Yeah, yeah, I'm aware I only really cover XBox 360 games rather than multi platform titles but I only have one console and I'm not willing to trade organs for a PS3, and I'm not entirely convinced by the Wii's move from button mashing to frantic pointing. These are all based on the preview versions available on XBox Live, and may not reflect the final products entirely.
Anyway, on to the games. First up:
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JERICHO
At first glance, this game looks really rather promising. Clive Barker is involved, as he was with the PC game Undying and that was one of the scariest games ever made. Actually that's about it for first impressions, the rest looks dreadful - yet another game using the Unreal 3 engine, big shoulder armour, bad voice acting (some of the worst since House of the Dead) and enemies that look like Marilyn Manson.
Add to this a nonsensical plot where you play as a dead agent that can transfer his consciousness into the body of one of six super heroes, all of whom are hunting a mysterious creature called First Born. The crux of the game is that you change between characters to deal with whatever the situation at hand is, in a similar fashion to Killer 7. The problem is that the playable characters are all too powerful for the enemies to be scary. When you have a character wearing a Gatling gun as a gauntlet who can also throw fire balls, a repetitive line of medieval zombies running around just doesn't cut the mustard.
The one thing that this generic corridor shooter does is have occasional scripted sequences where you have to fight one of the many undead/demon oppressors off by pressing the buttons in time to defend yourself. These actually add some tension, rather than the rest of the action sequences when the player is safely on the other side of the room shooting away with a psychically guided sniper rifle. Sadly, even these are done better in many other games such as Shenmue and God of War. Whether the overarching story can pull this from the quagmire or mediocrity is yet to be seen, but it isn't looking likely.
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TIME SHIFT
This was actually due out last year, but the developers were strangely given an extra year of development. In which time, they've changed a hell of a lot. Gone is the original steam punk setting, and in is the ruined dystopian look found in every first person shooter these days.
Also gone is the main character, he's now a faceless silent soldier designed to have no personality so it feels like you're in the game. No offence to the development decision there, but if I were faced with a forty foot robot with a missile launcher, I'd just curl up and cry. Seriously. This means that the originally intended personal relationship between the hero and the villain has now been completely removed. Remember, this makes the game more immersive... ahem.
On the plus side, the graphics do look rather splendid, but then again so does the rest of the 360 line up so it doesn't make it stand too far from the crowd.
In fairness to the makers, the game was faintly unplayable when I played the original demo a year ago, but that was mainly due to my PC not being able to handle the third dimension very well. It might not have been that bad originally, but from my own personal experiences, the gameplay itself has jumped on a few thousand steps. The game is incredibly fun, with the time abilities making up most of this, the best being able to stop time, steal a gun, create a wall of bullets then allow time to restart. It'll be interesting to see where this goes in the future...
*Incidentally, I'm aware both of these games are now out, this article was written ages ago just never posted*
François Truffaut once said that "Film lovers are sick people." He may have been on to something.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Film Review: Ratatouille
Remy is a rat. He's a rodent who spends his days sifting through garbage, trying to find something to eat. Whilst this may be a good enough existence for other rats, Remy has had the (mis)fortune of being born with a highly developed sense of smell and has become somewhat picky about what he eats and dreams of one day being able to create food for others. Following an accident which separates him from his family, Remy finds himself in Paris where he assists Linguini, a man with no discernible cooking abilities but who has landed a job at a once prominent Parisian restaurant, giving Remy the opportunity to realise his fevered dreams.
Following the cool critical reception afforded to last year's Cars, and taking into account the problems Ratatouille had in production after original director and writer Jan Pinkava left, anticipation and speculation were very high about Pixar's latest creation, a film which is based on Pixar's most beautifully bonkers concept to date; a rat who wants to be a gourmet chef, despite the fact that, in the words of director Brad Bird, ''a rat is death to a restaurant, [and] a restaurant is death to a rat''. It also deals in rather abstract themes, in particular, what it means to be an artist, the madness and obsession needed to truly create something great. It also doesn't help that the main character is a rat, a species not known for its aesthetic appeal and which, cinematically, has often been consigned to villainous roles. From this, it would seem that the film would be too high-brow and high in fibre to appeal to the young audiences that animated films tend to aimed at, and would be in danger of overloading the audience's palette.
Fortunately, writer-director Bird, who already has two modern classics to his name in the form of The Incredibles and The Iron Giant, took on the reigns after Pinkava's departure and now has a third modern classic to his name, delivering a film which is accessible yet incredibly intelligent, mature but not dour, and which is absolutely stunning to watch whilst also using the possibilities of CG to push artistic boundaries, not merely technical ones.
That's not to say we should discount the technical achievements of the film, no computer animated film has looked as utterly stunning as Ratatouille and it is a veritable buffet of visual splendour from beginning to end (tired of the food metaphors yet?). The film deals ably with both the small details, such as the hairs on the rats, the smallest movements of the characters to convey emotion and, more importantly, creating genuinely appetising food, as well as the bold brushstrokes. Remy's first view of Paris from a rooftop is, quite simply, awe-inspiring and shows that Pixar are true masters of animation. The city is brimming with life as people and cars bustle about and several scenes are given real atmosphere with the addition of fog, just one more of the visual delights on display.
However, let us not be distracted by the increased number of pixels on screen, the real triumph is the direction, which is some of the most dynamic and intricate seen in an animated film for quite some time. The camerawork is fluid and sleek and makes full use of the digital world the animators have created, rather than settling for the static and unimaginative direction found in the splurge of computer animated films that have appeared recently. Bird also tries to use the technology to deal with the more intangible aspects of the film, namely the problem of showing taste on screen. This is dealt with simply but effectively in a number of scenes in which taste is represented using colours and sounds, perfectly illustrating what Remy loves about food and providing a wonderful insight into his character. It's these little touches that add real depth to the film.
