests one has to engage in to get the appropriate amount of money to undertake the main quest to make even more money. I’d like to think, at least on my first playthrough, that there’s more to Hawke than that.

Courtesy BioWare
He does look good in furs, though.

While I’m still not entirely sure why the proportions of the elves had to be changed so dramatically to differentiate them from humans, most of the art direction in Dragon Age II is very well done. In addition to its looks, there’s also a feel of actual life to Kirkwall. Hearing snippets of conversations from others and being greeted on the street lent the setting of the game a bit of weight and immersion that I appreciated. It gave me one more reason to power through side quests, other than being sick of the copy-pasted maps. I wanted to get back to Kirkwall, wander between its high stone buildings and listen to my party members banter.

One of the true saving graces of the game is its characters. They’re well-rounded and rather deep, as is appropriate for a BioWare game, but they all have very different reasons for supporting and travelling with Hawke. Another good thing is the somewhat simplified combat mechanics, coupled with a vastly improved skill tree system. I was very happy to not have to spend any skill points on Coercion, Herbalism or anything else that took away from my ability to melt faces. I played a mage, as I tend to do, and my skill points should go to magical skills, not potion-making. Speaking of mages, let’s get back to the characters and one of the reasons I feel this game is worthwhile.

Courtesy BioWare
Hawke will stab you in the face, then melt it.

As Dragon Age II carries on, you get to know the characters, develop friendships and even engage in romances. One of the things that the writers never forget is that everybody has disparate motivations for doing what they do. And sometimes, those motivations will test their relationship with the player. I encountered such a moment, right at the very end of the game. I won’t say what happened, but the impact of the event was so great that I had to sit back, take my hands from the controls, stare at the character I considered a friend and weigh my options carefully as I would were I in that actual situation. That moment, that sort of immersion in the moment, making a decision that I felt had weight; that is what I want to take away from a game like Dragon Age II. A lot of what got me to that moment sucked, yes, but in the end, I have to say I felt it was worth the journey.

Stuff I Liked: Replacing the Arcane Warrior spec with new staff designs and mechanics was a neat change, and I liked it. Kirkwall’s a very cool fantasy city. There were some great nods to the previous game along with the usual BioWare shout-outs. Smooth combat and a simplified skill tree system. Neat ‘crafting’ mechanics.
Stuff I Didn’t Like: The copy-pasted environments. The look of elves kept throwing me off. The feeling that just a little more polish could have made the story more coherent. And why is there no isometric view anymore?
Stuff I Loved: The characters, from the main party to the arishok and Flemeth. Getting pulled into the story when it bothered to be there. Hearing my party members banter.

Bottom Line: Dragon Age II was something of a disappointment, as in there were a lot of things that could have been done better. That said, it’s still a decent game with strong characters, smooth combat and enough good story points to balance out the negative, lacking aspects in the rushed design… but only just. I do plan on replaying it, and I’m more than likely going to enjoy those replays, which I guess makes this a game I would recommend. Be prepared, however, not to be entirely blown out of your seat. It isn’t a great game, but neither is it a terrible one.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans

Logo courtesy Netflix. No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/bad_lieutenant.mp3]

In 1992, vocal independent director Abel Ferrara teamed up with Harvey Keitel to make Bad Lieutenant, the story of an abusive and sleazy cop of the NYPD charged with solving the case of a raped nun. While he was self-indulgent, scandalous and even downright cruel, there existed a glimmer of humanity in the man that few rarely saw. I’m talking of the nameless Lieutenant here, not Ferrara. When revolutionary director Werner Herzog picked up the notion of the corrupt cop for Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans, Abel Ferrara loudly and repeatedly declared that everybody involved in it should drop dead, despite the fact that this is neither a remake nor a sequel. It’d be like calling Moonraker a remake of Goldfinger.

Courtesy Millenium Films

The film opens in New Orleans immediately after Hurricane Katrina. The lead character of the title is one Terence McDonagh. He’s a bit of a selfish prick, keen to gamble and quick to dismiss the plight of others, but he’s still a cop in service to the public. Mostly. The events of the hurricane leave him with a back problem that puts him on Vicodin, which in turn leads to a whole slew of harder drugs and a lifestyle that verges on entirely self-destructive. If it weren’t for his work as a homicide detective, he’d unravel faster than a spool of yarn trapped in a spin cycle. But he does have that work, and he is good at it… when he’s not abusing his position to get whatever he wants from whomever he wants, whenever he wants.

This is going to be a divisive film. McDonagh is completely unapologetic in his pursuit of pleasure, intoxication and money. He’s either going to be seen as an unredeemable monster barely kept leashed by his ties to the police department, or the magnificent sort of crazy that just needs to be pointed in the right direction to get dizzying results. New Orleans is the perfect environment for him to fester, given its heady mix of music, magic, sleaze, indulgences and mystery. And I can’t think of an actor better equipped to give this character life than Nicholas Cage.

