The Midnight Club franchise is truly one of the biggest players in the street racing/car customization genre, and for good reason. It offers a diverse selection of cars, trucks, as well as a selection of sport bikes and choppers, and many different ways to customize them, including (but not limited to) chopping the top, underglow, lowering the chassis, chrome accents, body kits, rims, tires, hydraulics, etc. More than any other car game, I felt like with MC3 I was able to make my car my own, while others, such as Forza Motorsport or Need for Speed: Most Wanted, felt more limited, with my options mostly settled for me (with the exception of vinyl and paint. However NFS: Carbon had some interesting modification abilities for wheels, albeit cartoon-looking).
Of course, the ability to do stupid crap with your car is not at the heart of any racing game. NFS: Hot Pursuit 2 remains my favorite racing game even though it offered no modifications. Why? Because it has one of the finest and funnest driving experiences of any game. And though MC3 is not quite up to the same standards, it still offers hours of entertainment.
One of the difficulties I found with the gameplay was that my ability to win races depended just as much, if not more, on upgrading my car's performance to the greatest extent possible as my driving ability. I'm happy to say that there are many close races, but this must have left me frustrated at the time; one of my controllers will no longer vibrate properly because of my slamming it against an object whilst playing this game. No doubt, the large amount of traffic in this franchise leads to many collisions, and this can by very annoying. You will rarely feel the freedom of the open road because you'll be too busy dodging crashes. Another difficulty, and one that can also be very frustrating, is the difficulty of navigating the checkpoints. There aren't really racetracks in MC3 but rather series of checkpoints, requiring one to keep one eye on the road and the other on the HUD. For most ordered races these routes are fairly straightforward, but there are also unordered races where one only need reach every checkpoint in any fashion. These can require much trial-and-error to find the best ways to tackle them.
The frustrations aren't enough to keep MC3 from being a great racing game, though. Even with its age, it remains a gem and, in my opinion, is better than more recent next-gen entries in the franchise, such as Midnight Club: Los Angeles. If you want to find some racing on the cheap, MC3: DUB Edition Remix is a good bet.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Movie Review: Ender's Game(2013)
Ender's Game is
my pick for top science fiction film of 2013. Unlike something such
as Star Trek: Into Darkness, it felt like a legitimate
contribution to the genre, exploring themes of war, peace, love, the
military, and child soldiers.
Ender is a boy who is
expelled from school for fighting a bully and kicking him while he
was down. This causes him to be recruited by Colonel Harrison Ford,
who admires Ender's ability to battle strategize; he didn't kick the
bully after the fight was won because he enjoyed it but because he
knew that it would prevent all future fights from happening. This is
relevant to Earth's defense, as an alien species who attacked years
ago appear to be mounting another offensive; they need to be dealt
with in a way that will prevent future danger. And so Ender attends a
military academy in a space station, where very young cadets are
training for military command (apparently the computing power of
youth is seen to outweigh the benefits of experience in terms of
military leadership).
What I found to be the
most interesting theme of Ender's Game was
that of knowing one's enemy (and subsequently coming to love them), which Ender seems to master. He finds
that when he understands his enemies, he also comes to understand
each one of them as another self and their reasons for their self
love. In this way, Ender himself comes to love them. This puts him in
an awkward position when he has to fight his enemies, one that
results in anxiety and regret.
Another
theme, one I find especially relevant to world issues today, is the
idea of preventative war and under what conditions, if any, it can be
justified. How should foreign policy be conducted? Out of fear? With
demonstrations of power? Perhaps with empathy? It is my hope that
stories like Ender's Game
will spark many a discussion of how to think of others as equals who
deserve the same respect. (For example, most Americans would not
stand for a foreign military having a base on US soil, so why is it
hard for them to understand why foreigners might not want US bases in
their neighborhoods?)
As
well, Ender's Game is
entertaining. It is almost like a Harry Potter scenario except where
kids learn battle strategies instead of witchcraft and play an
interesting sport slightly more plausible than quidditch. It is well-paced; no scene seemed out of place and Ender's ability to gain the respect and loyalty of his fellow cadets feels authentic rather than something the script simply dictates happening.
At
no point did Ender's Game feel
cliché or like a rip-off of a story we have heard before. It really
is science fiction at its finest, and it comes highly recommended.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Double the Van Dammage: Double Impact (1991) and Double Team (1997)
I've watched a bunch of Jean-Claude Van Damme films recently. Who knows why. However, these are two of the best. Keep an eye out for more Van Damme double features in the future, because I haven't gotten sick of this guy yet.