It also helps that the film boasts one of best scripts of any Pixar film, one which puts emphasis more on characters and the plot than gags but which does not neglect the humorous side of things, featuring as it does some very funny one liners and moments of sublime physical comedy. This is further bolstered by the cast who all put in great performances, particularly Ian Holm as the villain of the film, a diminutive and diabolical chef by the name of Skinner, and Peter O'Toole as the wonderfully named Anton Ego, a food critic who exudes menace and serves as the driving force behind the film's denouement.
It's difficult to put a finger on what exactly it is that makes Ratatouille so special. It has that indefatigable quality to it that truly wonderful films possess, and as such is difficult to sum up easily. Probably the best way of doing so can be found within the film itself. At one point in the film, a human character tries a dish which Remy has helped prepare and, upon tasting it, they are taken back to a moment when they tasted the same dish as a child. In much the same way, watching Ratatouille takes the viewer back to when they were a child and reminds them of the films they used to watch. In the case of this reviewer, it reminded me about all the classic Disney films I watched repeatedly between the ages of 4 and 12. Ratatouille induces that same sense of wonder and suspension of belief not because the images on screen are so breathtakingly beautiful (though, in case it hasn't been made abundantly clear so far, they really are gorgeous) but through the strength of the script and the story. It's only when the film demands it of us that we acknowledge the fact that the story is ridiculous, and it revels in its own mad exuberance whilst never losing sight of the fact that, at heart, it's a very sweet story about pursuing passions and dreams. With rats.
Whereas Cars felt at times like too much of a technical demo showing how many light-years ahead of the competition Pixar are technically, Ratatouille shows that no one can touch them artistically. It's lovely to look at, yet also has real heart to it, and packs in some great comedic moments whilst trying to tell a story which touches on more mature themes. It’s a film with depth and humour, which also manages to be surreal and absurd and, in short, it's a masterpiece.
Following the cool critical reception afforded to last year's Cars, and taking into account the problems Ratatouille had in production after original director and writer Jan Pinkava left, anticipation and speculation were very high about Pixar's latest creation, a film which is based on Pixar's most beautifully bonkers concept to date; a rat who wants to be a gourmet chef, despite the fact that, in the words of director Brad Bird, ''a rat is death to a restaurant, [and] a restaurant is death to a rat''. It also deals in rather abstract themes, in particular, what it means to be an artist, the madness and obsession needed to truly create something great. It also doesn't help that the main character is a rat, a species not known for its aesthetic appeal and which, cinematically, has often been consigned to villainous roles. From this, it would seem that the film would be too high-brow and high in fibre to appeal to the young audiences that animated films tend to aimed at, and would be in danger of overloading the audience's palette.
Fortunately, writer-director Bird, who already has two modern classics to his name in the form of The Incredibles and The Iron Giant, took on the reigns after Pinkava's departure and now has a third modern classic to his name, delivering a film which is accessible yet incredibly intelligent, mature but not dour, and which is absolutely stunning to watch whilst also using the possibilities of CG to push artistic boundaries, not merely technical ones.
That's not to say we should discount the technical achievements of the film, no computer animated film has looked as utterly stunning as Ratatouille and it is a veritable buffet of visual splendour from beginning to end (tired of the food metaphors yet?). The film deals ably with both the small details, such as the hairs on the rats, the smallest movements of the characters to convey emotion and, more importantly, creating genuinely appetising food, as well as the bold brushstrokes. Remy's first view of Paris from a rooftop is, quite simply, awe-inspiring and shows that Pixar are true masters of animation. The city is brimming with life as people and cars bustle about and several scenes are given real atmosphere with the addition of fog, just one more of the visual delights on display.
However, let us not be distracted by the increased number of pixels on screen, the real triumph is the direction, which is some of the most dynamic and intricate seen in an animated film for quite some time. The camerawork is fluid and sleek and makes full use of the digital world the animators have created, rather than settling for the static and unimaginative direction found in the splurge of computer animated films that have appeared recently. Bird also tries to use the technology to deal with the more intangible aspects of the film, namely the problem of showing taste on screen. This is dealt with simply but effectively in a number of scenes in which taste is represented using colours and sounds, perfectly illustrating what Remy loves about food and providing a wonderful insight into his character. It's these little touches that add real depth to the film.
It also helps that the film boasts one of best scripts of any Pixar film, one which puts emphasis more on characters and the plot than gags but which does not neglect the humorous side of things, featuring as it does some very funny one liners and moments of sublime physical comedy. This is further bolstered by the cast who all put in great performances, particularly Ian Holm as the villain of the film, a diminutive and diabolical chef by the name of Skinner, and Peter O'Toole as the wonderfully named Anton Ego, a food critic who exudes menace and serves as the driving force behind the film's denouement.
It's difficult to put a finger on what exactly it is that makes Ratatouille so special. It has that indefatigable quality to it that truly wonderful films possess, and as such is difficult to sum up easily. Probably the best way of doing so can be found within the film itself. At one point in the film, a human character tries a dish which Remy has helped prepare and, upon tasting it, they are taken back to a moment when they tasted the same dish as a child. In much the same way, watching Ratatouille takes the viewer back to when they were a child and reminds them of the films they used to watch. In the case of this reviewer, it reminded me about all the classic Disney films I watched repeatedly between the ages of 4 and 12. Ratatouille induces that same sense of wonder and suspension of belief not because the images on screen are so breathtakingly beautiful (though, in case it hasn't been made abundantly clear so far, they really are gorgeous) but through the strength of the script and the story. It's only when the film demands it of us that we acknowledge the fact that the story is ridiculous, and it revels in its own mad exuberance whilst never losing sight of the fact that, at heart, it's a very sweet story about pursuing passions and dreams. With rats.