Courtesy Millenium Films

I’ve previously mentioned my affinity for the man, even when he’s being grossly mishandled. He, too, is a talent that requires a particular touch to get the most out of his manic energy. And McDonagh is just manic on his best days. The rest of the time he’s indulging in one behavior or another that’s going to land him square in an early grave, be it from overdosing or bullets. When they say “cop on the edge,” in the case of McDonagh, they mean it. Only in this case, that edge is the edge of total insanity. Cage projects this extremely well, etching the character of the bad lieutenant firmly in our minds and making his antics as memorable as they are deplorable.

Speaking of “the cop on the edge” in terms of movie cliches, there’s something I noticed as the film’s plot unfolded. There’s a teenager who witnessed the murders in question. McDonagh gets saddled with a dog. His girlfriend’s a hooker with a heart of gold. More and more of these get piled on, until one gets the impression that we’re not just watching a cop movie. We are, in a way, watching every cop movie ever, fed through the drug-stained filter of the bad lieutenant. These little tongue-in-cheek elements mixed with the noir nature of the case and its participants and the insanity of the lead character might have been too much for another director to handle, even the venerable Mr. Ferrara or even Tarantino, but not Werner Herzog. He makes it look easy.

Courtesy Millenium Films

Not only does Herzog mix these elements in just about the perfect balance, he underscores just how strange the world of McDonagh becomes. As quickly as we are made aware of the lead character’s skewed world view, the more adeptly that view is conveyed to us in a way so coherent our own masks of sanity may begin to slip. In most other productions, things like dancing souls or phantom iguana might seem like a totally out-of-nowhere, but here it’s only slightly more strange than some of the other stuff that happens. This is probably the most coherent incoherency you’ll see for quite some time, drive by the most memorable, sadistic and completely bonkers protagonist since American Psycho.

As I said, this is likely to be a divisive film. Some will appreciate the high-wire act Cage and Herzog are performing, others will wonder exactly how McDonagh pulls off some of the things that would make him a good cop if it weren’t for his off-duty habits, and still others will downright hate the thing due to the casual drug use, abusive language, violence, insanity and general sleaze. I feel that, whatever camp you fall into, you should check out Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans via the Netflix Instant service, because I guarantee you, you will not see anything like it any time soon, if ever again. The script is well-plotted, the acting is great on all fronts, the direction is top notch and the overall effect will stick with you long after the credits roll. Granted, you might want a shower to get that filthy stickiness off afterwards, but that’s up to the individual viewer. If nothing else, here is the perfect example of how to get the most out of Nicholas Cage, instead of sticking him in something completely lifeless like Trapped in Paradise. Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans is anything but lifeless. It’s energetic, powerful, completely out of its mind, oblivious to any objections you might raise against it and while you might be wondering whether or not you want to watch it, let me assure you: it’s a bit like the One Ring. It wants to be watched.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Druids

Logo courtesy Netflix. No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/druids.mp3]

There are a great many cautionary tales that carry the message “Be careful what you wish for.” Some of the most potent come from our own history. For example, never allow yourself to be dared to do something you normally do with compensation for free, just ‘for the fun of it.’ It isn’t fun at all when you need to review a movie like Druids.

Courtesy Canal+

The title’s misleading, in a way, as druids only exist peripherally to the historical tale of Gaul warlord and king Vercingetorix. It’s likely that the production companies behind this awful film figured that was too many syllables for large American mouths trying to talk around the processed meat of their Whoppers. Anyway, Vercingetorix united the fractured tribes of Gaul in 52 BC against rising Roman proconsul Gaius Julius Caesar. While other chieftains never managed to get more than a few tribes on their side before another chieftain decided he had bigger balls, Vercingetorix dropped his mighty brass ones on everybody’s faces until they fell in line, and introduced the world to scorched earth warfare. Unfortunately, the tribal leaders remained fractured without his leadership, and when he became beseiged at Alesia and sent out for aid, the aid that came was practically leaderless and faced fortified Roman positions. In the end, Vercingetorix surrendered in person to Caesar, who imprisoned him and later executed the King of the Gauls at his Triumph in 44 BC, just a few steps from the Senate where he would be stabbed to death himself.

As stories go, in and of themselves, that’s a pretty good one. It takes real effort to butcher the narrative into something nearly unwatchable. You begin with your basic Anachronism Stew, which in this case is equal parts middle ages European architecture, horned helmets for the Gauls, period inappropriate armor for the Romans and stirrups on all of the horses. Mix in the facts of the events from a Grade 9 history textbook, write some dialog with the skill and editorial sense of a Final Fantasy fanfic writer, give the actors their direction in the vein of a high school dramatics production, fill the scenes with generic music, and presto! You’ve got a shitty movie.