Double Impact (1991)
Van Damme really stretches the acting muscles in this one by playing identical twins, separated since childhood because their parents were murdered by hoodlums in Hong Kong. This film firmly sides with nurture over nature, as the two children grow up to be way different: goober Chad runs a martial arts school in LA with his uncle and enjoys wooing the ladies with his small neon shirts, while Alex is a criminal living in Hong Kong, unwittingly working for the man who had his parents killed and going steady with his girlfriend, Danielle. Chad is duped by his uncle into traveling to the island to meet up with his long-lost brother, and from there a lot of weird things happen. Of course, Chad is mistaken for Alex and Alex is mistaken for Chad: such is life, and life is a constant struggle. This creates all manner of conflicts between the brothers and their Triad adversaries, not to mention Danielle, who takes quite a liking to Chad. This leads to two things: one is an absolutely disturbing love scene between Danielle and Chad, and the other is a fight between Chad and Alex, and it's not bad. In fact, Double Impact has more than a few decent fight scenes, including one between Alex and Moon, played by Bolo Yeung (you know him as the big guy in Bloodsport). The dopey comedy gets to be a bit much by the end, but it's a competent Van Damme vehicle with some so-so choreography. Not exactly fine dining, but still, satisfying nonetheless.
Double Team (1997)
This movie is 1997 through and through. It makes no sense at all. In another tale of unlikely partners, Van Damme plays Jack, an assassin, who meets up with an arms dealer, Yaz, played by Dennis Rodman. Yaz supplies Jack with weapons for his final mission. When Jack fails to eliminate the target, he is sent to an island for retired assassins, where they play golf and such. The island is heavily fortified and monitored, but Jack's pretty tough, so he manages to escape after a bit of training, mainly by doing curls with the bathtube tied around his neck. Once he finds his way back to society, Jack teams up with Yaz to rescue his wife, who has been kidnapped by the nefarious Stavros. Putting aside the weirdness of it all for a moment, this film has no sense of a proper dramatic arc. Jack's escape from the failed assassin's retirement home/prison feels like one film, and his quest for revenge against Stavros feels like another. This is not to say that I expect a delicate emotional narrative from a Van Damme movie, but even something as monumentally silly as Double Impact keeps a nice pace and pays everything off at the end. Double Team has so many ideas crammed into 90 minutes that they all get shortchanged as a result. However, Double Team has many redeeming qualities, including: Rodman's outfits, Rodman's dialogue, Van Damme's dialogue, that part where Van Damme spin-kicks a tiger, and product placement so blatant it almost seems subversive*. Van Damme's fight scenes are ruined by the convulsive editing, so I can't recommend Double Team on those grounds, but if you enjoy the absurd, this isn't terrible.
Double Impact (1991)
Van Damme really stretches the acting muscles in this one by playing identical twins, separated since childhood because their parents were murdered by hoodlums in Hong Kong. This film firmly sides with nurture over nature, as the two children grow up to be way different: goober Chad runs a martial arts school in LA with his uncle and enjoys wooing the ladies with his small neon shirts, while Alex is a criminal living in Hong Kong, unwittingly working for the man who had his parents killed and going steady with his girlfriend, Danielle. Chad is duped by his uncle into traveling to the island to meet up with his long-lost brother, and from there a lot of weird things happen. Of course, Chad is mistaken for Alex and Alex is mistaken for Chad: such is life, and life is a constant struggle. This creates all manner of conflicts between the brothers and their Triad adversaries, not to mention Danielle, who takes quite a liking to Chad. This leads to two things: one is an absolutely disturbing love scene between Danielle and Chad, and the other is a fight between Chad and Alex, and it's not bad. In fact, Double Impact has more than a few decent fight scenes, including one between Alex and Moon, played by Bolo Yeung (you know him as the big guy in Bloodsport). The dopey comedy gets to be a bit much by the end, but it's a competent Van Damme vehicle with some so-so choreography. Not exactly fine dining, but still, satisfying nonetheless.
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| *I don't want to spoil this for you. |
This movie is 1997 through and through. It makes no sense at all. In another tale of unlikely partners, Van Damme plays Jack, an assassin, who meets up with an arms dealer, Yaz, played by Dennis Rodman. Yaz supplies Jack with weapons for his final mission. When Jack fails to eliminate the target, he is sent to an island for retired assassins, where they play golf and such. The island is heavily fortified and monitored, but Jack's pretty tough, so he manages to escape after a bit of training, mainly by doing curls with the bathtube tied around his neck. Once he finds his way back to society, Jack teams up with Yaz to rescue his wife, who has been kidnapped by the nefarious Stavros. Putting aside the weirdness of it all for a moment, this film has no sense of a proper dramatic arc. Jack's escape from the failed assassin's retirement home/prison feels like one film, and his quest for revenge against Stavros feels like another. This is not to say that I expect a delicate emotional narrative from a Van Damme movie, but even something as monumentally silly as Double Impact keeps a nice pace and pays everything off at the end. Double Team has so many ideas crammed into 90 minutes that they all get shortchanged as a result. However, Double Team has many redeeming qualities, including: Rodman's outfits, Rodman's dialogue, Van Damme's dialogue, that part where Van Damme spin-kicks a tiger, and product placement so blatant it almost seems subversive*. Van Damme's fight scenes are ruined by the convulsive editing, so I can't recommend Double Team on those grounds, but if you enjoy the absurd, this isn't terrible.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
PS3 Review: Wheelman (2009)
Much like Driv3r on the PS2, Wheelman is an adorably stupid game. Maybe Wheelman isn't stupid so much as it is really weird. It's a fairly typical Grand Theft Auto clone, starring Vin Diesel and set in Barcelona, that has some odd ideas about people and physics. It can often be frustrating and confusing, but once you get used to its peculiarities, Wheelman is kind of a charming game.