Whereas Cars felt at times like too much of a technical demo showing how many light-years ahead of the competition Pixar are technically, Ratatouille shows that no one can touch them artistically. It's lovely to look at, yet also has real heart to it, and packs in some great comedic moments whilst trying to tell a story which touches on more mature themes. It’s a film with depth and humour, which also manages to be surreal and absurd and, in short, it's a masterpiece.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Ban this sick filth!
This morning, I awoke as I usually do to the dulcet, lugubrious tones of Sir Terry Wogan and his fine radiophonic programme, and decided to lie there listening to it before actually getting up and delving into the daily grind. Whilst I was there, I heard a news report which said that the government are setting up a committee or somesuch to investigate violent videogames and the effects they have on people, if they have any at all. Whilst I am firmly of the mind that videogames don't alter the behaviour of people, though they might influence people who are already of a violent mindset, I do find it strange that the usual suspects (GTA, Manhunt, Hitman etc.) are being wheeled out when there is a game out there which not only features mindless violence but also features, and actively promotes, incest, cannibalism, the use of mood enhancing drugs and unsafe sex.
I speak, of course, of Viva Piñata.
Now, those of you who have played the game, which admittedly isn't that many, will probably think me mad for suggesting such a thing; ''It's a kid's game!'', you decry, ''Where do you get such notions?'', you intone, and ''Witch!'', some of you bellow and I must confess that the innocuous cover used by the game's developers to slip such material into living rooms across the globe is ingenius, a subterfuge worthy of a Bond film. Not a good Bond film, admittedly, but it's a damn sight better than the latter Moore films. However, beneath the veneer of cheery characters, catchy theme song and gardening related fun (itself a cunning joke on the part of the makers, for did not all sin originate from the Garden of Eden?) lies a murky world of death, candy and the most foul depravity.
For those out of the know, Viva Piñata is a game in which the player is given a garden to cultivate, and by doing so they hope to attract animals, or 'Piñata', to the garden where they will live and procreate, allowing the player to progress up the levels, attracting bigger and better piñata until they reach the zenith of gardening. It's thrill a minute stuff, I can tell you.
Even from this short description, you can see where some of the subtext of the game starts to creep in; for the player to progress, they have to breed piñata. This may seem fairly innocuous at first, after all, the foreplay is disguised behind little minigames the player has to complete (though the top-down perspective of these does make some Piñata look disconcertingly similar to scurring sperm) and the actual fornication is represented by fairly tame ''romance dances''. Nevertheless, there is something undeniably sleazy about the whole thing. First off, in order to fulfil the requirements allowing for certain piñata to breed, they often have to feed. With some, this may just mean giving them a bit of fruit, but with most it requires the piñata to be fed other species of piñata, so the player has to effectively order them to kill their fellow inhabitants of the garden in order to reproduce. A potent allegory for American capitalism, perhaps? Maybe, maybe not, but it is by no means the end of the sleaziness.
During the romance minigames themselves, the players have the opportunity to collect coins to bolster their funds. In other words, by forcing two piñatas to have sex, the player makes money, effectively making the player a pimp, and the whole act of romancing piñata an all too thinly veiled version of digital prostitution.
If that wasn't bad enough, the piñata themselves are not picky about who they 'dance' with. Initially the player has to attract two of one kind of piñata to the garden in order to mate them, so their mating options are fairly limited. As things progress and their family grows, though, an altogether more disturbing situation arises. Regardless of shared genetics, the player can breed any two piñata together and they will still produce healthy offspring. Ignoring for just one second this complete disregard for all laws of science, that's just sick! I mean, brothers and sisters, mothers and sons, great-grandparents and great-grandchildren, what kind of sick, twisted world are children being exposed to?! Birmingham?!
Of course, players can avoid this route, and they can always just have the two 'originals' be the sole breeders, leaving them with just the two generations of piñata and no nagging voice at the back of their mind telling them that they are an inhuman monster. However, there's always the chance that one of those parents will die. Maybe they're walking/slithering down the street one day when a Sour Sherbat leaps out and knifes them, leaving them in a pool of their own candy, crying out the name of their lost love; ''Whirlm 2! Whirlm...2...'' before expiring in a puff of smoke and tears. Suddenly, the player is faced with a crisis. They can't just let the family die out, they need those Whirlms to feed other larger piñata (by this point they've already become accustomed, as we all must, to the knowledge that to survive in this world they must grease the wheels with the candy of others and have somehow justified it to themselves so that they can somehow sleep at night) and it's at times like these that one can ill-afford morality. Maybe just breeding two of the second generation together will work, after all, it's only a minor transgression compared to the Oedipal orgy that is their other choice. But therein lies the danger; suddenly they've got three generations instead of two, and they've already crossed a line that they drew in the sand, and the new one doesn't look quite as sturdy at that one, like it could be blown away by the wind, or obscured by an ''accidental'' sweep of the foot...
Before they know it, the garden is over-run with inbred mutants wandering around, fucking everyone that looks like them. Sure, they may look normal on the outside, but on the inside their minds look like the ''Home'' episode of the X-Files playing on an infinite loop.
However, there doesn't have to be such a connection between sex and death, something which most people would consider a bit of a turn-off, because there are always artificial aids available. The player can buy ''romance sweets'' in order to get their piñata in the mood, something which seems slightly more plausible as an aphrodisiac than a radish, but doesn't it also sound a bit wrong? At best it's like viagara for digital rabbits and at worst it's some form of virtual rohypnol. Well, at least Rare got there before Second Life did.
And, reach a high enough level, and the player can buy ''happy sweets'' for their piñata to boost their mood. Great, tell kids that all their problems can be solved by just popping a few ''sweets''. So when a whole generation is lying on the floor, empty tub of happiness lying next to their spasming forms, you can bet a copy of Viva Piñata will be spinning in their 360.
