A Better Word

Description Described

2011-05-12T16:56:00.001+01:00

Ah, description. I have quite a lot of thoughts on it,and generally I think I still struggle with it, but my insight was requested, so here it is.

I've always felt that I'm quite austere with description, and only occaisionally punctuate it with more poetic flourishes. Generally I don't go looking for an image if I don't have one, but if an image comes to mind as I'm writing I aim to incorporate it, and will sometimes reshape a scene with it in mind.

I try never to do a full paragraph of pure description, or if I must I try and add a bit of immaterial incidental activity or some thematic element to make it more dynamic; even something as simple as following a raindrop as it breaks over the stone parapet of a castle and trickles down the sandstone, is cast briefly back into freefall as it passes the window of the young lord's nursery, traces the contour of a gargoyle and finally joins the muddy slough of the courtyard, where it's abruptly spattered by the boot of the smith's apprentice, our POV character for the chapter. (And as an aside, I made that up on the spot as an example. I'm aware it's bollocks and contrived.)

I never ever give a full description of a character when he or she first appears in the narrative. This to me always recalls the days of primary school creative writing lessons, and a full biometric run down of leg measurements, bust size and eye colour according to the handy Dulux reference sheet bespeaks to me preteen dabbling in storytelling like nothing else. Instead, I go for just a couple of words to give the reader a sketch, then a few more hints and mentions throughout that scene when they fit to flesh things out. By the end of the first scene the reader should have a good portrait in their mind's eye of what the character looks like, but not enough to construct a Crimebusters photofit. Later, I'll generally only add further embellishment if it flows naturally, usually in the form of callouts to particular features where that feature is the focal point of a particular gesture or act.

Location setting is more needy, and usually I do open up with multiple lines of description, but I'll almost always try to go for incidental action or thematics to enliven it. For example in Red Flag, the opening description of Darken's fortress takes in its appearance, its local, and its atmosphere, but does so with a distinct emphasis on the imposing, impenetrable fortress-qualities of the place. Then the action kicks off with Hel immediately puncturing these defenses, making the description feel more like a set up for this pay off - which in turn describes to us some facet of Hel without saying anything - and less like a simple verbal painting in of the stage.

For me the hardest description is in pronouns and adverbs. The technical stuff. You know you don't want to keep doing 'He said, she said, he did, she did' but this stuff is very hard to give flow and character without being gruesomely overstated and flowery. In truth almost all dialogue does have to be a 'he said' job, but when things are clicking just right I'll spot without thinking the opportunities for a 'whispered' or a 'hissed' or maybe a 'said with a thin smile' or something. One of those will colour a lot of conversation; like a dye only a drop is needed.

Another skill I'm trying to grasp is the art of description, narrative digression and action amid dialogue. A lot of my stories are really minimal two-hander playscripts with the stage directions rewritten as narrative. I need to work better at realising the potential in prose.

Related to that is long-form sections of speechless action. I'm a speaky writer, no doubt about that, and I sometimes find myself grasping when I need to convey a couple of thousand words with negligible discussion (though I do find myself to have a knack for actual action scenes). I've had to actively study how this is done in 'real' books and again it's almost always about narrative digression. You segue into more conceptual or thematic or conversational prose for a bit as you coast along the action, drawing jumping off points from the events you detail whilst angling your theme to flow in the same direction as the story is heading. It's a good skill, the skill I'm most keen to hone. Narrative voice is where it's at. I generally pinpoint my main struggle with the actual words these days at not having a fully formed voice, and so having to actively work at each line. I can't simply start to 'talk' in narrative on the page. This is why I often favour first-person narration. I'm much better at naturalistic character dialogue and can rapidly assume an in-character narrator. I've also tried to muddy the water with characterful third person narration, but that's tricky and will often come out annoying. It's generally best suited to humour but doesn't have to be. Funnily enough when I was a writing machine back in my teens and stuff would just flow for me, I felt - and I still do feel - that my narrative voice was keenly honed. I had no plot in those days, so my writing was just meandering stylistics, and yet it flowed and had a certain attraction I still can't deny. Somehow over time I've completely lost that skill whilst picking up the (probably more needed) insight into plot mechanics. Characters I've always been good at, although I sometimes find it hard to kick the pebble down the mountain. My experiments in a shared universe have come so much more easily for me because AO'M had already set the shale scattering and all I had to do was jump on and surf down the quarry pit, pulling elaborate ollies and 360s of characterisation with my borrowed board.

...You see? That's what happens when an image hits me. Although it usually helps when it's less stupid.

I Hope We'll Be Here When They're Through With Us

2011-04-12T09:02:00.000+01:00

Realised finally why I am so resistant to getting an eye test. Have so little identity that I am clinging even to negative traits. ('That's Phil, his eyesight is shit.')

My most distant friends are the closest to me.

Recurring dreams are very rare, and occur only when I am truly obsessing over something.

Fantasy scenario is theoretically a possibility, but practical costs and likely ruinous. I keep circling it.

Have discovered a new identification figure.

I have incredible ideas every day. I am convinced of their brilliance. I can't execute on any of them.

Recently I've been reminded of all the things I wanted to pursue that were cut short. I had mostly forgotten about them until now.

I don't write about myself very often. Afraid of spiralling. Will probably stop now?

Why all of this? Because I wanted to write and was struggling.

Tell the People: Vince Cable Advocates Direct Action

2011-03-28T17:07:00.000+01:00

"No government - coalition, Labour or other - would change its fundamental economic policy simply in response to a demonstration of that kind."¹

So sayeth Vince Cable yesterday, with regards to the March for the Alternative that took place on Friday. I cannot imagine a greater vindication of direct action and civil disobedience than that. In a single sentence Cable has affirmed the facticity of a truth understood by all who believed in the rightfulness of direct action.

Let's be clear. Direct action is not an intensifier in the dialogue of protest. It does not exist to punctuate our statement by saying, 'Yes, we are this angry.' Just and neccesary direct action must be both of those things. They are mutually inclusive. Neccesary action is always just, and just action must always be neccesary. When the state condoned form of protest discourse has been sublimated by the system such that its power is negated (as it is in our current system, where it is diffused along socially prefigured lines of characterisation and storytelling, repackaged as an old, powerless narrative), then direct action becomes neccesary. This should not be hard to accept: When there is no power in civil obedience, we must turn to civil disobedience to become empowered. (And the rider to that, which is that we must not accept disempowerment.) All of those who have been acting upon the rightfulness of direct action (and here I most definitely include UK Uncut, and exclude the stupidity of the Black Bloc) have held at heart the knowledge that civil obedient protest - marching and rallying - has been disempowered. Until now that view has had opposition from ineffectual neoliberals insisting that endless marching within state constraints is the only rightful form of protest.

As of yesterday, that argument has been exploded. No longer is this argument contested. Now we have a statement, a declaration from one of the central figures in the ConDem cabal, that the civil obedient form of protest will not be recognised by the state in any effectual way. It almost beggars belief that Cable would misstep so badly as to make a statement so blunt, but so he did, and the ConDem mask has slipped. The government will not listen to its people. We must disobey to maintain common power, and we must not surrender common power. There's only one course of action.

Now we need to get that message out there. It saddens me that so few people will even see Cable's message, and fewer still will grasp what it means. We need to push it out, educate people. If people truly understood what was happening in this country's political sphere (and beyond it, of course) they would be frightened for the future. Anyone who is not concerned about the path we are taking, nor angry at the exercises of power by these falsely elected ideologues, does not understand what is happening. Or, of course, they're one of those who stand to profit. We need to make sure people do understand, so actions like this do not slip past barely noticed nor challenged:

'Academic fury over order to study the big society'

One line in particular stands out:

The Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC) will spend a "significant" amount of its funding on the prime minister's vision for the country, after a government "clarification" of the Haldane principle – a convention that for 90 years has protected the right of academics to decide where research funds should be spent.

This use of the word 'clarification' is deeply, deeply sinister. It's an omen of things to come. What other policies and principles might the coalition see fit to 'clarify'? In the face of such things, when fully comprehended, who would not be up in arms? So it's vital we make sure these actions, this information, is diseminated and understood. Cable has given us a perfect rallying point, a statement simultaneously sweeping in its impact yet uncommonly clear in its meaning. Now we need to let people know.

¹ http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-12874631

Prime Cut

2011-03-01T22:17:00.000Z

I have a proper update to post at some point. For now, though, my friends have started randomly getting thrilled over Halo, so it's time to redress the balance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aymXIIKwVDo&feature=fvsr

I've waited seven years for this...

2011-01-10T05:10:00.000Z

Tiers Two: Judgment Day

2011-01-02T05:59:00.000Z

A couple of top tier quickies - films whose inclusion are hardly groundbreaking.

Withnail and I

This isn't even a remotely unusual choice, and so there is little I can say that isn't already known. In short, a story deeply tragic, yet uproarously hilarious, which maintains a constant texture to its dialogue, with not a line off target. Its true strength, though, is in the depth of its observation and reflection, which taps a much deeper vein of pathos than is usual of farce.

Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark

Another craftsman's film, like Chinatown, and like others I've yet to list; films in which every aspect has been neatly crafted to mesh as an elegant, solidly constructed whole. In this case Lucas and Spielberg had their eye on cinema as a medium of entertainment, and they produce a piece with fun pouring from its truly cinematic workings. A beautiful score, superb setpieces (that have become film history), humour and adventure that rose straight out of a nostalgic awareness of the producers' own childhood joys.
Harrison Ford - almost skipped over - is a gift to the film, making Jones definitively his own. Much of the series' charm comes from its eponymous hero, because he's a hero for the underdog. Succesful and smooth at the right times, he's also at times acutely fallible, clumsy and oblivious in a sympathetic way unique among action heroes. In addition, that he is in his day job a professor and lecturer, who relies on knowledge and intelligence as much as he does his fists (nearly), he is far more a hero for the nerd generation that relishes in the films than the likes of Bruce Willis.

Tiers of a Clown

2010-12-21T16:45:00.000Z

So, in one of the many houses of reputable conversion I frequent, there came the discussion of films, and our personal 'best' canon. This led to me telling an interested participant that I would blog about my 'Top Ten' movies. But I don't have ten, so let's call it my 'Top Tier' movies instead. One thing that became apparent as I was running through titles in my mind is that there are a whole swathe of fantastic movies that sit JUST outside the boundary. I may only have 8 or so classics, but there's probably about 25 near-classics. On with the list!