Basically, Wheelman is about an undercover agent named Milo working in Spain, tasked with disrupting and eliminating smugglers. He's given free reign by his handlers to infiltrate Barcelona's criminal organizations. While the plot is certainly not complex, it can still be confusing if you have any mind for remembering things. There's just too many poorly defined characters and vague alliances to keep track of, and there's no mechanism in the game for recapping past events, not even something as simple as character bios. However, if you just tune out the story, Wheelman is much more enjoyable.
In Wheelman, you do two things: shoot and drive. Mainly, though, you drive, and sometimes while you drive, you shoot too. For the most part, this driving is handled well. What makes the driving in this game unique is its capacity for combat. Steering is controlled with the left analog, while the right analog is used for fighting off enemy vehicles: for instance, pushing the right analog to the right while driving will result in the car dashing in that direction to ram into a pursuer. This can be done in any direction. When a car's "health" becomes critical after three or more wallops, another one will result in that car exploding in a very pretty fireball. In addition, you come equipped with an "adrenaline" meter on the bottom left corner of the screen that you can fill by driving fast, performing risky stunts and jumps, and so on. While a full adrenaline meter can power a short nitros boost, it can also enable several "focus" shooting techniques, which allow you to shoot out the tires or engine of a pursuer in slo-mo. Altogether, these techniques make Wheelman's car combat surprisingly deep and enjoyable.
Outside of the vehicle, however, combat is rudimentary. It works, but far less spectacularly than the vehicle combat, and without the benefit of being luridly amusing. Milo is difficult to control, either sprinting full-tilt like an idiot or waddling around while crouched behind cover. Aiming is actually far too easy, and in general these sequences are tedious and unchallenging slogs between drives.
Wheelman's graphics are nothing special either. Though the cars look nice, Diesel's cyber-scanned mug is incredibly creepy, and the rogues gallery seems culled from Central Casting's racial caricature cheat sheet. Like the graphics, the music is similarly bland. Yet Wheelman is commendable simply for the sheer weirdness of it all. Wheelman's Barcelona is not the abstract, glitchy playpen of Driv3r, but it's still a digital city with a unique understanding of gravity and law enforcement. Cars careen into each other and off ramps as if on Mars, men fly when ejected from a vehicle, and police respond like rabid dogs to a dislodged street light. There's also a series of side-missions and mini-games that ensure that very few normal things happen. Wheelman is like a Grand Theft Auto arcade game and is particularly suited to those who want the experience of an open world game, but without the fuss of exploration.
Basically, Wheelman is about an undercover agent named Milo working in Spain, tasked with disrupting and eliminating smugglers. He's given free reign by his handlers to infiltrate Barcelona's criminal organizations. While the plot is certainly not complex, it can still be confusing if you have any mind for remembering things. There's just too many poorly defined characters and vague alliances to keep track of, and there's no mechanism in the game for recapping past events, not even something as simple as character bios. However, if you just tune out the story, Wheelman is much more enjoyable.
In Wheelman, you do two things: shoot and drive. Mainly, though, you drive, and sometimes while you drive, you shoot too. For the most part, this driving is handled well. What makes the driving in this game unique is its capacity for combat. Steering is controlled with the left analog, while the right analog is used for fighting off enemy vehicles: for instance, pushing the right analog to the right while driving will result in the car dashing in that direction to ram into a pursuer. This can be done in any direction. When a car's "health" becomes critical after three or more wallops, another one will result in that car exploding in a very pretty fireball. In addition, you come equipped with an "adrenaline" meter on the bottom left corner of the screen that you can fill by driving fast, performing risky stunts and jumps, and so on. While a full adrenaline meter can power a short nitros boost, it can also enable several "focus" shooting techniques, which allow you to shoot out the tires or engine of a pursuer in slo-mo. Altogether, these techniques make Wheelman's car combat surprisingly deep and enjoyable.
Outside of the vehicle, however, combat is rudimentary. It works, but far less spectacularly than the vehicle combat, and without the benefit of being luridly amusing. Milo is difficult to control, either sprinting full-tilt like an idiot or waddling around while crouched behind cover. Aiming is actually far too easy, and in general these sequences are tedious and unchallenging slogs between drives.