One of the biggest problems with this movie is that it isn’t sure how best to approach its material. On the one hand, it seems like they’re trying to convey the timbre and timing of the events as they happened before the birth of Christ. On the other, it feels like they’re trying to cast Vercingetorix as the bastard butt-baby of William Wallace and Conan the Barbarian. The involvement of the druids seems to indicate that our hero has a mystical destiny, or at the very least special powers or a magic sword. The way the camera slows down, then speeds up, then slows down again during his ‘training’ certainly point things in that direction. Then again, these shots are so disjointed and crappy I think the director might have been drunk through the entire production.

Courtesy Canal+
Get used to that expression, he wears it the whole film.

There are so many bad production and editorial decisions on display, I don’t even know where to begin. Playing the role of Vercingetorix is Christopher Lambert, who delivers his lines so woodenly I suspect he attends Entmoots with Hayden Christensen and Channing Tatum, which says nothing about a stare so dead it shames any game BioWare’s ever made. Max von Sydow is the archdruid and I kept asking the man what he was doing in this turd. Gone is the cultured gravitas of Leland Gaunt or the mystery of Doctor Kynes or the malevolent glee of Ming the fucking Merciless; hell, this makes me want to watch Judge Dredd again so I can see the man do something at least approaching his level of grandeur. And a robot that tears people’s limbs off, and Rob Schneider in a role where I didn’t completely hate his annoying ass. …What was I talking about? Oh, right, Druids. Or The Gaul. Or Vercingetorix or whatever it’s actually called in its native French. What’s French for “Don’t watch this turd”, I wonder?

That’s another thing. This film was shot in both French and English, but it’s all dubbed. One moment the characters are speaking synced English and the next they’re obviously speaking in French but the words we hear aren’t in that language. Hell, some of the English lines are so badly dubbed while English is being spoken it’s like they didn’t know how to speak any language properly. If it had all been in French with subtitles, at least I could change the emoting in my head to spice up the flat, lifeless dialogue. It’s writing so stilted and ungainly it makes me want to cry. People don’t talk like this, even when you translate French to English. Just ask Luc Besson. Or better yet, go watch The Professional or The Fifth Element. Don’t watch this film.

Courtesy Canal+
“No, Mr. Vercingetorix, I expect you to die.”

On top of the awful writing, the shoddy direction, the abyssmal soundtrack and the unforgivable abuse of pre-BCE French history, there’s the portrayal of Caesar. It’s one thing to portray one of the most influential figures in Roman history as an intelligent, calculating and ultimately ruthless man; it’s quite another to cast him as little more than a Bond villain. And yet here we have him, a noble Italian gentleman of both arms and letters, played by a roly-poly Austrian dude who’s biggest claim to fame is being… well, a Bond villain. The one from Never Say Never Again, in fact, where he plays a video game with Bond. He doesn’t so much display charm and aplomb as much as he oozes the sort of slimy, ambitious arrogance that just makes your skin crawl. I mean, sure, maybe Caesar really was like that but with this guy in the role it makes the Roman Reich feel a hell of a lot like the Third.

And… now that I’ve Godwin‘d this review it’s probably time to end it. I think I’ve made, belabored and overstated my point: Do not watch this film. Watch the HBO/BBC series Rome for a much better take on the history of the period. Watching the aformentioned Besson films for good French action and direction. Hell, go watch Flash Gordon to see Max von Sydow enjoying himself instead of letting the man who’s been dead inside since he stopped being the Highlander kick him in the ass.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

Book Review: Dream Park

Writers need to read almost as much as they need to write. It’s how we discover things we want to do, avoid, improve upon and revisit. It also pays to re-read things we’ve previously read, as life experiences and evolving styles might give us new appreciation for something half-remembered or cast an old favorite in a new light. This, then, is why I grabbed a Kindle copy of Larry Niven and Steven Barnes’ Dream Park.

Summed up in one sentence: it’s a murder mystery that takes place during a LARP which uses a holodeck.

I’m not even joking.

Courtesy Niven & Barnes

Dream Park is the name of perhaps the largest entertainment compound in 2051, a place where holograms blend with real set pieces and highly complex computer mainframes to create full-immersion interactive experiences. The premiere events are the Games, where people assume the roles of heroes catapulted into dangerous, other-worldly situations at the whim of Game Masters who manipulate the complex mechanics of Dream Park the way a D&D Dungeon Master manipulates tiles, miniatures and statistics. The biggest and most ambitious Game yet, the South Seas Treasure Game, is about to begin. Games yield tons of potential revenue beyond the registration of the players due to film, book and other entertainment rights; they’re also the perfect place for a murder to flee. There’s been a death among the Dream Park staff, and the head of security, Alex Griffin, isn’t going to stop at anything to track him or her down… even if it means joining the South Seas Treasure Game itself.