Primer

This is a movie that will make you think. Like a cleverly structured puzzle box, it has many interlocking pieces that need turning over in your mind, sliding aside to free others. Shane Carruth pretty much came out of nowhere with his idea for a story about discovery and invention, and the people unprepared for it. He takes no prisoners, with extremely colloquial, naturalistic, elliptical dialogue, even when key plot information is disclosed. Nobody here is talking for the audience's benefit. And when combined with phenomenally natural performances - from guys who have never acted before - the effect is incredible. It is real in a way no other film captures. But it's challenging to keep up.

Add to that a plot where great swathes of cause and effect have ceased to exist, are never shown on screen, and have to be grasped through extrapolation, and you have a challenge. You cannot relax with Primer. You could not watch films of this kind all the time, without being a savant. But when you want something that will occupy every strand of your mind for hours longer than its running time, Primer is the film. As my brother said, it's a 4 hour film in 70 minutes.

It's not a cold, cerebral affair, though. Carruth came into the project to make a film about two guys, and their relationship. Their trust and friendship, and how it is affected by a paradigm shift in their reality. Again, no concessions are made to the audience. There's no soliloquys, no impassioned speeches writ large, no swelling orchestral score. But for all that, the subtle, understated emotion is truer, and more affecting.

It's also beautifully shot and produced, all by Carruth, who is apparently Leonardo Da Vinci reincarnate. I give it the highest recommendation, but only if you want a film you have to put effort into to get enjoyment back. And don't seek out plot information before you watch - It's not a twist ending film or anything of that kind, but it's about growing discovery and dawning realisation, and this atmosphere is perhaps hurt even more by spoilers than any shock twist would be.

Chinatown

Chinatown is pretty much a perfectly constructed movie. It's a plot movie, all about the story, but it perfectly crafts every aspect - visuals, sound, pace, performance - to tell that story in the most compelling way possible.

That story is a great one. A truly cinematic story, that gives itself over to powerhouse performances of its characters and striking visualisations of its bleak landscapes. It's a story about the brutality of those with power to those they hold power over - brutality more subtle and more destructive than physical violence - and an unanswered question about those who turn a blind eye, all symbolised by Gittes' old Chinatown beat that gives the film its name.

It is not, however, a relentless film. It's a film that finds warmth where it can in a cold and cruel world, and seizes it - and the warmth between Gittes and Mulwray triumphs over its context in a truly, ah, warming way. It has humour too, particularly in the wry observations and actions of Gittes himself.

Nicholson lives up to his reputation in the role of the PI who knows he should look the other way for his own sake, but can't beat his own good nature. I have seen neither the Shining or Cuckoo's Nest, but this, at least is a performance worthy of remembrance.

Faye Dunaway gives as good as she gets as Mulwray, and there is genuine energy in the scenes between her and Gittes. Their relationship goes through a vast sequence of twists and turns, and at every point the progression feels true and the place they are at resonates.

John Huston appears fleetingly, like Lecter in Silence of the Lambs, and also like that performance, he is vividly memorable and a dominant performance in just brief appearances. A compelling moral study, he is abhorrent, perhaps a monster, but one understands that he simply does not see the world the same way as we do. He is no monster in his own eyes. Huston provides a window onto understanding of that morality, and is intriguing for it.

I won't enumerate more cast members. There really is no dropped ball. The cast is as universally strong as the production. It's all about the story, and the story is superb, but the immense strength of every element behind it is what gives it such impact.

I have more movies to discuss, but I realised how long this was getting, so I'll do it in several installments. Be on the lookout for the next thrilling edition!

Supernatural Selection

2010-12-18T21:17:00.000Z

After a friend shoved the discs into my hand with an injunction to watch them, and the reassurances of another that it was worth my time, I finally decided to overcome my skittish wussiness and watch Supernatural. It was good.

That's where my write up would end if Season One was all that existed. It's good. It blends folklore, classic rock and pop humour. But it's not exactly stratospheric. The cast all seem to be in their early twenties and it comes off a bit 'teen'. But, seeing as I had the DVDs in hand, and not much else to do, I went on to Season Two. It was better.

By the end of S2 the 'teen' feeling is gone, with a much wider, more interesting range of characters. The true plot has kicked in and events are clipping along with much more interest. Individual episodes have clever hooks, the humour is funnier, the music rockier, it's all notched up. Except the folklore, which takes a backseat to recurring demons and shapeshifters. That's the only disappointment. I went on to Season Three. It was excellent.

Somewhere around the beginning of S3 the show recieved an infusion of intense creativity. If an episode isn't advancing the central mysteries of the season, it's taking time out to explore superb, often hilarious concepts - many inspired by digging once again into the richness of foklore. The special 'A Very Supernatural Christmas', for example, sees the boys on the trail of what they suspect to be the Krampus, only to find out they've actually been tracking the Pagan Gods of Winter Solstice. The end of S3 was too good to break, and I immediately started S4. It was EVEN BETTER. The long game plot starts to come into focus, and it is good. The concept episodes are even more imaginative. The supporting cast is excellent. I finished it in three days. Now for season 5...

Natural Selection

2010-11-20T12:19:00.000Z

Torment must surely now give Bioshock, the Void and Braid a run for their money as the best game I played this year. This is what computer roleplaying games should always have been, and yet what they never have. It stands alone as a true roleplaying experience. You control who you are, and who you are really matters, because Torment is also packing a hell of a story. A richly thematic story about identity.

You wake up with no memory, and a few scant clues to your past life, and you strike out to learn who you were, and how you came back from the dead. But your search for your past presents dilemmas, and how you solve them says much about you, and a new question starts to become apparent. Who you were matters, but perhaps what matters more is who you are now. And if those two people aren't the same, well, doesn't that beg another question?

Opportunities to carve out your identity present themselves at every turn; the game is rich with layers and paths you can take, and it's all richly presented. The writing in the game is among the best in the genre - perhaps THE best. Certain dialogue scenes, not even voiced, are a greater thrill than any cutscene in Final Fantasy or Dragon Age. The story plays itself out with a perfectly measured pace, first unwinding mysteries steadily, letting the questions drawing you in one direction, then another, then beginning to drop revelations, twists, and turns - and some of the reveals are truly striking - before you emerge from a pivotal encounter with a goal in sight, and all of your answers - except for one, catalysed to seek out your destiny and show who you truly are once and for all.

The Planescape setting is one of the most vibrant and imaginative presented for D&D, and given license to make a game with it, it is to the boundless credit of Chris Avellone and his team that they sought to match its creativity, rather than carve and staid a traditional path through it. In a world where belief affects reality and creatures from an infinite number of worlds gather in the pub, Avellone and co capitalised fully on the richness of a universe prone to its own identity crises, and told the story of a man, and everything that could mean.

It's a nearly perfect game. It manages to transcend almost every flaw of the classic Infinity Engine system. Even the 1. 2. 3. dialogue boxes seem to fade from view under the strength of writing. It briefly stumbles when you take an excursion from Sigil, the central city, to some of the surrounding planes. In these places some of its fetch-quest, hack-n-slash roots briefly show, albeit still dressed in a phenomenally colourful trimming. This is the one and only time the game ever tired me, and otherwise I remained completely engrossed. I could, even now, go back and play through it again, and despite knowing its secrets from the start, despite having only just completed it, the opportunity to seek new answers to its questions would hold interest. I'll be sure that I do play it again a couple of years down the line, when memory has dimmed a little, and I'm sure I'll be transfixed a game.

This is what RPGs should be. This is what they never have been. A nearly perfect game. 9/10

Only one question remains...

What can change the nature of a man?

If You Believe There's Nothing Up My Sleeve

2010-11-13T15:48:00.000Z

Moon slipped by the popular consciousness rather quietly; I'm not even sure what it was released against, but it didn't make any big news. It got a few mumbles because director Duncan Jones is David Bowie's son, but these were mostly years ago, when it was first gathering momentum. As such it joins a pantheon of low-budget, high-concept, under-the-radar sci-fi movies that are really, really good.

Whilst not quite a one man show, Sam Rockwell is at the center of events, and the film's success rests on his shoulders. It must have been a treat of a part to get, providing some unique challenges, and Rockwell rises to them admirably, allowing one to become entirely embroiled in the conceit of the story. It's not always the most subtle of performances, but it's real and slightly, surprisingly, heroic. By the end Sam has not only our sympathy, but our cheers.

None of which is to dismiss Kevin Spacey, whose contribution is more understated, but wholly neccesary and pitch-perfect. In a manner which will remind the majority of HAL 9000, he imbues the robotic Gerty with just a hint of constrained emotion.

Gerty itself is a total coup on Jones' part. Whilst most will focus on Rockwell's character, there's is a great depth of interest in his mechanical companion. The design is ingenious: A chunky boom arm suspended from ceiling rails, with effector arms on seperate units, there is no semblance of humanoid silhouette at all. A tiny little LCD screen is the token attempt to create a human bond, displaying a smiling emoticon which briefly flashes other symbols when it wishes to express something. Whether Gerty is nothing more than a machine with a contrived display of humanity, or whether the strained companionship represents something human which is constrained by its medium, is an intriguing question.

Still, fascinating as it is, the question is essentially a sideshow, whilst the plot proper is concerned with Sam. There's not a great deal of story - it could be summed up in a paragraph - instead Jones is content simply to set up his concept and follow it as it unfolds, with events only falling into a more paced narrative toward the end. It's exploration and character examination, not SF thriller.

It's also pleasingly, if mildly, subversive. Halfway in, the film has a very familiar feel to it; it might almost seem like a pleasing blend of derivations, a variation on an old theme. But then threads go in unexpected directions. Not shockingly so - This isn't a Christopher Nolan flick - but enough to be refreshing.

Indeed, that is the ultimate feel of Moon - Not shocking or extreme, never coming on strong, but content to be subtle, and to subtly wander into interesting areas. Refreshing is a good description. This tonality is carried through into direction and production. The film is beautiful and serene. This is a good niche for Jones to be carving, and I await his next eagerly.

9/10

Living Beyond Means

2010-11-08T09:13:00.000Z

It's a great success of the Conservatives' rhetoric that they have convinced a lot of this country that 'Living beyond one's means' is the crime of the benefits claimants. This has been accomplished simply by the old staple technique of twisting definitions.