Wheelman's graphics are nothing special either. Though the cars look nice, Diesel's cyber-scanned mug is incredibly creepy, and the rogues gallery seems culled from Central Casting's racial caricature cheat sheet. Like the graphics, the music is similarly bland. Yet Wheelman is commendable simply for the sheer weirdness of it all. Wheelman's Barcelona is not the abstract, glitchy playpen of Driv3r, but it's still a digital city with a unique understanding of gravity and law enforcement. Cars careen into each other and off ramps as if on Mars, men fly when ejected from a vehicle, and police respond like rabid dogs to a dislodged street light. There's also a series of side-missions and mini-games that ensure that very few normal things happen. Wheelman is like a Grand Theft Auto arcade game and is particularly suited to those who want the experience of an open world game, but without the fuss of exploration.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Movie Review: Elysium (2013)
This review contains what would ordinarily be called
“spoilers,” but Elysium is so awful that I find it difficult to say that
it could be spoiled. At any rate, I highly recommend that you avoid this movie
anyway.
Nothing in Elysium makes any sense whatsoever. I am not
exaggerating when I say that it seems like a twelve-year-old wrote it. Though
the sci-fi and fantasy genres often require some charity from the audience in
terms of suspending disbelief, Elysium goes too far and becomes
cartoonish. It is set a hundred or so years in the future, where Earth is a
terrible place to live and the wealthy live in a space colony called Elysium,
where “med-bays,” which automatically heal all infirmities of Elysiumites, are
main furniture fixtures in every home. Let's break down what makes this movie
so terrible.
Medical
Implausibility
The characters in this movie recover from injuries in a way
that is truly video game-like, where one only need to not sustain damage for a
bit in order to heal back to perfect health, or it just completely disregards
injuries later in the movie.
Near the beginning of the story, Matt Damon takes a large
dose of radiation and is told that he will live for five more days. He staggers
his way home, only barely making it with the help of a friend. However, after
putting on an exo-suit that increases his strength, he is not healthy enough to
fight robots and multiple heavily-trained commandos, even though we are given
no reason to believe that Matt Damon has the martial ability to do such a thing.
Furthermore, after being stabbed in the belly with a knife, an injury which
likely cut his intestines and bowels, he is healed by a gauze pad and a nap and
the wound is never referenced in the film afterward. This makes the film
cartoonish and difficult to take seriously.
The Flat,
Two-Dimensional Characters
In my review of Atlas Shrugged: Part One, I mentioned
that one of the greatest of its shortcomings was the black-and-white portrayal
of its characters: the protagonists are nearly perfectly virtuous and the bad
guys have no redeeming personality traits. Elysium suffers from the same
problem.
At Matt Damon's factory job, a door gets stuck because of a
shifted pallet and the foreman tells Matt Damon to get in there and fix it or
he'll lose his job. This is when Matt Damon gets hit with radiation. To add
insult to injury, as Matt Damon is being treated by robots, the CEO of the
company expresses his desire to get Matt Damon out of there so he won't have to
go through the expense of replacing the sheets on the treatment table.
Even if we accept the idea that the foreman and CEO can lack
compassion to a hyper-sociopathic level, this behavior isn't consistent with
the movie's own internal logic; if all they cared about were productivity and
making money, forcing workers to do unnecessarily unsafe things (seriously, all
they had to do was find something to prop the door open to make sure it didn't
close or even could have moved the pallet with a stick) is not in their own
interests. Even if the possibility that Matt Damon could file a major lawsuit
against this company (since this is a dystopian story) is taken away, the
factory was closed for the day because of the accident. It is as if the foreman
is too stupid to know that increasing the likelihood of an accident will
decrease productivity or is so sadistic that he doesn't even care. Either option makes the foreman seem
cartoonish and makes for bad story-telling.
Elysium also presents the cliché narrative of the
evil rich keeping the virtuous poor down and is extremely lazy in doing so. It
appears that the audience is expected to simply accept the idea that the rich
citizens of Elysium (who are really never shown in the film except for a
backyard barbecue) somehow are wealthy (presumably at the expense of the poor,
though how this is the case is never shown nor explained) and are, at best,
absolutely indifferent to the plight of the poor citizens of Earth (and, yet
again, this conflicts with the internal logic of the story, for reasons I will
explain later).
It's almost comedic how the irony of this narrative seems to
be completely lost on the creators of Elysium. Matt Damon is one of the
most highly paid actors in the world and is probably acquainted with many
wealthy people. Are all, or even most, of them evil people who care nothing
about others? I also imagine great caution was taken to ensure the safety of
the cast and crew during filming, even ones portraying workplace accidents. Did
no one pause to think how the story they were telling directly contradicted
their own personal experiences?