Long before LARPs, computer gaming or even reality entertainment were established as means of escapism, Niven and Barnes gave us an idea of what those sorts of diversions might be like. On top of this foundation is laid the notion of the Game, based in some very quirky mythology with plenty of basis in fact which gives the fantasy within the fantasy added weight. But this wasn’t good enough for the storytellers. A further injection of mystery, a case of double identity and the nature of escapism itself is introduced. Less authors might have found these disparate ideas tripping over one another to be the hallmark of the work, but the elements are blended so carefully that the narrative becomes much like the fictional Park: it’s hard to tell where one part of the narrative ends and another begins. We’re right in the middle of things from start to finish.

Part thriller, part sci-fi romp and part historical fantasy action/adventure seems like an ambitious combination, but what makes Dream Park work isn’t the layers of genre setting, it’s the characters. With depth, dialog and realistic emotion, Niven and Barnes give us a diverse and thoroughly three-dimensional cast. Some that seem stereotypical will surprise in their hidden aspects. It’s these beats, just as much as the monsters and mythology, that keep the reader turning pages.

From the novice in awe of the Park’s complexity to Griffin’s struggle not to become lost in the Game’s immersion, the characters bridge the gap between the more fantastical aspects of the story and our capacity to care about the people involved. It’s a well-paced, well-meaning yarn that’s completely satisfying. It’s not a perfect book, as some of the characters feel rather stock and the depth of some of the central cast make the “redshirts” seem a bit obvious. Still, in terms of works not afraid to blur the lines between genres, you could definitely do worse.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Airplane!

Logo courtesy Netflix. No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/airplane.mp3]

The year was 1980. It was a time when volcanos erupted, disco was dying, empires struck back and an actor became President of the United States. Comedy, satire and parody were nothing new to the people of this time, but when Airplane! premiered, it not only delivered the screwiest of screwball pictures to date, it also defined parody films for years to come, on the basis of being an absolute scream.

Courtesy Kentucky Fried Films

The airplane of the emphatic title is a jet liner traveling from San Francisco to New York, and tragedy lurks in the shadows of the plane. The meals available to the passengers are steak and fish, but the fish has gone bad and will poison several passengers and the entire flight crew. Unable to rely on the automatic pilot, Otto, for landing, stewardess Elaine must turn to a man she’s trying to leave behind, a man haunted by his time in battle, the only pilot left on the plane who can save all their lives: Ted Striker.

Stated so plainly, the plot might not sound like a premise for an absurd comedy. However, it does establish a solid basis for clear-eyed, lantern-jawed actors to deliver their lines with stony earnestness, while something absolutely hysterical is going on in the background. Following hot on the heels of Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles, Airplane! adds celebrity cameos, direct spoofing of disaster movies (Zero Hour! in particular, which this film actually remade) and brick joke setups to the mix. The result is a movie that is smart, well-paced and very, very funny.

Courtesy Kentucky Fried Films
Mr. Bridges would disagree; it’s totally a serious movie. Totally.

The comedy team of Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker (remember them?) first burst into film with this title, and it changed a lot of things. While comedy was nothing new on the silver screen, it classically involved actors with comedic backgrounds almost exclusively. Airplane! broke that mold wide open with some brilliant casting. Peter Graves, Lloyd Bridges, the aforementioned Leslie Neilsen and especially Robert Stack were known primarily for their dramatic or action-oriented roles. It shows in their delivery, the confidence they project and the way in which their presence inhabits the screen, even as we laugh hysterically at the antics unfolding around them.

Much like The Naked Gun and other films that would follow this one, Airplane! relies on audience attention, very rarely calling direct attention to a gag. Which isn’t to say they don’t; Johnny’s bit with the lights is a notable exception. The crux of the comedy lies in the ability of the actors to maintain straight faces, from Robert Hays’ Ted somberly referring to his ‘drinking problem’ to Captain Oveur’s rather odd questions to the young boy who comes up to the cockpit.

Courtesy Kentucky Fried Films
“Joey? Do you like movies about gladiators?”

To say more would surely spoil a great deal of the jokes. And they’re almost all winners, from the presence of NBA legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to the final screen performance of Ethel Merman, from June Cleaver speaking ‘jive’ to a gag Robert Stack pulls that could later be played backwards as a meme reference. It’s packed so full of humor that the disaster movie plot is nearly superfluous. That’s forgivable, however, when the humor is this funny and timeless. The movie might have come out in 1980, but the fact that we can, in 2011, still roll on the floor in reaction to the jokes is a testament to what good writing can do for a comedy. I know what you might be saying: “Surely, this is a glowing recommendation for this movie!”

Spoiler
Yes. It is.

And don’t call me Shirley.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

Older posts Newer posts

© 2024 Blue Ink Alchemy

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