At the heart of the misconception, there is a conflation of this nebulous idea of 'means' and income. This is a misconception only on the part of the public who have bought into the idea. The Conservatives who have spun the story should not be seen as a piece with the accepting public. The public are mistaken - fooled - but the Tories are wilfully misdirectional.

The Conservatives have spun the story - sadly accepted in many quarters - that to live beyond your income is the great sin that has triggered the depression. They are able to gain credibility from pundits across the spectrum citing 'living beyond means' as the trigger for the depression. But note the distinction: Means, not income. To equate the two is the Conservative falsehood. Those without income are living beyond their means if they live at all, and those with absurdly overinflated incomes would struggle greatly to live a lifestyle that actually exceeded them.

The truth is that those 'living beyond their means' are comitting the excess at the point of income - their income is wildly beyond a reasonable level. And likewise, viewed in this light - the true light - we see that it is preposterous to accuse the benefits claimants of living beyond their means. If they have an income of zero, how can they possibly be living in excess of anything?

Of course a lie like this is insidious. Nobody explicitly draws the connection underpinning it - indeed, to do so is to expose the strings. Instead it is simply made a tacit assumption, an unspoken underlying definition. That way there will be many - those who are not already scrutinous but who assume veracity - who do not even notice an assumption is being made. And the best way to reinforce the false equivalency is simply to take it for granted, as if there is nothing even to dispute. But there is, and not just in this case. And those who assume veracity on the part of those in power are going to find themselves deeply confused down the line as to how things have gone so bad.

More to the point, they'll be responsible.

Apotheosis to the Death of Personality, and Everything in Between

2010-10-12T04:59:00.000+01:00

"As a man, I could never have contained such forbidden truths. But each of us is so much more than we once were. Gazing out across the plains of possibility, do you not feel with all your soul how we have become like gods? And as such, are we not indivisible? As long as a single one of us stands, we are legion!"

"In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No; a man chooses, and a slave obeys! You think you have memories. A farm. A family. An airplane. A crash. And then this place. Was there really a family? Did that airplane crash, or was it hijacked? Forced down, forced down by something less than a man, something bred to sleepwalk through life unless activated by a simple phrase, spoken by their kindly master. Come in."

The same theme, attacked from two opposite ends of the spectrum, from two of my favourite games. So a game that sits atop that spectrum and straddles the whole question, you'd expect that to go down well, would you not?

Why yes, I am enjoying Torment, now that you ask.

(One day soon I need to make an actual blog post. And also a LoK retrospective. Vae victis!)

And It Was Good

2010-09-29T07:04:00.001+01:00

Oh fuck yes Trine 2.

Now You're a Hero

2010-09-05T13:25:00.000+01:00

This week, I have been mostly playing Hero Core. Another freebie indie game that's compulsively addictive. It merges the exploration of Metroidvania with shmuppy gameplay. I'm not generally a shmup fan, but Core is far more about interesting rooms and enemies that absurd difficulty ramps. In fact the smoothly challenging curve is one of the games best features. Also has loads of replay value among its many modes. Retro art style is kinda neat, and the amusing Engrish language option is cute.

Also got hooked hard on Fringe, which seems to have a more protracted, defined arc than Abrams' Lost, which I could never get into. I hope this is the case; if things start to seem more in a general 'mysterious stuff that's never resolved' vibe it'll lose a lot of its value. Not sure I'd have gotten into the show if not for John Noble (Denethor) who is pretty much show stealing/defining as the disturbed genius Walter Bishop. Plot has some uncanny parallels with Half-Life, but it's probably just coincidence. The cases are frequently preposterous, which seems somewhat at odds with the vision of the show (or my perception of it) which seeks to try and rationalise or credibilise them. Also, one of the recurring characters is a cow.

Shutter Your Face

2010-08-29T21:46:00.000+01:00

I saw Shutter Island at last on Thursday night, through a funk of sickness. It is a good movie - good, but not great. Where it succeeds is in its visuals, texture, and performances. I have not seen Scorsese and DiCaprio's other projects, but on the basis of this they seem like a strong pair, and I'm now inclined to check out both Gangs of New York and the Departed.

DiCaprio makes the film, and, I think it is fair to say, in places he carries it. It's been a good year for him, and though Island is nothing like as good a film as Inception, DiCaprio's performance is actually better. Nolan's film did not offer him the time to decompress the character as he does here. Indeed, to an extent Teddy's character may be the point of the film.

It's odd the DiCaprio would choose to make this movie back to back with Inception, so similar are the roles. I am given to assume that he has a particular penchant for these characters who are in some way disconnected from reality, as was also a facet of Abagnale and Hughes. To be sure, he's good at playing them.

Ben Kingsley is also superb as the doctor who does not judge his criminally insane patients, and whose caring is shown through a very firm hand. At times he has to be the villain, at times to suggest a sinister edge, but at other times he needs to show a genuine caring. A tricky line, but one he walks well.

Mark Ruffalo adds the final element as DiCaprio's partner, Chuck. It's the sort of performance that will probably be overlooked, as it never steals any scenes from the other two, but it's a strong and credible showing which provides a solid third column for the piece.

It's the plot that prevents greatness being achieved. I can imagine that in novel form it may have been a stronger affair, but as presented on the screen, it's flawed. For one thing, the film is immensely predictable. Within the first five minutes, most of the audience will know exactly where the next two hours are going. Yet it maintains a sort of half-hearted pretense of playing with the audience, and at the end of the time you wonder whether you were ever meant to be decieved. The red herring plot threads - clearly evident as such even as they play out - seem to lack a point. In fact, events are so predictable, that I wonder if this was actually Scorsese's destination, or whether his actual goal was not the 'reveal', but that final line shared between Teddy and Chuck. Without that scene, the film would feel rather empty, but with it, it retroactively reinvests the film with some meaning, and a rewatch, treating the film as a study of Teddy, with the outcome in mind, and focussing on the way in which he interacts with and judges the other patients, may disclose some of the obfusticated point of the earlier scenes. If nothing else, it is in that final scene that the performances hit their highest notes.

So, anyway, like I said, good, but not great. Worth seeing once, at least, and maybe twice, particularly for the feel of the thing and for DiCaprio. 8/10

Also watched Magnolia, which I have had kicking about the place on DVD for years now. It's hard to find a time when I feel like sparing 3.5 hours, you know? Anyway, having settled to watch it the other night, lights off in the settling twilight, I was initially enjoying it a great deal. It certainly has a brilliant opening. Paul Thomas Anderson claims to have structured the film after the Beatles' track A Day in the Life, with its swelling peaks and crescendos which build, then ebb, then build again. I can certainly see the similarity. My problem with it is that it feels like one swell too man. It's being asked to emotionally invest one too many times, so by the end I felt a little bit of apathy. Certainly for the first 1:45 of its running time it keeps things pacy, lively, and changed up enough to be exhilirating. I quote '1:45' because that's the point when the film reached its midpoint crescendo and I was enjoying it so much I checked to make sure it wasn't going to be ending soon. Well, it wasn't, but shortly after this point it descends into its deepest trough - not in terms of quality, but in terms of emotion - and it doesn't quite sustain enough flourishes of pace and style to maintain the entertainment level as it coasts through. It's a pretty bleak film, and it gets a bit bogged down on the way into that final act.

In many respects it's akin to Benjamin Button, being long and sweeping in grandeur, and attempting a meditation on life through a considerable fixation on death, as well as love. But where that film was mawkish and tawdry, Magnolia succeeds, perhaps because it is inherently more vibrant to follow a tapestry of characters for a day than to follow one for a lifetime. But also generally, Magnolia simply creates more compelling, sympathetic characters than Button with its overly idiosyncratic weirdos. In particular Tom Cruise actually bothers to do some acting as a sort of heightened version of himself, and Julianne Moore provides the strongest showing as a messed up woman breaking down as her husband dies. There really isn't a weak link in the cast, though, and it'd be ephemeral of me to name everyone in turn. I'll give one final named credit to Philip Seymour Hoffman, though, who is excellent, like he generally is (also, I recommed seeing Capote).

All that, and it has Supertramp on the soundtrack, so you know it can't be bad (Although at present I have Aimee Mann's opening rendition of One is the Loneliest Number stuck in my head). 8/10, again.

Correction

2010-08-22T03:41:00.000+01:00

Inception IS worthy of all of its praise.

MASSIVE SPOILERS: http://tinyurl.com/354ok6k

By Popular Demand

2010-08-21T23:14:00.000+01:00

Snatching the Pebble

2010-08-18T02:24:00.000+01:00

This is a fantastic book. It touches on an area I'm specifically fond of - gaming - but actually its appeal is far broader than that. Suits sums it up in his opening, when he says:

"It is the attempt to discover and formulate a definition, and to follow the implications of that discovery even when they lead in surprising, and sometimes disconcerting, directions."
-p21

This was the aspect that really fuelled my interest unexpectedly, the definitional side of the argument, dressed often as a refutation of Wittgenstein. I might now have to follow up on this, but I wonder if I'll find other books on the subject that are even half as entertaining a read as this one.

That's the great strength of the book. It's as enjoyable as the best fiction, really, laugh-out-loud funny in places, and even dramatic and characterful at times. Suits chooses to address his points in the form of a socratic dialogue between anthropomorphic insects drawn from Aesop's fable. The inherent humour of the idea is obviously just one joke, and would fast become tired, but Suits infuses the ongoing discourse with so many amusing twists and turns and flourishes, and his mouthpieces become characters in their own right. The triumphant return of the Grasshopper in the final chapters is, absurdly, genuinely thrilling.

And as if that wasn't enough, the conclusion reached in those chapters is really jaw droppingly intriguing. It's stated right at the beginning, but in a deliberately riddled form which gives the meat of the book its pretext for unpicking the meaning of 'games'. When things finally come full circle, the moment of comprehension makes the price of entry worthwhile alone.

If only there were more philosophical texts like this. Fantastic, 10/10 stuff.

(I found an abridged exceprt of one of the best chapters online. Check it out, then buy the book!
http://www.senia.com/2006/11/21/ivan-and-abdul-by-bernard-suits-part-i/
http://www.senia.com/2006/11/22/ivan-and-abdul-by-bernard-suits-part-ii/ )

Now reading The Book of Unholy Mischief. Only a scant few pages in, but I don't expect much from it. Seems to suffer badly by being an almost identical tale to Locke Lamora, but without the gift for plot, characters or prose possessed by Lynch.

And on that note, sometime soon I really want to get dug into The Republic of Thieves. The Lamora series has been pretty fun so far, and it quietly promises to become something rather notable.