What's even better, though, is that the reason for all this sex and putting cute creatures into a Lithium haze is so that you can get piñata that cool enough and happy enough that they can be sent to a party and, presumedly, be smacked around by fat kids with sticks. And this is one of the goals of the games; a lesson in sado-masochism, painted with primary colours. Admittedly, the piñata don't seem to be as joyous when they return from parties as they are when they leave for them, but that might be because they're so disappointed to return to a world where the master so rarely spanks them that they can't help but be depressed by it all. So they load up on happy sweets, lie down and wait for the next party to begin. It's like the acid house scene with purple horses. Exactly like the acid house scene, then.
And, if all this wasn't good enough, if the player breeds too many piñata they get a pleasant little message saying that their garden is full and that they should ''reduce the population of [their] garden''. Now we've got ethnic cleansing on the agenda as well.
Beyond the sexual dimension, Viva Piñata also has a seemingly harmless way of allowing piñata to die painlessly, but which in itself is actually quite disturbing. When a piñata dies, whether it be by predator, some rotten fruit or the player's boredom driving them to stove the creature's head in with a shovel, they break open and, being piñatas after all, candy falls out. ''Oh, how sweet'' you think, but wait a minute, look at what the rest of the piñata in the garden are doing, they're all looking up, sniffing the air, and walking, no they're running to the scene of the death, all trying to get at that sweet, sweet candy. And it's not just the predators, the deceased's family are coming over, their kids, parents and grandparents are all tucking in and all the while they're smiling as they devour their loved one's innards. These doped up, inbred, masochistic cannibals are what passes for kid's entertainment these days? Bring back Tom and Jerry smoking cigars!
Videogames used to teach lessons, and I'd like to think that I am the man I am today because of what they taught me. Sonic taught me that it's much better to run really fast away from something than to actually confront it, Mario showed a generation that if you jump on someone's head, you will kill them, and Pac-Man is directly responsible for the acceptibility of taking ecstacy in the modern age, and no one can say that these aren't great and just. If Viva Piñata defines the next generation, humanity will be extinct by the year 2100. Except for a few ragtag Sega fans who survive by their wits in a world similar to, but legally distinct from, that of I Am Legend.
So the next time someone says that GTA or Manhunt is corrupting our children, just ask them if they've ever sat down and played on that copy of Viva Piñata their kids sit there all day playing. For all our sakes, pray they act swiftly.
-Viva Piñata is available from all good retailers. And some dodgy ones.
I speak, of course, of Viva Piñata.
Now, those of you who have played the game, which admittedly isn't that many, will probably think me mad for suggesting such a thing; ''It's a kid's game!'', you decry, ''Where do you get such notions?'', you intone, and ''Witch!'', some of you bellow and I must confess that the innocuous cover used by the game's developers to slip such material into living rooms across the globe is ingenius, a subterfuge worthy of a Bond film. Not a good Bond film, admittedly, but it's a damn sight better than the latter Moore films. However, beneath the veneer of cheery characters, catchy theme song and gardening related fun (itself a cunning joke on the part of the makers, for did not all sin originate from the Garden of Eden?) lies a murky world of death, candy and the most foul depravity.
For those out of the know, Viva Piñata is a game in which the player is given a garden to cultivate, and by doing so they hope to attract animals, or 'Piñata', to the garden where they will live and procreate, allowing the player to progress up the levels, attracting bigger and better piñata until they reach the zenith of gardening. It's thrill a minute stuff, I can tell you.
Even from this short description, you can see where some of the subtext of the game starts to creep in; for the player to progress, they have to breed piñata. This may seem fairly innocuous at first, after all, the foreplay is disguised behind little minigames the player has to complete (though the top-down perspective of these does make some Piñata look disconcertingly similar to scurring sperm) and the actual fornication is represented by fairly tame ''romance dances''. Nevertheless, there is something undeniably sleazy about the whole thing. First off, in order to fulfil the requirements allowing for certain piñata to breed, they often have to feed. With some, this may just mean giving them a bit of fruit, but with most it requires the piñata to be fed other species of piñata, so the player has to effectively order them to kill their fellow inhabitants of the garden in order to reproduce. A potent allegory for American capitalism, perhaps? Maybe, maybe not, but it is by no means the end of the sleaziness.
During the romance minigames themselves, the players have the opportunity to collect coins to bolster their funds. In other words, by forcing two piñatas to have sex, the player makes money, effectively making the player a pimp, and the whole act of romancing piñata an all too thinly veiled version of digital prostitution.
If that wasn't bad enough, the piñata themselves are not picky about who they 'dance' with. Initially the player has to attract two of one kind of piñata to the garden in order to mate them, so their mating options are fairly limited. As things progress and their family grows, though, an altogether more disturbing situation arises. Regardless of shared genetics, the player can breed any two piñata together and they will still produce healthy offspring. Ignoring for just one second this complete disregard for all laws of science, that's just sick! I mean, brothers and sisters, mothers and sons, great-grandparents and great-grandchildren, what kind of sick, twisted world are children being exposed to?! Birmingham?!
Of course, players can avoid this route, and they can always just have the two 'originals' be the sole breeders, leaving them with just the two generations of piñata and no nagging voice at the back of their mind telling them that they are an inhuman monster. However, there's always the chance that one of those parents will die. Maybe they're walking/slithering down the street one day when a Sour Sherbat leaps out and knifes them, leaving them in a pool of their own candy, crying out the name of their lost love; ''Whirlm 2! Whirlm...2...'' before expiring in a puff of smoke and tears. Suddenly, the player is faced with a crisis. They can't just let the family die out, they need those Whirlms to feed other larger piñata (by this point they've already become accustomed, as we all must, to the knowledge that to survive in this world they must grease the wheels with the candy of others and have somehow justified it to themselves so that they can somehow sleep at night) and it's at times like these that one can ill-afford morality. Maybe just breeding two of the second generation together will work, after all, it's only a minor transgression compared to the Oedipal orgy that is their other choice. But therein lies the danger; suddenly they've got three generations instead of two, and they've already crossed a line that they drew in the sand, and the new one doesn't look quite as sturdy at that one, like it could be blown away by the wind, or obscured by an ''accidental'' sweep of the foot...