Major Plot
Elements are Either Left Unexplained or Don't Make Sense
The most major plot element that makes no sense is the
motivations of the citizens of Elysium. The only desire that the film
explicitly shows them as having is to keep Earth citizens out of Elysium. But
what's curious is that the “illegals” who try to make it to Elysium are not
trying to immigrate; they just want to use those med-bays that completely heal
people, as these devices are apparently unavailable on Earth. Thus, it would
seem that the only thing required to keep the Earth people from making the trip
to Elysium is to send some med-bays to Earth.
Indeed, it doesn't even have to be a donation; the rich
people could make profits off of these medical devices by charging only small
fees to use them as they appear essentially costless to use. So, once again,
the characterization of the rich people on Elysium is cartoonish and
incoherent. Since they don't use their med-bays to heal Earth people, even
though they would gain by taking away the incentive to trespass in their houses
to use med-bays and would make make profits, we can only conclude that they
hate the Earth people so much that they make themselves worse off just so they
can make things worse for Earth citizens.
Another unanswered question is why the Earth residents are
poor and those of Elysium are rich. It's strange that a society with robots
that have the sophistication of being able to diagnose and treat illness,
perform policing and parole functions, and be personal servants would not also
have previously unattained levels of material abundance. Inexplicably, the only
legitimate occupation for humans shown in the movie is...manufacturing robots.
[Colin Farrell's job in the remake of Total Recall was also assembling
robots. Does nobody see the laughable and blatantly obvious misallocation of
human capital when they clearly could just have robots make other robots?]
Transportation is also quite advanced, as trips to Elysium can be made in less
than 20 minutes (thus even further cementing the case that a small number of
med-bays on Earth would incentivize medical tourists to stay away from
Elysium). With such technological adcances, it's hard to imagine how such
widespread poverty would exist.
Also unclear is the system of governance, which seems to be
controlled by a central computer program. Elysium's Secretary of Homeland
Security, Jodie Foster, and the CEO of the robot company hatch a plan to
perform a coup, making Jodie the president and giving her the ability to extend
a very long contract with the CEO's company. The program for the coup is placed
in the CEO's brain, but is stolen and put into Matt Damon's noggin, which then
allows Matt Damon and friends to make all Earthlings citizens of Elysium and
send med-bays to Earth (resulting in a poorly thought-out scene, where ships of
robots and med-bays land in impoverished areas with children excitedly
awaiting. Did those kids read the script? How could they possibly know that
ships were coming to heal them?). It seems incredibly short-sighted and frankly
stupid of the government to allow its whole apparatus of power to be vulnerable
to highjacking with a single program. But if the government is controlled by
computer programs, what's the purpose of having a president?
The Idiotic Social
Commentary
I've already covered some of the silliness of the
class-conflict narrative in Elysium, but there are other social issues
that I perceive it to attempt to comment upon: immigration, the provision of
medical care, and wealth redistribution. Of these, immigration is its strongest
point – as far as having relation to reality -
as what it presents does have some remote relevance to the real world.
That is, for example, there are some life-threatening diseases in the
developing world that are either non-existent or mere inconveniences in the
industrialized world, such as malaria or diarrhea. If individuals were free to
move about the world, productivity and human well-being would undoubtedly increase
(some economists estimate that open borders would lead the
gross world product to double).
However, the package deal themes of medical care and wealth
redistribution in the movie have no relevance to reality. In the world of Elysium,
medical care is nearly a non-scarce good, only limited by the number of
med-bays that can be used at one time. Once one uses it, she is completely
healed, and the next person may use it without any resource but time being
expended. These med-bays seem to be available in every home on Elysium
(strangely residing right by sliding glass doors of homes, as if they are used
quite often or are there to be used as displays of wealth, even though everyone
seems to have one), but apparently there are none on Earth. As mentioned
before, one can only conclude that the wealthy in Elysium are so absolutely
heartless that there is not a single philanthropist among them willing to give
away or rent out an essentially non-scarce resource, even if it would benefit
themselves. The narrative tells us that the only way the poor can access this
resource is to take control of the state and force people to share it. The idea
that people can only “share” resources with others is such an absurd and low
view of humanity that it almost seems contradictory that one could
simultaneously hold it and want to save such a race.
Unfortunately, in our world medical care is a scarce good. Elysium
would appear to advocate a single-payer medical care system (or at least
that's how many reviewers interpret it. To me, that seems like a difficult
label to apply. How can one pay for medical care when it is a non-scarce
good?). But, if anything, Elysium's commentary on the subject amounts to
“We think everyone should have access to the best medical care available,” a
vacuous statement if there ever was one. Everybody wants that. How to best
allocate scarce resources is the real question, and Elysium essentially
dodges the question by making medical care a non-scarce resource. Such a
commentary could make sense for something such as intellectual property, which
is essentially costless to reproduce in many cases, but is made artificially
scarce by law. Though medical care is made more scarce by intervention, it is not
the case that it is non-scarce, and therefore Elysium's presentation of it has
no bearing on reality.