Similarly, I find myself more eager to pick up A Clash of Kings than I expected to be. Though I found a few elements offputting when I read Game, the strengths of the good characters have lingered in my mind beyond the flaws of the weak ones. So I'll probably get on with that at some point.
And in digital news, I got snared again in Desktop Dungeons tonight. What an amazing game. It's got the most finely tuned balance of depth, elegance, ease of learning, challenge and everything else that I've found in a game. It also succeeds admirably in conjuring up the feel of the best parts of roguelikes without any of the barriers to entry. The new update has tarted things up a bit too, and I'm liking the change to dieties. No sooner had I mentioned it to a friend than I had to dive back in and I didn't stop until I'd ran a monk and a paladin through Normal mode. Now I've got designs on a Gnome Warlord for the next. I only hope the guy behind this doesn't leave it a one off.

What else? I'm sure there was something. Oh yes, a project has finally got legs. I may have a new boardgame prototyped by the weekend.

Fun times.

Bonus Credit Question:

If you could replace your body with a synthetic body which would look and feel indistinguishable from a real body, and would never fall prey to illness, would you do it?

And We'll All Be Lonely Tonight, And Lonely Tomorrow

2010-08-10T08:24:00.000+01:00

There's a scene at the top of the first episode of Moffat and Gatiss' new 'Sherlock' in which invalided Watson discusses his blog with the therapist who encouraged him to start one.

'You need to learn how to be a civillian again; keeping a record of everything that happens to you will help,' she tells him. He glances up and gives her an empty smile.

'Nothing happens to me,' he says.

I think this is my problem too. I find it incredibly hard to write anything, compared to everyone else I know. And what I do write is pretty impersonal in contrast with others, too. But then, every one of my days is exactly the same as the last: I wake up at a stupid time, sit in front of a computer, eat some crap food, and go back to bed. So what's to write?

Anyway, another year another Holmes. So what's this one like? Well, it's an improvement over last Christmas' Downey Jr attempt which, whilst entertaining and well directed, was using the Holmes name as little more than a marketing tool. Should have been the start of a new and potentially promising IP, but no dice. Moderate spoilers follow.

This adaptation is Holmes, anyway. It's not pure Holmes - it is, after all, modern day set - but it's Holmes at the heart. So that's good. I'm glad we're not being saturated by empty-but-bankable names. I wasn't really concerned for this respect, though. Moffat and Gatiss have more artistic integrity than that.

The modernisation was a concern, but is actually pretty good. Holmes' technophilia is fitting and interesting. We see how Holmes changes to fit into the new world of forensics and connectivity. This is ultimately what I feared would be missed, but it wasn't. Good!

I run hot and cold on Cumberbatch (he keeps asking me not to). At times he is very good, and very holmely (Sorry). At other times he doesn't quite work for me. He's a bit younger than I expected them to cast, but this seems to be Moffat's way at the moment, and it's working out alright. Cumberbatch does add a slightly disaffected modern-batcherlor-with-cash arrogant layabout undercurrent to the character. It's good and interesting, another nice manifestation of the modern translation, although occaisionally it spills over too far.

I have more trouble with Martin Freeman's Watson. Is this surprising? Nobody seems to be able to get Watson right. At the least, he is not so far gone as to be a New-Watson-Likes-Jam, but he's a bit dull. He's not dim, mostly, but he is the butt of the jokes sometimes, and whilst he retains the moral compass aspect, it surfaces less often and in milder ways. The flaring arguments of the pair are absent. Freeman plays him fine, in fact he's rather good - particularly in Episode 3 where he solves the Bruce Partington Plans mystery for Mycroft. It's just that I don't think he's written particularly interestingly. He's like Watson with the saturation turned down.

The real issue, might fall between them. Discussing with DJS the point came up that this Holmes has no real pain. So he's really not a sociopath - his behaviour is just 'a bit of a dick' (said with a sideways smile). And because he has no real pain, there is no real source of trouble and concern for Watson, and no conflict between them. And this weakens both.

Meanwhile, everybody hates Moriarty. My own reaction was actually less harsh than most, but I think that was largely because I had been braced for him to suck bollocks from the beginning. He's a charicature, and not remotely Moriarty. That said, the core of the character is not terrible of itself, and would have worked as an original villain, except that the panto performance added to it goes far too far over the top. The problem with portrayals of Moriarty, I think, is that he gets about three lines of dialogue in the entirety of the original source material. The Final Problem is so utterly terrifying because Moriarty is all but invisible, a wraith and an assassin, pursuing Holmes but barely glimpsed.

An unexpected highlight for me was Gatiss' Mycroft. Notsomuch in Episode 1, where he's a bit too much of a comic device, but in Episode 3, where he is actually a character in his own right. I fell for the (somewhat contrived) Moriarty misdirection, and I'm glad he wasn't. But then, he would actually have been better than what we got. (It seems obvious to me that it'll be Mycroft who pulls them out of the fire in the cliffhanger resolution.)

Three episodes isn't much, and I still haven't made a settled opinion on the series. Part of the problem is all three scripts have had their flaws, which makes judging the tone and direction harder. But there's enough there to make some fairly solid judgments.

The modern, high-tech aspect is a winner. It's used judiciously, and captures the cerebral mind-workings of Holmes. The floating phone text device is a good one, as long as they keep using it with restraint. And visually it all looks pretty good. The golem scene is a bit bizarre, sort of tripping into expressionism. Quite nice on its own, utterly unlike the rest. Interesting to imagine what the show might be like if it goes further that way.

But the real problem, the generalised issue that really stems into all of the others, is that the tone of the thing is too whimsical. Just like all the modern Holmes stuff. It takes the idiosyncracies of the character and the cases and plays them lighthearted. Now, this worked well in the sly references to canon (The five pips was inspired), but in terms of the actual vibe of the show it was too light. If I ever adapted Holmes it would be a dark, dark thing. Not humourless: There is plenty of humour in Holmes. But dark. This man is, really, a very unhealthy character, whilst Watson is disaffected and has issues of his own. And many of the crimes they handle are borne out of severe depravity and moral bankruptcy. Holmes should be dark.

For me, the radio adaptation remains head-and-shoulders the best. Merrison and Williams ARE Holmes and Watson. I think it's as good as a straight adaptation could be. So for my money, the real merit in any new adaptation is going to be putting another angle on things, finding something different. 'Sherlock' had the potential to do that, and it still does. I really hope it goes for it.

(Ratings, because I love rating stuff:

A Study in Pink - 8/10
The Blind Banker - 7/10
The Great Game - 8/10, by a whisker.)

But Can You Put Your Hands in Your Head?

2010-08-07T00:52:00.000+01:00

So, I saw Inception on Wednesday (but there's no spoilers here). So heavily hyped has it been, I was actually quite prepared for a disappointment. Pleasantly surprising, then, to find that it was a film that deserved hype - albeit perhaps notw quite the absurd amount it has recieved.

I suppose it is this decade's Matrix, although less showy and more thoughtful than that film. It has the same high-concept/action thriller blending. It is, perhaps, too busy. I can seperate out two distinct plot threads that could have been decompressed into more elegant movies each. In fact, far more than that earlier series, here is an idea that meritted a trilogy format. Alas, this is not really Nolan's style. But even lacking that, and with the frustrating corollary that some ideas are not taken as far as one would like, it's a damned good film.

There's plenty of discussion- and thinking-fodder on offer there, but that's what everyone is talking and it doesn't need me to chime in (although I do have a personal pet theory, which I may record later). What I wanted specifically to make mention of was the visuals.

There are some jaw-dropping VFX and action sequences in the film. They're inspired both in terms of the ideas on the screen, and the thinking that has gone into their execution (I am sure some of what I saw must have been wire work, but if so it was the best damned wire work I have ever seen). And aside from this, the whole film looks superb. But here's what I really appreciate: None of it was gratuitous, for its own sake. All the action and effects were born of the concepts, and reinforced them and the story. That's really good, that's what completed the package.

It's cinematic in its truest sense - this is what cinema should be. And it may have swayed me in favour of 3D. I saw this on a pretty small screen, but wow, I would have loved to see that on an iMax in 3D.

Strongly recommended, a 9/10. (Narrowly pipped by Memento as my favourite of Nolan's films, though.)

In Living Colour

2010-07-27T11:58:00.000+01:00

The Colours. They speak to me.

The Void is...

Like nothing else.

I must go. I will speak more later. For now, I need more colour. And the Brothers are coming.

Review Slew

2010-07-23T17:48:00.000+01:00

This week, I 'ave been mostly eating...

Books

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay

Starts well, quite episodic, rich setting. Initially has a lightness of touch. Gets more maudlin as it goes on, finishes badly. Still probably worthwhile for anyone with an interest in the Golden Age of Comics trappings. 7/10

A Little History of the World

An interesting curio, with an odd past. Has merit, but what others herald as a 'grandfatherly' or 'magical' tone I find condescending. But then it was originally inteded for children. 5/10

Swann's Way

First book of Proust's A La Recherche du Temps Perdu. Thought I would give it a try, after hearing magnificent things about Proust. After 70 pages of the author talking about loving his mother, I changed my mind.

Now reading: The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia

Anthromorphic insects from the fable of the Grasshopper and the Ant engage in Socratic dialogues to arrive at a philosophy of games (also Life and Utopia). Brilliant, enlightening.

Audio

Sherlock Holmes

The definitive adaptation. Merrison and Williams ARE Holmes and Watson. Various highlights, a few weak points. Coules' adaptations improve whilst Doyle's interest wanes, raising the bar in places (His Last Bow and Casebook). Further Adventures are fun and pitched ever so slightly in humour, rather than poe-faced duplication.

The Signalman and Other Ghostly Tales

Dickens' ghost stories, read by John Sessions. Not really the right atmosphere for bright midsummer evenings, but ripping stuff all the same. Sessions mostly hits it out of the park, though he falters a bit on the Signalman. Sound design lifts it above commercial audiobook quality, with an original suite of music included as an isolated track at the end of the colection. Still a couple of these left to listen to. Eagerly awaiting the Poe release.