Before they know it, the garden is over-run with inbred mutants wandering around, fucking everyone that looks like them. Sure, they may look normal on the outside, but on the inside their minds look like the ''Home'' episode of the X-Files playing on an infinite loop.
However, there doesn't have to be such a connection between sex and death, something which most people would consider a bit of a turn-off, because there are always artificial aids available. The player can buy ''romance sweets'' in order to get their piñata in the mood, something which seems slightly more plausible as an aphrodisiac than a radish, but doesn't it also sound a bit wrong? At best it's like viagara for digital rabbits and at worst it's some form of virtual rohypnol. Well, at least Rare got there before Second Life did.
And, reach a high enough level, and the player can buy ''happy sweets'' for their piñata to boost their mood. Great, tell kids that all their problems can be solved by just popping a few ''sweets''. So when a whole generation is lying on the floor, empty tub of happiness lying next to their spasming forms, you can bet a copy of Viva Piñata will be spinning in their 360.
What's even better, though, is that the reason for all this sex and putting cute creatures into a Lithium haze is so that you can get piñata that cool enough and happy enough that they can be sent to a party and, presumedly, be smacked around by fat kids with sticks. And this is one of the goals of the games; a lesson in sado-masochism, painted with primary colours. Admittedly, the piñata don't seem to be as joyous when they return from parties as they are when they leave for them, but that might be because they're so disappointed to return to a world where the master so rarely spanks them that they can't help but be depressed by it all. So they load up on happy sweets, lie down and wait for the next party to begin. It's like the acid house scene with purple horses. Exactly like the acid house scene, then.
And, if all this wasn't good enough, if the player breeds too many piñata they get a pleasant little message saying that their garden is full and that they should ''reduce the population of [their] garden''. Now we've got ethnic cleansing on the agenda as well.
Beyond the sexual dimension, Viva Piñata also has a seemingly harmless way of allowing piñata to die painlessly, but which in itself is actually quite disturbing. When a piñata dies, whether it be by predator, some rotten fruit or the player's boredom driving them to stove the creature's head in with a shovel, they break open and, being piñatas after all, candy falls out. ''Oh, how sweet'' you think, but wait a minute, look at what the rest of the piñata in the garden are doing, they're all looking up, sniffing the air, and walking, no they're running to the scene of the death, all trying to get at that sweet, sweet candy. And it's not just the predators, the deceased's family are coming over, their kids, parents and grandparents are all tucking in and all the while they're smiling as they devour their loved one's innards. These doped up, inbred, masochistic cannibals are what passes for kid's entertainment these days? Bring back Tom and Jerry smoking cigars!
Videogames used to teach lessons, and I'd like to think that I am the man I am today because of what they taught me. Sonic taught me that it's much better to run really fast away from something than to actually confront it, Mario showed a generation that if you jump on someone's head, you will kill them, and Pac-Man is directly responsible for the acceptibility of taking ecstacy in the modern age, and no one can say that these aren't great and just. If Viva Piñata defines the next generation, humanity will be extinct by the year 2100. Except for a few ragtag Sega fans who survive by their wits in a world similar to, but legally distinct from, that of I Am Legend.
So the next time someone says that GTA or Manhunt is corrupting our children, just ask them if they've ever sat down and played on that copy of Viva Piñata their kids sit there all day playing. For all our sakes, pray they act swiftly.
-Viva Piñata is available from all good retailers. And some dodgy ones.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Film Review: Stardust
In the town of Wall, which borders the fantasy realm of Stormhold, young Tristan Thorn (Charlie Cox) is trying in vain to woo Victoria (Sienna Miller), the love of his life. Elsewhere, the king of Stormhold (Peter O'Toole), seeing that his sons have failed to kill each other off to determine succession, as is the family tradition, sets his remaining progeny the task of retrieving the family necklace to decide who shall be king. The necklace attaches itself to a star, dragging it down to Earth, where Tristan sees it and vows to Victoria that he will bring her the star if she will marry him. True love never runs smoothly, though, as upon impact the star transformed into a girl named Yvain (Claire Danes), and a witch (Michelle Pfeiffer) is also out to get her.
This may all sound like a load of dull, fantasy nonsense, and it would be if Stardust took itself even the slightest bit seriously. Based on Neil Gaiman's novel of the same name, which is an homage to pre-Tolkien fantasy and fairytales, the film version takes the impish sense of humour present in Gaiman's book and transfers it beautifully to the screen, serving up a film which is not only thrilling, but also very funny.
Now, any film that attempts to meld fairytales and comedy, and particularly any that throw a fair bit of swashbuckling into the mix, is bound to draw comparisons to Rob Reiner's masterpiece, The Princess Bride. Usually, I'd try to avoid such a comparison since its incredibly unfair to compare any film to one so beloved, but since director Matthew Vaughn has gone out of his way to emphasise the influence of that film on his in every interview he has given for the film, as well as casting someone who so closely resembles Cery Elwes in one of the roles that I'm not entirely certain they haven't just digitally added in old Princess Bride footage, it seems that it's unavoidable. Much like The Princess Bride, Vaughn sets out from the beginning to ground the comedy within the parameters of a specific cinematic style; whilst The Princess Bride took its cue from Errol Flynn, Stardust takes its cue from Peter Jackson. However, rather than attempt to parody Lord of the Rings or its imitators, Vaughn merely uses the techniques and visuals of those films to stage his own story, even in going so far as to have Sir Ian McKellan narrate the opening and closing sequences of the film. In this regard, Vaughn is very successful: the film looks spectacular. A few bits of dodgy CGI here and there aside, the film has a grandeur that belies its modest budget, with beautiful landscapes and, in Stormhold, a splendidly realised magical world.