What is also interesting is Elysium's presentation of the state, as something that simply needs to be commandeered and it will all of a sudden produce bountiful goodness for mankind. We only need a political messiah, as presented in the following image.
In sum, Elysiumis a hyper-violent action film
containing no logic or relevance to our actual world. Its plot might be
convincing to an eight-year-old, who is far too young for its dystopian
creepiness. In the end, then, it ends up appealing to no one.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Netflix Review: Batman: Year One (2011)
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| Should have been called Jim Gordon: Year One. |
In one scene, a crime boss laments that he had such high hopes for Gordon after being upset at one of Gordon's subordinates for stepping down at a hostage situation when Gordon ordered him to do so. This made no sense at all to me. Why did he care what happened in this hostage situation? What did he have to gain or lose? It's obvious that the writers wanted to express the point that Gordon was undermining the corruption of the police to the chagrin of the commissioner and the cronies, but the actual events that they cite as Gordon's faults don't make any sense. Likewise, at one point cops shoot a disguised Bruce Wayne, who goes unconscious, and they put him in the back of their police cruiser. Stopping here, this could make sense: they shot someone who was unarmed and not threatening them; there were scores of witnesses, but they were mostly in the prostitution industry and did not want to lose their favored position with the police; standard procedure would have been to call an ambulance, but since they put a man who is bleeding out in their own cruiser, I figured they were going to dump his body. But then the writers screw it up by having the cops say, "He might not make it. Oh well, one less mouth for the soup kitchen to feed." So they are trying to save him, but don't call an ambulance? What?
Interestingly, there are no traditional Batman villains in this movie. The enemy, it seems, is the Gotham PD itself (which, to be frank, is more powerful than any other of Batman's enemies). But I can't even talk about this without running into logical problems with the story. The specific people Batman fights are drug traffickers, pimps, and the paid-off police profiting from it. But these (with the exception of the latter) are technically victimless crimes; most of the violence associated with them results from their being conducted in a black market setting. However, if the police are totally in on it, what are the incentives for violence? It becomes more of gray market, as it were. Hence, it doesn't make any sense that street crime is reduced, as is reported on the TV in one scene, when Batman starts to enforce victimless crime laws.
Frustratingly, the real crimes occur near the beginning with the full acceptance of Lt. Gordon. On his first day at work, he meets a GPD detective who commits felony assault against a monk soliciting Gordon (who voices not a peep of displeasure) and then proceeds to batter a teenager and throw him in a dumpster for no reason at all. It is not until Gordon himself is assaulted that he takes any action at all against this detective and therefore spoils any sense of heroism surrounding him (which is too bad since he is voiced by Bryan Cranston. Sorry, but the B.A.-ness of Walter White does not show through here). One could say that this isn't any different from the Jim Gordon of Batman Begins. He said, "I'm no rat." However, one got the sense that Gary Oldman's Jim Gordon would probably meet his end in trying to combat corruption on his own, and therefore kept quiet out of desire for self-preservation. That made sense. However, Bryan Cranston's Jim Gordon was a martial arts practitioner who literally beat up a Green Beret. Thus, the sense we get from Gordon here is that he has the power to help people but chooses not to.
The action scenes also leave much to be desired. An example is when Batman is cornered in a building by a trigger-happy SWAT team that shoots at anything that moves. When they find Batman, they do all they can to light him up. He is able to pick off a few but they eventually get him out in the open and only then do they hold him at gunpoint and approach him. Of course, it is at this time that he summons bats and is able to escape, but it only seems that he does so at the inexplicable mercy of a team of mercenaries that only seconds before shot hundreds of rounds at him. Other scenes seem to try to remind you that you are watching a cartoon, such as when Bruce Wayne is able to climb up to a high roof top by first jumping on a truck, then jumping to a low roof, then working his way to standing on a flag pole by swinging on it like a gymnast, and then finally getting to the top of the building by making a vertical leap that is nearly twice his height. Not to be left at that, he then jumps directly from a city building rooftop to the top of a moving truck. Really?
And, as is the reputation of cartoons, it felt like it was a kids' movie, based on the lack of coherence and physical plausibility. Don't listen to the IGN reviewer who called it "serious, adult entertainment." Sorry, but putting in some hookers and dropping some F-bombs does not an "adult" movie make. Speaking of hookers, did you know Selina Kyle is one? Again, it does not make sense to me that someone who has the physical and martial arts abilities to square off with Bruce Wayne would choose such an occupation.