Films

Primer

Amazing. Maybe the best time-travel film ever made. Possibly that comparison isn't even applicable. This isn't really even the same genre as 12 Monkeys or Back to the Future or Time Traveller's wife. More like speculative fiction. A classic, perhaps hampered only by a touch of emotional disaffection in places, but hard to say. Often this adds to the cold feel. 10/10, probably.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Mawkish and morbid. Dreary, dull, sentimental, tiresome. Overlong. Meaningless. Maybe second quarter has a good film lost in it somewhere. 4/10

Gran Torino

Feels like it should have been made in the late 80s. Tone wanders from charicature to humour to gritty drama. A bit weird. Tries to have meaning and garbles it a bit. Also, Clint Eastwood signs about a car over the end credits, which is horrifying. Not too bad, though. Just feels oddly dated. 6/10

Brazil

Aged poorly. A bit too Gilliam for its own good. Still worth a watch, but I had Gilliam-grotesquery fatigue by the end of it. Probably more impact if I had seen this before some of his others. 7/10

TV

Babylon 5

Plot runs out halfway through. Good whilst it lasts. S2 and 3 are excellent. 4 starts excellent and ends not bad, but lags in the middle. Yet to watch 5.

Games

And Yet it Moves

Subjective gravity platformer, with a really cool 'torn paper world' theme. It's high on atmosphere, and there's some really good quality platforming. It has one real flaw, which is that it lacks the feel of smooth control that makes the best platformers so immersive. It's a bit twitchy and finnicky, and you can't help but think it'd be even better if you could pull some mad jumps off. You'll forgive it this after you see the genius of the levels, though. Especially after the snake bite... It has another flaw, external to the game itself - for a game of this length (~4 hours tops, unless you really dig the time trials) its price point is way too high (I got it on offer). 8/10

Jade Empire

Refreshingly different to the usual Bioware RPG mould. All the core elements are there except the combat, but everything is pared down to its essence, and this elegance is carried over to a slick action combat system. It has flaws - some lazy port issues with the controls, a system which sometimes crosses from elegance to oversimplicity, and the plot is not as rich as some of their other titles - but still a game with a much defter touch than, say, Mass Effect.

Mass Effect

Well, now you mention it... I sunk about ten hours into it. Maybe less. At first it felt lovely and cinematic. Then the shitty AI and shitty UI and artifical difficulty and dull writing and bored voice acting cut in. Bleh. 4/10

Shatter

A revelatory update of arcade game Arkanoid (that's the one with the blocks and the paddle). You wouldn't have imagined there was this much scope, but Sidhe have polished it to a mirror shine. Pretty damned compelling. No real negatives to the game itself, only the fact its limited in its breadth. 7/10

Bionic Commando: Rearmed

Not the new one, the update of the arcade/NES game. Sidescrolling platforming centred around grappling hook acrobatics. Very slick, quite a lot of depth, with a range of weapons, enemies and powerups, hidden areas, challenge rooms and some nonlinearity. Difficulty is pretty high, as it was with all games of that era. Way more than a port, the updates to this game are marvellous. Also, it's quite pretty. 8/10

The Misadventures of P.B. Winterbottom

Temporal puzzle platformer which manages to have surprisingly little in common with Braid. Hampered a little by excessive cut-rate Suess humour and a lame attempt at Britishness. Still manages to be engaging at times. Meanwhile, all other aspects tick along nicely. The silent movie trappings, visual and auditory, are a treat. The gameplay is blended close to perfection, with the platforming element not totally subsumed by the puzzles. Puzzles, meanwhile, range from easy to moderately challenging, and the curve is well paced. Quite a lot of variations on the theme are thrown up, rather than relying too heavily on any one idea. Perhaps this has been taken too far - there is room for more levels with the existing mechanics. It is quite short; the main game is probably sub-three hours if you don't get stuck too much. Still, there's a healthy dollop of extra challenge levels which should add another one or two hours. At £3, that's a steal. 8/10

Puzzle Dimension

A subjective gravity/pathfinding puzzler. It's got a good chunk of levels, a good chunk of ideas, and a good difficulty curve. It doesn't do anything surprising or new, though. Just a good, solid puzzler. 7/10

The Dig

Still playing this one. It's a Lucasarts point and click game made my Spielberg. Not as good as the Indy ones, still good.

Aquaria

Underwater Metroidvania. The usual vocabulary of abilities is rendered irrelevant by movement in all four directions. Instead, a complement of special transformations and abilities is implemented off a pleasing musical system. Another highly polished indie game, and a fine example of the genre, I'm still playing this one.

Alien Swarm

Valve's new freebie is a mash up of Left 4 Dead and Space Hulk. The fun potential is high, and I'm eager to get some friends involved.

Beh

2010-05-25T03:07:00.000+01:00

You know, there is a friend of mine who often links to a blog for people with disabilities, where they basically hammer everyone without a disability for being 'ableist'. Thing is, as someone with some of the conditions they talk about, I find them far more offensive than anyone else. I wonder what they'd do if I told them that.

Vote of No Consequence

2010-05-01T09:19:00.000+01:00

It's amazing how brainwashed some people have become into believing that their vote gives them meaningful influence over the next five years of politics. If they stopped to think about it, they'd realise what a farce it was - How can writing a cross in a box on a piece of paper carry any significant meaning at all?

Similarly, people don't realise how arbitrary our voting system is. There are people - many people, most of them the same group as above - who will condemn someone who doesn't wish to vote for any of the four parties on the ballot. Yet if the Electoral Commission added a 'Protest' box to the ballot, those same people would be fine with people checking it. But whether it is present on the ballot or not is just the whim of a few people in power. It's ridiculous this notion that a protest vote when there is no official option for one is morally wrong, but that a protest vote if it was officially recognised would be completely OK. The fallacy is immediately apparent.

I am, at least, mildly relieved that people are beginning to realise the gaping flaws in First Past the Post, anyway. It's a start.

God, I hate elections.

All Possible Worlds

2010-04-30T09:28:00.000+01:00

I always think of concepts like jars of coloured liquid. Every concept has in it a certain amount of story potential liquid. It might be the case that you have an elegantly crafted story based around a few simple premises which, for all their simplicity, afford you reams of material. Indeed, the really simple ideas are sometimes the richest. But excavating every last corner of the material might undermine the elegance and purity of concept of the story. So you revisit the concept in a later story. Here, then, is a perfectly good idea for writers to bring back good ideas. There's no rehashing, no laziness. Here is a reason predicated on getting as much interesting material into the audience's eye as possible.

Here's one of those ideas, that's really simple, but is a vast ten gallon tank of plot juice: The Holodeck. You know, from Star Trek. Concept: A room in which you can create alternate worlds in full detail. That's simple to explain, immediately grasped. And it is FULL of story concepts. You couldn't hope to cover everything it offers in a single story. There's a richness of ideas there that can only be dug into by many stories, from many angles, in many genres.

So it can't just be left to Star Trek. Here's the issue. It's a common one, I've seen it plenty of times, but here's the specific encounter that has me thinking about it right now. I just listened to the Doctor Who story 'Auld Mortality' (Review here), in which the Doctor is an author using the 'Possibility Generator' to create historical worlds for him to explore, in order to better devise his novels. It's a cracking good story, and most of the reviews have yielded to that view. And yet even the ones that are full of praise for it snark at the 'Possibility Generator' and make silly comments regarding the similarity to the Holodeck. As if it's just a stolen idea parcelled under another name.

What a stupid attitude. Auld Mortality mines a bit of the Holodeck concept plot material that hasn't - and couldn't be - explored in Trek. So such comments are ridiculous. People need to be less precious about ideas, less quick to cry rehash or plagiarism, and start engaging their critical faculties. Because maybe, far from being plagiarism or a rehash, the writer has used this concept because he's seen in it the potential to spin a yarn that's genuinely new. Maintaining that attitude only serves to inhibit the exploration of innovative ideas.

Doctor Who - Blue Forgotten Planet - Review

2010-04-15T11:37:00.000+01:00

And so, the end. It's been, on the whole, a succesful season. It created a great deal of anticipation which would probably have been even stronger if I weren't listening after the fact. But I do think it peaked early and slowly weakened. Now I come to the final story, and it has got its flaws.

One of the great things about Patient Zero was the way that all the aspects of the plot had a bearing on each other, and I think this story really needed that coherency, but lacked it. The Blue Forgotten Planet Project strand had very little to do with Charley's departure, either plotwise or thematically. Similarly, Mila's story didn't really feed into the departure in the end. On top of that, some of the interesting aspects set up by the season just disappear. Mila, we are told, has spent so long with the Doctor she's become an ersatz-Charley, rather than the creepy stalker she was in Patient Zero. Far better it would have been to see the transformation, rather than just hear that it happened during off-screen adventures (and indeed, the change does not ring true as presented, her seeming absolution and acceptance at the end feels off as a result). Likewise, Charley's infection has been cleared up by the Viyrans, when more mileage could have been gained from that (why not have THAT be the virus the Viyrans are dealing with on Earth, for instance?).
A prime example of the disparate nature of the plot strands: the Doctor and Mila only run up against Charley and the Viyrans by sheer coincidence, rather than due to any of the various things that link them which could have provided a stronger tie.

There's also a disappointing tendency to set up all sorts of potentially interesting things and then make nothing of them. I already noted that Mila doesn't get much mileage, and there's various other examples in the plot. The humans are suffering from a condition where they regress to a mad savagery if they don't get the drugs they depend of the Viyrans for. But the specifics of the condition aren't really relevant - the degeneration into savages serves to provide a secondary threat for some action sequences, but otherwise doesn't drive the plot at all. It could have been anything really, a wasting disease, a disease that turned you into daleks (Oh, right), a disease that caused incredible pain, and it would have worked pretty much as well in the plot (except for the base siege action sequence, but that was largely ephemeral anyway). Slightly more is made of the dependency of the humans on the Viyrans, but even then it doesn't figure much. There's really rich ground for thematic exploration here; losing your mind is a horrible but morbidly fascinating concept, it could have been a major theme, but instead it's not really discussed. Likewise blind dependency on a higher power. Or the fact that the humans have lost all memory of the planet's past. Plenty of ripe ideas there. Ignoring the human situation, there's Charley and Mila - loads of questions about the nature of identity spring up, but the plot isn't concerned. Perhaps the one that bothered me the most was Charley's relationship to the Viyrans. She's been doing errands for them in between centures in cryofreeze, popped out to do their dirty work then returned to oblivion. And the Viyran's mission is not exactly palatable. Charley is complicit in five genocides. Why doesn't the story explore that at all? It's rushed past, as, similarly, is the Doctor's breaking the web of time at the end of the story. There's a hint that the Doctor is actually repairing the web from damage somehow related to Charley's time-twisting in the first place, but it's gone before you know it. There a big consequences here, with great dramatic potential, but the play does not acknowledge them.