The cast are also up for a bit of fun, all of whom play the roles straight but with a slyness to them that adds to the humour of the film. Michelle Pfeiffer is superb as the witch, playing her with just the right balance of maliciousness and real human concerns, particularly vanity. That she can go from charming to vicious and genuinely menacing in an instance is a real testament to her abilities, and she makes a fine villain. Charlie Cox and Claire Danes are also very good as the main protagonists, making an adorable pair who the audience can really care for and the relationship that develops between them over the course of the film is very sweet and grows organically.
The undisputed star of the film, though, is Robert De Niro as Captain Shakespeare, a sky pirate who helps Tristan and Yvain. Shakespeare is a man of two contrasting sides; for the public, he is a vicious killer with a reputation as one of the toughest men on, or rather above, Earth. In private, he is a sensitive sole who has to put on the facade of a murderer to make it in his line of work. De Niro is a comic genius in the film, with the unrestrained energy of Robin Williams before he became an unfunny wreck, and his scenes are an absolute joy. The film pushes it a little bit too far, but not so much as to completely ruin the character.
The only real weak spot, in a film that boasts fine cameos from the likes of Adam Buxton, Mark Williams, Mark Heap and David Walliams in supporting roles, is Ricky Gervais, who does a rather lazy rendition of his usual schtick as a trader named Ferdie the Fence and whilst he is funny, he's not particularly good. Especially since he has to play his scenes opposite De Niro and Pfeiffer, the strongest performers in the whole film, making him seem rather lost.
As with any good adaptation, Stardust remains largely faithful to the original whilst also taking a fair few liberties. In this case, the liberties manifest themselves in the creation of Shakespeare and Ferdie, as well as beefing up the ending of the film. I personally think this is a great boon to the film since, as much as I love his work, Gaiman's books tend to have anti-climactic endings and the new one is huge, thrilling and unpredictable.
The unpredictability of Stardust as a whole is perhaps its greatest asset. A lot of reviews have criticised it for not knowing what it wants to be, a comedy, a fantasy, a scary film etc, but i would argue that it knows precisely what it wants to be; a kids film that the film-makers would have wanted to see as children. That's why, for all its jokes and thrills, it also features no less than seven eviscerations, of both humans and animals, a major plot point revolving around the removal of a character's heart, and an underlying sexual tension to it all. Vaughn and his co-screenwriter Jane Goldman know that kids want to be scared when they see films, and it is the mix of whimsy and sheer terror common to all great fairytales that runs throughout Stardust, raising the film as a whole up a notch in terms of quality.
However, for all its charms, Stardust's first half an hour is a real drag. As the brief plot summary above might indicate, there's an awful lot to explain and three separate plot strands to set in motion, and the need to get this out of the way unbalances the pace of the film. Thankfully, things pick up, and the rest of the film is terrific fun and has a real sense of wonder about it all.
It's not quite The Princess Bride, but Stardust is a fine film. Matthew Vaughn and his cast have created a story that is epic, sarcastic, fantastical and thrilling. Most importantly, they've made a film that is just so enjoyable to watch. It may not be great, but it is great fun.
This may all sound like a load of dull, fantasy nonsense, and it would be if Stardust took itself even the slightest bit seriously. Based on Neil Gaiman's novel of the same name, which is an homage to pre-Tolkien fantasy and fairytales, the film version takes the impish sense of humour present in Gaiman's book and transfers it beautifully to the screen, serving up a film which is not only thrilling, but also very funny.
Now, any film that attempts to meld fairytales and comedy, and particularly any that throw a fair bit of swashbuckling into the mix, is bound to draw comparisons to Rob Reiner's masterpiece, The Princess Bride. Usually, I'd try to avoid such a comparison since its incredibly unfair to compare any film to one so beloved, but since director Matthew Vaughn has gone out of his way to emphasise the influence of that film on his in every interview he has given for the film, as well as casting someone who so closely resembles Cery Elwes in one of the roles that I'm not entirely certain they haven't just digitally added in old Princess Bride footage, it seems that it's unavoidable. Much like The Princess Bride, Vaughn sets out from the beginning to ground the comedy within the parameters of a specific cinematic style; whilst The Princess Bride took its cue from Errol Flynn, Stardust takes its cue from Peter Jackson. However, rather than attempt to parody Lord of the Rings or its imitators, Vaughn merely uses the techniques and visuals of those films to stage his own story, even in going so far as to have Sir Ian McKellan narrate the opening and closing sequences of the film. In this regard, Vaughn is very successful: the film looks spectacular. A few bits of dodgy CGI here and there aside, the film has a grandeur that belies its modest budget, with beautiful landscapes and, in Stormhold, a splendidly realised magical world.
The cast are also up for a bit of fun, all of whom play the roles straight but with a slyness to them that adds to the humour of the film. Michelle Pfeiffer is superb as the witch, playing her with just the right balance of maliciousness and real human concerns, particularly vanity. That she can go from charming to vicious and genuinely menacing in an instance is a real testament to her abilities, and she makes a fine villain. Charlie Cox and Claire Danes are also very good as the main protagonists, making an adorable pair who the audience can really care for and the relationship that develops between them over the course of the film is very sweet and grows organically.