It is almost amazing that so many problems could be fit into such a short film. This is really too bad because as far as animated movies and series about superheroes go, Batman has usually had some of the better ones. Batman: Year One is not one of them.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Movie Review: Silver Linings Playbook (2012)
I have mixed feelings about Silver Linings Playbook. To be sure, it had several laugh out loud moments that felt more meritorious than the cheap laughs achieved in most modern comedies. But the drama was somewhat confusing, and it could either be the case that the writers created a deep and subtle psychological struggle or they were utterly conventional. The main character, Pat (played by Bradley Cooper), has recently been released from a mental institution to which he was dedicated after committing a violent act towards his wife's lover. His motivation throughout the film is to improve himself and regain the affection of his wife. Along the way he meets a similarly eccentric woman, Katniss (played by Katniss), with whom he agrees to help in her dance contest.
Here is why I say the drama is confusing: from the beginning, Pat's quest to woo his wife seems to be a lost cause, and one can reasonably expect that at some point he will become romantically interested in Katniss. [SPOILER ALERT.] He does, but not explicitly until the very end of the movie. It's as if he realizes what the audience has known the entire movie: he doesn't have a chance of reconciling with his wife, but there's a readily available female right in front of him (who happens to be like 15 years younger, but whatever).
I'm also unsure how I feel about the plot element created by Pat's father (played by Robert De Niro) who is a compulsive gambler and decides to put a high stakes bet upon the dance performance of Pat and Katniss. It is reminiscent of the fact that people place wagers on the outcome of events they otherwise have no interest in. Is it the case that the plot absent the betting lacks an adequate amount of tension that the writers feel that they have to add more by having gambling involved? There is an argument to be made that it is: we all know Pat isn't going to get his wife back (as if his success as a dancer had any bearing on it) and they don't expect to be serious competitors but want to pass a minimum score (stipulated by the bet). So, the jury is still deliberating whether this was a legitimate tactic or a cheap way to create more tension.
Lastly, Chris Tucker once again demonstrates why he deserves an award for best supporting actor. We look forward to his next buddy cop film.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Finest Fights: Gorgeous (1999)
Life has been busy for you pals at Code Redd Net. We apologize for our inattention and promise to be more prolific once the academic busywork winds down. In the meantime, please enjoy this fantastic fight scene from Jackie Chan's Gorgeous. It may not be our favorite Chan film, but this is certainly one of his best scenes.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Now on Tumblr!
Code Redd Net's social media network continues to grow: click on the button below to follow us on our new Tumblr. It's a work in progress right now, but keep an eye on CRN's Tumblr for more frequent updates, musings, and media from Thrasher and Chicken Man.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Finest Fights: CZ12 (2012)
For over two years, Code Redd Net's Finest Fights series has brought you the very best of action cinema available on the web. For real, I mean it, we started this business over two years ago. Finest Fights rolls on this week with a selection from Jackie Chan's latest, and potentially his last, action film.
In limited release today is Jackie Chan's CZ12, aka Chinese Zodiac. Though I haven't seen the version being released to North America, I purchased a copy of the film on DVD from my local Chinatown market. It's not very good. There's about 20 minutes of quality material near the end of the film, but the rest of it is decidedly mediocre. It's not Tuxedo bad, but it's not far off from it either, and at least the Tuxedo was short. CZ12 is overlong, meandering, and childish. This is by far the best scene in the entire film, but it's not nearly enough to save the rest of the film. But I suppose that's what Finest Fights is for: bringing to you the best in action cinema, condensed and filtered for optimum enjoyment. Look for a full review of CZ12 soon.
In limited release today is Jackie Chan's CZ12, aka Chinese Zodiac. Though I haven't seen the version being released to North America, I purchased a copy of the film on DVD from my local Chinatown market. It's not very good. There's about 20 minutes of quality material near the end of the film, but the rest of it is decidedly mediocre. It's not Tuxedo bad, but it's not far off from it either, and at least the Tuxedo was short. CZ12 is overlong, meandering, and childish. This is by far the best scene in the entire film, but it's not nearly enough to save the rest of the film. But I suppose that's what Finest Fights is for: bringing to you the best in action cinema, condensed and filtered for optimum enjoyment. Look for a full review of CZ12 soon.
Friday, October 4, 2013
Jackie Chan in... CZ12 (2012)
Here's the North American release trailer for Jackie Chan's latest film, CZ12 aka Chinese Zodiac. Might be better than The Tuxedo. We'll see.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
PS3 Review: Mirror's Edge (2008)
There's not much else to first-person gaming besides shooting. Outside of a few experiments with the perspective in other genres (including my sentimental favorite, "First Person Football" from ESPN NFL 2K5), it's a technique that has stayed with bullets through thick and thin. While Mirror's Edge may not be a total departure from the FPS model, it's certainly the best first-person action game on PS3 to actively discourage gunfire. Your character doesn't even come equipped with weaponry: you have to pick one up from a disarmed governement thug. Instead, the focus is on parkour techniques, finding creative ways to navigate the urban landscape while outrunning or tracking down corruption.