It seems Nick Briggs didn't want to do a story that did 'issues' though, but more of an action romp. Fair play, that worked great guns in Patient Zero, and for the first half of BFP it does here, too. Unfortunately, the second half seems to require a bit too much technobabble and coincidence to dig itself out of it. (Most clonkingly, the fact that time travel just so happens to be the cure for the disease they've stumbled upon. I mean, really, couldn't it have been worked in any better at all?)

I'll quickly mention one last weakness, then I'll get on to the good stuff. The guest cast are pretty good for the most part, but the characters they're playing are not particularly interesting. They're distinct enough people - sometimes I've found supporting casts in stories like this blur together - but largely uncompelling. Part of the problem is that they're just bland. They could be anyone. This is a group of people who've lived every day with only a weak lifeline linking them to their sanity, and surrounded by exemplars of what they could so easily become. But none of this really seems to have shaped them, they're generic 'crisis survivor' types - the specifics of their situation don't come through in their actions and thoughts. They start out promisingly, though, and get some decent interplay early on which gives them a realism, but as the story progresses the disparity between their situation and their flat behaviour grows. In the second half they're mostly relegated to giving one sentence reactions to each plot point as it passes. Even a fairly significant death doesn't register much.

Still, as I said, this is mostly down to writing and direction, not performance. The acting in the play is pretty tight; nobody is letting the side down, and there are a fair few strong moments from multiple characters. What it really lacks, though, is interplay between Colin and India. As they're seperated for much of the story we don't really get to see them sparking off each other, and it feels missing. Their parting is imminent, so it feels like they should be playing off each other, but they're not, and the absence is noticeable. Colin and India are both on good form, but there is a feeling when, say, the Doctor is talking to Ellen and Ed that, no matter how good Colin is being, he'd be even better if it was a scene with Charley.

That said, I felt India was very good here. She plays Charley more muted than we are used to, somewhat less ebullient due to her new existence as a worker for the Viyrans. She comes off as knowing, a bit jaded, but still Charley - not cynical and depressed. And she contrasts it well against Mila, who's still bouncy and happy as ever. The only time it goes out the window is when the pair meet, and again this might be more down to the writing and direction. Unfortunately all the potential of the Charley-Mila scenes is reduced to the tedious 'No, *I'm* the real one' type bickering that's become very much the cliché in such stories.

A nod should also be made to Michael Maloney. The Viyrans are still misappropriating poor Fratalin's voice, so Maloney is back to play them, and he's very good. He makes them sound almost melancholic - they don't want to make any enemies, but they really do need to blow up this planet, and they're faintly sad about it.

Backing up the performances is some great sound design. It's a very rich soundscape that prevents the story ever becoming stagey. The music is superb, although sometimes it seems to swell up during moments when the drama is not similarly coming to a head. The voice modulation on the Viyrans adds to Maloney's already fantastic performance and complements it perfectly.

Ah, the Viyrans! The other real success of the story. They've lost a slight layer of mystery and creepiness in coming to the forefront, but in exchange they've gained the tinge of melancholy mentioned above. Their motivations, now we have a decent grasp of them, are very much alien and interesting to think about. This is one area of the play where the concepts are finally given some examination. They've maintained their intimidating qualities well. Perhaps because they don't gloat or show it off, it's very easy to believe the Viyrans really do possess some pretty phenomenal power. You can totally buy that they would, and do, scan every face of a planets population to locate a disease. Wisely, Briggs has still kept them a step removed from things though - they never have a feel of immediacy - so they still have plenty of mystique to trade on in a potential (and hopefully likely) return.

Finally, the send off itself. First of all: Charley tells the Doctor the truth, at last, and... We get NO reaction at all? The Doctor says nothing as she explains, and then the scene is interrupted by Ed and Ellen. This felt like a resoundingly missed moment. As for the actual departure, I don't know quite what I think of it. I suspect I'll need a relisten to really decide. I do think the understated ending was the way to go, though. It would have been easy to do something really big, but that has all the more chance to fall flat. When I saw the chapter title R101 I wondered if she was ultimately going to die on the airship after all! That would have been quite the twist, but it, or a similar grand exit, could easily have come off feeling overblown. I also like the way it's kept possible that it's actually Mila that has survived, which casts things in a much darker slant. I was hoping that the solution to the tangled timelines would be something clever than a memroy wipe, though, because that was always the obvious and rather predictable way out. My other issue is with the final words between them - I feel they should have been something more personal. As it was, they're something about Mila, who has only just recently become part of the arc, and I would have liked last words which felt like they addressed all of the pair's history. I don't know WHAT I think of the open endedness... It is left very loose.

Ultimately it's a story that feels like too many missed opportunities. It rides on a very strong and exciting build-up, and so it really needs to tie the various strands together satisfactorily, but it doesn't. Instead it adds new and unnecesary aspects which then pull the story apart and leave it feeling under explored. But it's well performed, it sounds great, the Viyrans are undeniably brilliant, and the first two parts are pretty exciting, so it's not a total wash. Provisionally I'd give it around a high 6 or low 7, but I haven't really made my mind up yet.

Doctor Who - Paper Cuts - Review

2010-04-13T07:56:00.001+01:00

This is an enjoyable story, but a lightweight one. The sort of thing I can give a lazy replay to when going to bed, quite happily, but not one that's overly gripping or challenging. As has been noted, in really suffers for its placement; it fails to capitalise at all on the arc connecting the previous and the succeeding story. This seems like a huge mistake. Whilst I'm getting that BF wanted to make a distinct, standalone story to prevent the season feeling like one huge plot, they could have developed one with greater thematic links to what was going on. As it is we get a few interesting moments between Mila and Not-Gomori and little else. In addition, the get-out from the previous cliffhanger is fairly underwhelming, and the time explosion seems to have no greater significance beyond spreading the viruses as we already knew.

Still, let's take it on its own terms. First things first: It is a play of beautiful imagery. Paper warriors, walls that echo memories, tombs in space, chess games. There is an almost poetic quality to the setting here. The visuals in my head were as rich as any I've had with a Big Finish play. Better known for clever plotting than sensual flourishes, this was an unexpected pleasure coming from Platt.

On the other hand, the story isn't quite as thoughtful and smart as Platt is known for. It's a fairly ordinary court intrigue story for the most part, with a few unexpected turns mostly in the final part. I felt that the revelations towards the end were a little underexplained, not fully set up or resolved. It didn't really detract from the story, but there was a slight non-sequitur feel. There was a hint of a 'chess game' structure in the final part, with the Sazou figures freezing when it wasn't there turn and such. This could have been developed further. I've always been a sucker for the battle of wits in stories, and would have enjoyed it more if the Sazou game had been ongoing from part three onwards as a backdrop to events. On the whole it's an amiable, unassuming tale. Enjoyable without being standout.

As others have noted, there is a bit of overacting in the performances, most notably that of Sara Crowe, who is probably the weakest link in the story. The other performances are alright, though there is a distinct lack of subtlety. The Captain, played by John Banks, is perhaps the only one exempt from this, and he makes a fairly simple character feel quite real - the Captain is the best of the Draconian lot. The Prince is a bit shouty and loud most of the time, and also has an odd habit of beginning his scenes calmly, even if he was raging last we saw him. India Fisher is a bit underwhelming here. She puts in an OK showing, but doesn't bring anything of anything much to the script than what's already there, and does nothing with the interesting Mila-Charley set up. (Admittedly, based on the interviews, it seems like Briggs might have specifically told her to act exactly like Charley, which would probably left her feeling a bit stifled, one would imagine.) As with Patient Zero, Colin puts in a good showing, but doesn't hit his A game. He does have a few more sparkling lines than the previous tale, though.

Lastly, a good word for the sound design. Whilst it's very spartan, it is quite effectively so. The rustling of paper is the key sound effect of the play, and everything else is neccesarily muted to suit it. It works well, and the smattering of musical accompaniment is quite pleasant too.

My overall impression is that things might have worked better as a three part story. As it is the pace is very slow - an intentional choice, rather than a poorly structured story, but things may have felt tighter in three parts. This would have also opened up a one-part story in order to explore Mila-Charley a little more, perhaps having Gomori accepting his ride home to Mila's chagrin, setting up a little three-hander in which Mila shows a bit more of herself when she's alone with Gomori and not happy.

As such fancies might indicate, I am a little disappointed with what was actually delivered, but as noted, it isn't so much an inherent problem with the story that prompts such, but rather its unfortunate positioning. Taken alone it's a lighthearted bit of fluff, enjoyable and very much listenable, but largely unremarkable save for some striking visual imagery. 6/10

Doctor Who - Patient Zero - Review

2010-04-12T23:51:00.000+01:00

So, the Doctor is finally confronting Charley about her secrets. There's no way out now! Unless, of course, she suddenly collapses from a mysterious virus. Thus begins the end for Charlotte Pollard, as the Doctor heads to the mysterious Amethyst Station to try and find a cure...

And it's really rather exciting! It definitely has a bit of a 'series finale' grandeur feel to it. It's not a wholly self-contained story, either, but part one of a mini season that looks as if it will all be one long story, in essence. Everything's scaled up, the stakes feel really high. There's a lot of edge of your seat moments.

The appearance of the daleks isn't one of them. Why, oh why, must Big Finish put them on the front cover of every release they're in? It utterly undermines the work the writer puts into their reveal if BF are going to broadcast them in advance. OK, so they sell discs. But the stories WITHOUT daleks sell well enough that surely you could avoid slapping one on the cover just for once?
The other problem with the daleks is simply that... Well... They're daleks. Again. It's only two stories since the last lot. And that one wasn't very good. Big Finish are seriously grindind them into the ground... And there's more next season, too. Dalek fatigue is setting in.
Partially because of that, it was surprising just how good the daleks are here. They're well integrated into the plot, and their story ties into Charley's departure arc. Plus they're not the lacklustre cut-out daleks that populated Enemy the other month. These are real daleks. They're ruthless, terrifying characters. A scene in which the dalek commander blackmails the Doctor is devastatingly effective.
As well as this, we have actual characters among the daleks now. The dalek commander is the epitomal dalek. Utterly relentless, single minded and destructive. The Time Controller on the other hand reinforces the idea that the daleks are actually phenomenally intelligent creatures. A calm, intellectual dalek, he monitors the web of time to maximise the daleks' devastating potential across the continuum. The story is very succesful in portraying the Time Controller as conscientious, intelligent, unwilling to kill the Doctor whilst blind to the consequences, without making him any less of a dalek. He is just as threatening, just as malevolent, but in a more sinister, more thoughtful way that contrasts the Commander.