The undisputed star of the film, though, is Robert De Niro as Captain Shakespeare, a sky pirate who helps Tristan and Yvain. Shakespeare is a man of two contrasting sides; for the public, he is a vicious killer with a reputation as one of the toughest men on, or rather above, Earth. In private, he is a sensitive sole who has to put on the facade of a murderer to make it in his line of work. De Niro is a comic genius in the film, with the unrestrained energy of Robin Williams before he became an unfunny wreck, and his scenes are an absolute joy. The film pushes it a little bit too far, but not so much as to completely ruin the character.
The only real weak spot, in a film that boasts fine cameos from the likes of Adam Buxton, Mark Williams, Mark Heap and David Walliams in supporting roles, is Ricky Gervais, who does a rather lazy rendition of his usual schtick as a trader named Ferdie the Fence and whilst he is funny, he's not particularly good. Especially since he has to play his scenes opposite De Niro and Pfeiffer, the strongest performers in the whole film, making him seem rather lost.
As with any good adaptation, Stardust remains largely faithful to the original whilst also taking a fair few liberties. In this case, the liberties manifest themselves in the creation of Shakespeare and Ferdie, as well as beefing up the ending of the film. I personally think this is a great boon to the film since, as much as I love his work, Gaiman's books tend to have anti-climactic endings and the new one is huge, thrilling and unpredictable.
The unpredictability of Stardust as a whole is perhaps its greatest asset. A lot of reviews have criticised it for not knowing what it wants to be, a comedy, a fantasy, a scary film etc, but i would argue that it knows precisely what it wants to be; a kids film that the film-makers would have wanted to see as children. That's why, for all its jokes and thrills, it also features no less than seven eviscerations, of both humans and animals, a major plot point revolving around the removal of a character's heart, and an underlying sexual tension to it all. Vaughn and his co-screenwriter Jane Goldman know that kids want to be scared when they see films, and it is the mix of whimsy and sheer terror common to all great fairytales that runs throughout Stardust, raising the film as a whole up a notch in terms of quality.
However, for all its charms, Stardust's first half an hour is a real drag. As the brief plot summary above might indicate, there's an awful lot to explain and three separate plot strands to set in motion, and the need to get this out of the way unbalances the pace of the film. Thankfully, things pick up, and the rest of the film is terrific fun and has a real sense of wonder about it all.
It's not quite The Princess Bride, but Stardust is a fine film. Matthew Vaughn and his cast have created a story that is epic, sarcastic, fantastical and thrilling. Most importantly, they've made a film that is just so enjoyable to watch. It may not be great, but it is great fun.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Halo 3
Halo 3 is not original. Don’t expect a revelation here, most of the ideas are brought forward from earlier entries to the series, and even then they wore their influences on their sleeves (see Iain M Banks’ “Consider Phleibas” for more Ringworld based fun). It’s also not a long game, with the single player game clocking in at around seven hours on easier difficulty levels. However, it is one of the most refined first person shooters ever to hit the Xbox 360. Though, with this being Microsoft’s flagship franchise, this should really be expected.
Halo 3 follows on directly from Halo 2, as one would expect, resuming mankind’s (more specifically, the ever present Master Chief’s) war against the religious alien collective, the Covenant. Though the plot is nothing special, it does push the game forward with a nice sense of pace- something many games actually manage to fail with. The only real problem with the story-telling is the Playstation One-esque flashbacks involving the character “Cortana”, which seem horribly dated for a game with such high production values.
Graphically, many people have complained that it’s not as detailed as the recent “Bioshock”, and they’d be right. But Bioshock was all about small rooms and smaller corridors, and that’s not what Bungie have gone for. This is a full on wide-screen epic, with hundreds of events all occurring on screen at once across huge landscapes. There are nice touches to the detail though, the plants move when touched and though the metallic shine is still very bright, it adds a great sense of style.
The AI handles the myriad of enemies amazingly well, as they take cover, regroup, claim the higher ground and use all of the weapons on offer to devastating effect. This brings a great deal of freedom to an otherwise incredibly linear game, as the enemies react and adapt to the players movements with ease. This is shown at its peak when you shoot a squad captain, the smaller enemies (Grunts) will run to find a new leader. Fighting the Grunts did make me feel a little guilty, as not only are they appalling at fighting, but also due to their overly cute voices (oddly reminiscent of Invader Zim’s “Gir”).
They do, however, add to the character of the game which incidentally is one of the game’s best features. As the series has progressed, Bungie have adopted a more and more comic book feel to the proceedings, and why not? It is, after all, the tale of super soldiers fighting in impossible situations. This experience is carried over into the surprisingly solid voice work, with appearances from Superman 2’s Terence Stamp, Hellboy’s Ron Perlman, as well as most of the male cast of Firefly.
A great feature is that you can now play as both the Master Chief and the more recent addition to the series, the Arbiter, in the co-operative campaign which supports up to four players. In the single player game, these characters are present but are controlled by the computer, and this is where major blemishes appear in this otherwise overwhelmingly shiny game. When handling the enemies, it’s close to the level of tactical control seen in RTS games like “Dawn of War”. When controlling friendly units, it provides the level of strategy of a pinball table. The Arbiter in particular suffers from rank stupidity, seemingly deciding to catch bullets rather than dodge them.
On to the multiplayer side of the package and Halo 3 really comes into its own. Mainly because you can mute the other players’ voices without turning the sound off. This let’s me play without being called a “noob”. Genius. I took a barrel load of abuse once on Halo 2 for playing it for the first time (a heinous crime, I know), so to be able to ignore them was a bonus. The use of skill matching, however, means that you never have to be in a situation where you feel out of your depth. It works brilliantly, scaling almost perfectly as you improve/forget what you’re doing. Not once did I feel that I had been poorly matched, but still always felt challenged.