You play as Faith, a "runner" in an unnamed but thoroughly dystopian city. The city is a bright, gleaming, sterile metropolis, and this facade hides a totalitarian state in total control of supposedly democratic elections. Faith is one of many runners actively working with an underground resistance group to expose the state and free its subjects. Most of this story is told through animated cinematics between missions, though in-game cutscenes occasionally push the plot forward as well. It's a fairly well paced plot, though there is often not enough emphasis placed on the narrative stakes to make actions seem meaningful. As a result, I often felt as though I was merely encountering the next urban jungle gym, not racing against time to rescue Faith's sister, for instance. A voiceover guide helps to stress certain story aspects as you run about the levels, and he is particularly useful in underlining the offscreen urgency of any situation, but it's not enough to sufficiently work in larger narrative consequences.
Thankfully, however, Mirror's Edge makes up for the failings of its story with first-person parkour. The key here is an almost total immersion into the first-person view of Faith, even with in-game cutscenes, as when Faith is thrown off a roof by a former professional wrestler. In terms of presenting this perspective, Mirror's Edge makes a wise choice in completely eliminating any kind of on-screen display of your health, bullets remaining, objectives completed, or direction. You get the impression that you can only rely on your wits and athleticism, though there are ways that the game "cheats" this impression: on the normal difficulty setting, objects leading you through the levels will be colored red (this can be turned off on harder difficulties). Not only is the presentation clutter-free, there is a similar simplicity in terms of controls. Essentially, you rely on your jump button to get through virtually all obstacles, though you also need to maser a few other buttons to slide, roll, and so on. Thus, progression is more about timing, perception, and momentum than acquiring a powerful weapon. Speaking of which, as I alluded to earlier you can go hand-to-hand with your adversaries and fire weapons at them, but the game is designed to make this decision seem generally unwise. Instead, you're actively encouraged to run away from trouble. Running in this sense means navigating crowded urban environments as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, levels in Mirror's Edge are a bit hit-or-miss: many of the rooftop stages are bland in terms of obstacles and design, whereas the interior levels paradoxically provide more freedom in navigation as well as visual variety.
What Mirror's Edge gets right is a sense of movement as well as verticality, and does it better than just about any other game out there. Nothing else I have ever played has equaled the sensation I felt in leaping over a guardrail and onto a moving subway car. Too bad, then, that the game is so short. Thankfully, however, there's a slew of time trials to complete once the main game is over, and the additional difficulty settings add considerable challenge on a second or third pass through the game. Still, despite its short length and substandard storytelling, I can easily recommend the game on the strength of its more visceral moments.
You play as Faith, a "runner" in an unnamed but thoroughly dystopian city. The city is a bright, gleaming, sterile metropolis, and this facade hides a totalitarian state in total control of supposedly democratic elections. Faith is one of many runners actively working with an underground resistance group to expose the state and free its subjects. Most of this story is told through animated cinematics between missions, though in-game cutscenes occasionally push the plot forward as well. It's a fairly well paced plot, though there is often not enough emphasis placed on the narrative stakes to make actions seem meaningful. As a result, I often felt as though I was merely encountering the next urban jungle gym, not racing against time to rescue Faith's sister, for instance. A voiceover guide helps to stress certain story aspects as you run about the levels, and he is particularly useful in underlining the offscreen urgency of any situation, but it's not enough to sufficiently work in larger narrative consequences.
Thankfully, however, Mirror's Edge makes up for the failings of its story with first-person parkour. The key here is an almost total immersion into the first-person view of Faith, even with in-game cutscenes, as when Faith is thrown off a roof by a former professional wrestler. In terms of presenting this perspective, Mirror's Edge makes a wise choice in completely eliminating any kind of on-screen display of your health, bullets remaining, objectives completed, or direction. You get the impression that you can only rely on your wits and athleticism, though there are ways that the game "cheats" this impression: on the normal difficulty setting, objects leading you through the levels will be colored red (this can be turned off on harder difficulties). Not only is the presentation clutter-free, there is a similar simplicity in terms of controls. Essentially, you rely on your jump button to get through virtually all obstacles, though you also need to maser a few other buttons to slide, roll, and so on. Thus, progression is more about timing, perception, and momentum than acquiring a powerful weapon. Speaking of which, as I alluded to earlier you can go hand-to-hand with your adversaries and fire weapons at them, but the game is designed to make this decision seem generally unwise. Instead, you're actively encouraged to run away from trouble. Running in this sense means navigating crowded urban environments as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, levels in Mirror's Edge are a bit hit-or-miss: many of the rooftop stages are bland in terms of obstacles and design, whereas the interior levels paradoxically provide more freedom in navigation as well as visual variety.
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| Any game that lets me recreate a stunt from Who Am I? makes me happy. |
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