The other hook is those mysterious Viyrans. We've known about them for a while now, and yet we really don't know anything about them at all. And we still don't! This isn't really a Viyran story, their part is fairly small and late in the game (although their presence is felt throughout). One gets the feeling that Blue Forgotten Planet will be their story. This is just a reminder, to reinforce their existence, hanging over proceedings. To remind us that something is up, and they will be along to fix it one day. And it won't be pleasant.
They're not quite so creepy here as they were in Mission of the Viyrans, but then that story was a horror, whereas this is more action orientated. They're still pretty unusual though, and they definitely come off as being intimidating foes. Quite the enigma, and still rather unsettling - The notion of having them speak only with other characters' voices is a coup. I'll be looking forward to hearing more of them.

Moving down the scale of alien-ness we have Fratalin. A memorable and well realised character from BF, he's made up of 800-odd seperate little selves which can fuse into larger ones. All of them share his voice and personality, but they're not a hive mind, so they can talk amongst themselves.
Fratalin himself(s) is on the surface quite a nice fellow. He's very calm, pleasant in demeanour, and very patient with people. He's also utterly, unshakably dedicated to his cause, which leads him to put the Doctor in some rather unpleasant situations.
Maloney plays him well, there's a real sense of rock-and-a-hard place when he's forced to do some difficult things in service to his conviction. He seems genuinely saddened and apologetic when he is forced to place Charley's wellbeing below the sanctity of his duty. He also inflects the generally calm and reserved character with a strong sense of desperation during the growing tension of part two, as the Doctor desperately tries to force him to abandon his calling. His reaction to losing some of his 'familiars' similarly does well at fleshing out another emotional side of him. It's not a masterpiece performance of great range, by any means, but a solid showing that backs up a good character concept.

The other non-regular character is Mila, and she's an odd one. As a character there's a lot of potential here: She's deranged by two very different ordeals. Sociopathic yet seemingly quite innocent. Possessed of quite phenomenal power to exact vengeance, but apparently not particularly vengeful. And later on, she begins to slide into a different personality altogether.
Jess Robinson is far from bad in the role, but I felt there was potential for more. There could have been some real depth to the character, the suggestion of counterpoint emotions underlying her surface facade. Instead we get what I am sort of inclined to call the 'easy' option. The chipper-psychopath angle isn't new, and its effectiveness is not guaranteed. Here it works alright - moreso early on, when we are less certain who Mila is - but it's not spectacular. Ultimately, Robinson overplays the cheerfulness a little too much for my taste. I thought there was some potential there to have a little bit of acid underneath the sweetness, and a coldness behind the fake warmth.

As to the regulars, they're pretty good. Have Colin and India ever been anything other than pretty good together? No, I don't think so. That said, they're not at their absolute top showing. Colin is a bit more shouty and blunt than usual, and he doesn't get any really resoundingly memorable moments. The first-part cliffhanger is great, but I thought it could have been even better if Colin had been at the very top of his game.

India's a bit of a mixed bag here. Her anxiety regarding her secret seems to have tapered off somewhat since Raincloud Man. Given that we have reached crunch time, she seems to have become a little more relaxed since the last outing, which isn't exactly fitting. She's also not so good at portraying someone suffering terribly from an illness. 'I feel terrible' she says, but she doesn't sound like she does. She groans and mumbles a bit, but it's not the voice of someone who feels like death warmed up. She just sounds like she has a headache, not some monstrous space lurgy.
She's better later, though. Given reign to act a sort of alternate take on Charley she really takes off, much as she did in the Doomwood Curse. She's quite convincing as being New-Charley rather than normal old Charley. On the other hand, when she has to flick back to being normal old Charley, she seems lacking once again. The situation she's in is pretty dire, but there's no great urgency in her performance. Certainly she has sounded more worried in other stories.

As for the plot itself, it's certainly not high minded, conceptual stuff. It's big bangs and daleks and explosions in corridors. It is very fun, though. Probably the best thing Briggs has done since Creatures of Beauty (which was high concept). Everything ties up quite nicely, which is maybe the main thing. With Charley's departure, her secret revealing, daleks and viyrans in the pot it could be quite a mess. Thankfully all the elements are very much related to one another, so there's a great feeling of coherency. And for a story which is actually mostly shouting in corridors, as someone else described it, it feels quite pacy and action packed. It certainly kicks off in the latter half, and the Viyran-Dalek battles are quite exciting.

The sound design is effective, making it easy to picture what's going on without ever throwing up the confusing wall of sound that occaisionally plagues the more action packed stories. It is perhaps a little sparse, though. Sometimes that's inkeeping - it works to set the scene of this enormous, sparse, desolate clinical facility - but it could have maybe used a bit more of an interesting soundscape. Thinking back now I can't recall anything of the incidental music work. Now, I'd rather have something unobtrusive than something jarring, of course, but the really good audios usually have a few strong, memorable cues that reinforce the action.

So, that's Patient Zero. It's a very entertaining beginning to a compelling arc, that leaves me excited to hear what's next, and indeed a little intrepid. Whilst I never found myself hugely invested in her with the Eighth Doctor, she's really grown on me with the Sixth, and her departure will probably pull a few strings.
It's also a refreshingly good dalek romp, thankfully after the so-recent Enemy, and with Plague just around the corner. An 8/10. Onwards to Paper Cuts.

Doctor Who - The Beast Below - Thoughts

2010-04-10T20:50:00.000+01:00

Not quite as out and out fun as last week's, but then, it wasn't really a 'fun' episode.

Pacing seemed off, as if it had been heavily editted, especially at the start. Perhaps the episode originally overran quite a bit?

Ending belaboured its point rather too excessively, and there was a bit of anticlimax after Amy forced the queen to press the button.

Mostly another fine episode, though, if not super-memorable.

Liz Ten (I am amazed this wasn't a pun) wasn't the *greatest* performance we've ever had, and Moffat runs the risk of making all his female characters these spunky amazonwarrior types.

Not sold on Gillan yet. She seemed to be overdoing it and pantomiming quite a bit. Actually moreso than last episode.

Smith's performance is a really odd kettle of fish. He varies between genuine and intentional self-parody, occaisionally lapsing into this sort of massively emphasised enunciation, like the language is unfamiliar to him. He needs to watch this - push it too far and the performance will seem like Smith is contriving it. BUT, if he's careful with it, I think it works well. It's like the Doctor's words feel sort of unfamiliar to him even as he says them, and he's conscious that there's a gap between his language and his self. Plus it's counterpointed by quieter, more 'normal' moments. I've noticed that in between the 'weird' dialogue, Smith's Doctor actually has the most urbane. He uses colloquialisms and talks like any normal guy, as if he's not the Doctor at all. It's the exact opposite of the overstated weirdy performance. I think in this episode he sided a bit too much on the weirdly and could have done with a bit more of the super-normal talk. (I like this weird contradiction. It is odd because it is banal.)

Based on last week's episode, and on those threads I picked from this weeks, it's still too early days to judge this performance, because none of that stuff is heavily dramatic/emotional. Seeing how he adapts to performance to the extremes will ultimately decide how good he is. (It wasn't until we saw Tennant try to handle moments of real anger that it became evident there was a big weakness.)

But then there was (quite unexpectedly) the moment in the dungeon. The Doctor, coldly telling Amy she doesn't get to make choices with him, telling her she's going home, then losing his cool and yelling that nobody human has anything to say to him. And then the follow on, in which he says he'll have to get a new name (this moment, this line, really resounded with me - divesting himself of his name, AGAIN, he is truly disgusted with himself). For me this was a moment of more powerful pain and anger than Tennant ever managed. Now I am really hopeful for Smith's Doctor, and it won't take much more for me to be sold.

The story as a whole was patchy, with odd pacing, but quite good. Maybe a 7/10 or just short thereof. Smith's performance rates higher.

A couple of sidenotes: The design work on this series seems to have been stepped up a notch even as the CGI has stepped down. Also, I like the return to the early Hartnell style of having each story end by beginning the next.

Further thoughts: The Smilers pretty much extraneous. Just there to add a creepy visual monster to proceedings. Never really serve a purpose or gain any explanation. Probably would have worked *better* without the half-smilers. Prior to that they are just creepy-humourous alternative to the hackneyed CCTV police state imagery, with the little trick up their sleeve that they're also the enforcement. Adding the half-smiler line suddenly makes more of them than their presentation can live up to.

Also, why the 'You look Time Lord' retread? This was jarringly unneccesary. Smith seemed to have trouble making it fit in, too.

Appreciated the tying into the Ark in Space timeline.

Did I imagine it, or did they boost the bass in the themetune this week?

Shock and Awe

2010-04-10T12:12:00.000+01:00

Recent(ish) entertainments:

Bioshock - Nothing I have to say hasn't been said. Bioshock has been discussed to death. I agree with the prevailing opinion. This is the best piece of game storytelling I have ever seen. The vision is utterly coherent and manifests in every aspect of the game. The theme is intriguing; the dichotomy of moral and amoral self-interest is a refreshingly new backdrop. The characters are some of the best realised in gaming. Andrew Ryan is one of the best characters in anything. Fascinatingly nuanced, you could discuss him for hours. He passes through idealistic nutjob to moustache-twilring villain to something tragic and almost heroic. The gameplay is rich, too, and shouldn't go unmentioned, letting you tailor your own style quite pleasingly. The only off-note is that silly hacking game.

Lord of War - Odd film. Speaks of executive meddling, I think. It seems to be a mish-mash of different styles, never sure what it wants to be. Ultimately it's a sort of sardonic parody of the arms trade, but it wavers between wanting to play things straight, or amping up the ridiculous elements. The early film is the best, with 80s tunes and snappy pacing, the later parts are never quite so entertaining. There's something moderately enjoyable here, but it's a strange beast. As with Truman and Gattaca, Niccol has at least produced a polished looking piece. Also, it's a Nick Cage film, so you can probably decide whether you'll enjoy it or not based purely on that.