The weapons are equally well balanced, with size and weights being taken into account as well as the option to dual wield smaller weapons, so there isn’t one that seems to dominate over the others. Additionally, the teleport points are in less frequent use in the multiplayer, replaced by the hilariously named “Man Cannons”. There’s a lot of amusement to be had playing with them, as they fire the player around the map. Sadly though, it’s pretty likely that people will learn how to take advantage of these by learning the trajectories and speeds. These people don’t like games to be fun.
At the moment though, there aren’t any areas of Halo 3 being exploited, and that’s what makes the multiplayer special. The game is so tightly designed, in terms of both game play and controls, that losing feels like the players fault, rather than through easily abused game mechanics (here’s looking at you, Gears of War).
The only real innovation in the game comes in the multiplayer mode “Forge”, where the players simply press up on the D-pad, and act as a level editor in real time while the battle takes place. This is a fantastic idea, and could potentially give Halo 3 that next-gen feel it deserves. Unfortunately, it’s poorly implemented. It could be great, but can only be played locally or Xbox Live “buddies”, rather than through matchmaking. Hopefully this will be resolved in one of the inevitable patches that all games have these days, but at the moment it’s a feature that’s left close to useless.
Halo 3 is an easy recommendation for people who just want a fun game, but not necessarily wanting the mould to be broken. Nothing new is brought to the table, but that’s not really a problem with the level of quality on show. Much in the same way the recent “Transformers” movie refined the summer action blockbuster; this is a perfect example of the first person shooter polished to the Nth degree. In fact, as an overall package, it’s difficult to see how other developers will better it. It may even suggest that they try something different, but that’s unlikely.
Halo 3 follows on directly from Halo 2, as one would expect, resuming mankind’s (more specifically, the ever present Master Chief’s) war against the religious alien collective, the Covenant. Though the plot is nothing special, it does push the game forward with a nice sense of pace- something many games actually manage to fail with. The only real problem with the story-telling is the Playstation One-esque flashbacks involving the character “Cortana”, which seem horribly dated for a game with such high production values.
Graphically, many people have complained that it’s not as detailed as the recent “Bioshock”, and they’d be right. But Bioshock was all about small rooms and smaller corridors, and that’s not what Bungie have gone for. This is a full on wide-screen epic, with hundreds of events all occurring on screen at once across huge landscapes. There are nice touches to the detail though, the plants move when touched and though the metallic shine is still very bright, it adds a great sense of style.
The AI handles the myriad of enemies amazingly well, as they take cover, regroup, claim the higher ground and use all of the weapons on offer to devastating effect. This brings a great deal of freedom to an otherwise incredibly linear game, as the enemies react and adapt to the players movements with ease. This is shown at its peak when you shoot a squad captain, the smaller enemies (Grunts) will run to find a new leader. Fighting the Grunts did make me feel a little guilty, as not only are they appalling at fighting, but also due to their overly cute voices (oddly reminiscent of Invader Zim’s “Gir”).
They do, however, add to the character of the game which incidentally is one of the game’s best features. As the series has progressed, Bungie have adopted a more and more comic book feel to the proceedings, and why not? It is, after all, the tale of super soldiers fighting in impossible situations. This experience is carried over into the surprisingly solid voice work, with appearances from Superman 2’s Terence Stamp, Hellboy’s Ron Perlman, as well as most of the male cast of Firefly.
A great feature is that you can now play as both the Master Chief and the more recent addition to the series, the Arbiter, in the co-operative campaign which supports up to four players. In the single player game, these characters are present but are controlled by the computer, and this is where major blemishes appear in this otherwise overwhelmingly shiny game. When handling the enemies, it’s close to the level of tactical control seen in RTS games like “Dawn of War”. When controlling friendly units, it provides the level of strategy of a pinball table. The Arbiter in particular suffers from rank stupidity, seemingly deciding to catch bullets rather than dodge them.
On to the multiplayer side of the package and Halo 3 really comes into its own. Mainly because you can mute the other players’ voices without turning the sound off. This let’s me play without being called a “noob”. Genius. I took a barrel load of abuse once on Halo 2 for playing it for the first time (a heinous crime, I know), so to be able to ignore them was a bonus. The use of skill matching, however, means that you never have to be in a situation where you feel out of your depth. It works brilliantly, scaling almost perfectly as you improve/forget what you’re doing. Not once did I feel that I had been poorly matched, but still always felt challenged.
The weapons are equally well balanced, with size and weights being taken into account as well as the option to dual wield smaller weapons, so there isn’t one that seems to dominate over the others. Additionally, the teleport points are in less frequent use in the multiplayer, replaced by the hilariously named “Man Cannons”. There’s a lot of amusement to be had playing with them, as they fire the player around the map. Sadly though, it’s pretty likely that people will learn how to take advantage of these by learning the trajectories and speeds. These people don’t like games to be fun.
At the moment though, there aren’t any areas of Halo 3 being exploited, and that’s what makes the multiplayer special. The game is so tightly designed, in terms of both game play and controls, that losing feels like the players fault, rather than through easily abused game mechanics (here’s looking at you, Gears of War).
The only real innovation in the game comes in the multiplayer mode “Forge”, where the players simply press up on the D-pad, and act as a level editor in real time while the battle takes place. This is a fantastic idea, and could potentially give Halo 3 that next-gen feel it deserves. Unfortunately, it’s poorly implemented. It could be great, but can only be played locally or Xbox Live “buddies”, rather than through matchmaking. Hopefully this will be resolved in one of the inevitable patches that all games have these days, but at the moment it’s a feature that’s left close to useless.
Halo 3 is an easy recommendation for people who just want a fun game, but not necessarily wanting the mould to be broken. Nothing new is brought to the table, but that’s not really a problem with the level of quality on show. Much in the same way the recent “Transformers” movie refined the summer action blockbuster; this is a perfect example of the first person shooter polished to the Nth degree. In fact, as an overall package, it’s difficult to see how other developers will better it. It may even suggest that they try something different, but that’s unlikely.
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