Carter Beats the Devil - Reading this, I was put in mind of Chinatown and the Illusionist. That's no bad thing for what is essentially a noir story about magicians. Despite the touchpoints, it largely feels like its own thing, though, with a distinct atmosphere maintained throughout.
The historical backdrop is very well researched, and you can see this has informed the setting throughout; the San Francisco of the story was very clearly defined in my head by the time I was done. Perhaps even better realised is the world of the stage magicians, and it was a wise choice on Gold's part to play them straight. Rather than try and mystify the nature of the magic shows, he lays out plainly the reality going on backstage. It sets the story apart from the other little clump of stage magic stories from the past few years, which all sought to embellish and fancify the art. In fact, learning what really went into the tricks, you get a far more genuine respect for the guys that did this stuff. Plus, I'm a sucker for historical factual content in my fiction.
Gold has a pretty good mind for characters, and the novel is well populated, but it's true that all the characters are fairly similar in their lifestyles and philosophies. When Gold branches out from the circle of people around Carter, his characters are a bit more charicature, as with the Treasury agents.
It's a good story, anyway. It has a slightly melancholy atmosphere, but punctuated with more upbeat moments that prevent it growing dreary. It does sort of meander, with an odd pacing, and soemtimes it's not entirely clear what things are moving towards. This is, I think, at least partially intentional. The structure of the story evokes a magic trick.
Therein lies the main flaw of the story, though. The story stumbles at the climax. I found myself expecting a grand revelation, but in fact the threads are untangled and stitched up at quite a leisurely pace. The ending also feels a bit sprawling, and in need of tightening up, so ultimately the last few chapters are a mite underwhelming. It's undermined through no fault of its own by skewing in very similar directions as the Illusionist in the last few chapters, too, which is unfortunate. Nonetheless, it's a good book with a great setting and a distinctive feel.
(Sidenote: It's also a book that's been rather heavily hyped, and I don't think this is to its benefit. Much like Carter himself, it is a book which wants its audience to expect little from it.)

Anathem - Wow. This is an amazing book. Speculative fiction at its most speculative. Not just predicated on a single 'What if?', the book keeps asking questions, preparing you for the next one along. It weaves together myriad theories from philosophy and the sciences, throwing in commentaries on a vast array of subjects, a whole fictional world system and clever linguistical flourishes. The depth of material here is astounding; it's a cornucopia of fascinating ideas and concepts, both real-world and fictional.
Astoundingly, Stephenson manages to deliver these ideas with great accessibility. Expecting a heavy read I was surprised just how deftly the themes and concepts are spun out. Stephenson, I suspect, has great clarity of mind, and this comes out in his writing.
The danger with high-spec fiction is that it becomes a series of ideas with no real narrative. Here, though, there is a hugely compelling story. A strong plot gives a solid through line driven by a series of intriguing mysteries, whilst a myriad smaller character arcs and sub stories spin out from it. It's an incredibly detailed word, and Stephenson mines it for compelling story material.
The other danger of such stories is that they will be dry. More than anything that was my expectation for this story. I'm fine with that, though. Brilliant concepts can hold my interest alone. What I didn't expect was the great emotional heart of the novel. Not only is it one of the most cerebrally stimulating books I've read, I was blindsided by just how much feeling there is in it. Certain moments in particular evoked more of a reaction than I am used to getting from a book. The characters are beautifully realised, and even whilst balancing his grand conceptual narrative, Stephenson never fails to devote just as much importance to their loves and hopes and dreams. A great deal of very real humour, pathos, tragedy and fear comes from the strength of the characters.
Perhaps the greatest feat is the way Stephenson has used every element to reinforce every other. An example: The protagonist worries a lot about the future. His teacher seeks to comfort him, but also to educate him. He engages him in a discussion about the future, and his worries, and begins asking why he should worry about some things, and not others. As the discussion goes on it evolves into a theoretical conversation about the ability of the human mind to assess potential futures. Instead of the character beats and the theoretical content treading on each others toes, they're feeding back and forth in a way that flows gloriously.
Along with If On a Winter's Night a Traveller... and The End of Mr Y, this is one of three books I consider to be on a tier above all other books I've read.

I Don't Do Patronising Bullshit

2010-04-08T18:19:00.000+01:00

I was reminded today of a video that aired in the run up to the last election, designed at combatting the drastically low voter turnouts of recent times. Here it is.

I confess, I am pre-empting the government and the media somewhat on this one, but I'd be stunned if we don't hear the same old discussion about voter numbers and non-voters this time out.

But they've missed the point. Not only have they missed the point, they've been arrogant and offensive about it. Faced with a country in which a mere 61.3% of the population turned out to vote at the last general election, the assumption is drawn by the people of power that the non-voters are ignorant, thick-headed plebs who're too thick and too lazy to embrace the wonderous workings of democracy. And what's their answer? To produce a ridiculous television spot which patronises and humiliates the nonvoters, to try and ridicule them into conformity.

Fuck them, because I won't be voting. When the powerholders are sneering and the thickheaded proles who don't know what's good for them, they'll be sneering at me. And I'll bet it's a rare and tiny fragment of them who'll entertain the notion that perhaps I didn't vote because I am *very much* concerned and involved in the political state of the people. Perhaps I didn't vote because I don't wish to give my endorsement in any way to a system of depoliticisation and gross overlegislation. A system where the masses are excluded from the spaces of freedom whilst the powerholders are excluded from spaces of law.
This is what the powerholders need to realise, and what there is scant chance they ever will - That when less than to thirds of the voting populace doesn't turn out, there's not something wrong with them, there's something wrong with you.

And there is another point, which I have split off for sake of clarity, but which is just as important and raises my hackles even more. That ridiculous TV spot, drenched as it is in the arrogance of the powerholders, suggests that those who don't vote, those who don't conform to the system, deserve to be depoliticised. Of course, this arrogance, this view, and in general the whole belief that, in all its forms, power belongs to the power holders is nothing new. It is the heart of the whole digusting mess. This video is just another example, another point where it breaks the surface. But it's enraging, all the same.

And you know who whose attitudes those preposterous charicatures in the video call to mind the most? Politicians.

The Company of Friends - Review

2010-04-07T02:50:00.000+01:00

Oh. Dear. To say I didn't have high hopes for this anyway, it managed to disappoint me impressively. A collection of one part stories featuring companions of the Eighth Doctor from various other spin-off ranges. Having not read the books or comics, I had no idea who Izzy or Fitz were, and whilst I'd previously heard some of Benny on audio, my impression of her was less than favourable. I didn't really know what to expect, but I didn't anticipate anything quite this poor.

Benny's Story - I can't stand Bernice Summerfield. The world-weary 'I have an ex-husband, I drink a lot, I flirt with all men, I have a sarcastic answer for everything' characterisation just makes me wince. I don't find the humour in her stories funny. Not remotely. That said, I know she's massively popular, so I can't really fault BF for including her. I remain baffled at her fandom, though.

Aside from Benny, the story isn't *too* bad, at first. Benny being hired to find a TARDIS key is an intriguing hook, as are Venhella's motivations. Nothing really develops though, and the story becomes more of a jumbled mess as it goes on. 4/10

Fitz's story - Not so bad. Matt diAngelo didn't really get enough time to show much of his interpretation of Fitz, but he was ok and I got the impression he might be quite good in a longer story. The plot is basically one joke stretched out, but the gag is a funny one - The Doctor is the new figurehead of a company's infomercials, but they're using his likeness illlegally. Adding a little more interest to what could have been pure comedy, there's a suggestion the company might be up to nefarious deeds. It's a decent set up, but then the plot seems to run out of material, and fills the gaps with some less well-judged humour. The cleaner, in particular, is poor. Mostly a harmless piece of fluff, with a good start if a rather empty finish. 5/10

Izzy's Story - This is the real dealbreaker for me. This is the story that made me regret a purchase for the first time pretty much ever. The plot, such as it is, is the most cliche, worn out, stereotypical parody of comic book fandom you can imagine. The kid's show 'Arthur' did this story some time in the late 90s (and they did it better). In a couple of places it even becomes, if not offensive, then mildly sigh-inducing. The 'geek' character with thick glasses and bad skin is an image most people have moved on from in the last decade (the fact it's not being played straight doesn't make it any less groan-worthy), and, worse, Izzy asserts that the Courtmaster can't be female because s/he has a female lover - and the Doctor explains that Eugenia is a man's name on the writer's planet, seemingly accepting completely the truth of Izzy's assertion. I thought this was going to be a jab at Izzy's childish naivety, but no, apparently girls can't have relationships with other girls. I mean, I'm not going to be writing to the Daily Mail about this any time soon, but it did have me arching my brow for a moment.
Unfortunately, the story isn't helped by Jemima Rooper's performance. Perhaps simply playing to script, she plays Izzy as a 7 year old. In fact, not even that. She plays a character who is loud, excitable and childish in a way NO real person ever has been. Once more, I'm baffled by the love for this character and this performance. I can see what aspects about Benny people go for, even as they put me off. I can't imagine what people see in Izzy here. On the other hand, I could believe that both the character and the actress are being dragged down by the other elements of the production, so I will give them the benefit of the doubt as regards their merits in other work.
For my money, the joint worst story in the audio range, along with 100 Days of the Doctor. 2/10

Mary's Story - The only really redeeming tale on the disc. The idea that the Eighth Doctor travelled with Mary Shelley is quite intriguing; they seem like they'd make quite a pair. Indeed, the Eighth Doctor seems like he'd spend a lot of time hanging around with people from this era generally. The story finally throws off the air of silliness that pervaded the rest of the collection, and has quite a harsh, stressful atmosphere. This works well. In general it's quite a nice character piece, and does a lot with a few allusions dressed on a single point in a much larger plot. There's a couple of weaknesses, but they're not too bad. The lightning ressurection is pretty macguffiny, but with these shorter stories there's not much scope for anything more. Also, the historical characters end up rather undermined (excepting Mary herself). There's so many of them, each only gets a couple of lines, which, coupled with the slightly preposterous actions they take, leaves them seeming a bit hard to credit, which is a shame. Still, quite an enjoyable little tale. 7/10

Unfortunately, it's not enough to save the collection overall. The whole set I'd rate at about a 4/10. The worst of the anthologies.

The Angel of Scutari - Review

2010-04-04T23:09:00.001+01:00

When this trilogy format showed up for Big Finish I wasn't sure what to make of it. I thought we might be losing out on good standalone stories and getting only serials like Key 2 Time. But I've sampled my first one (I skipped K2T based on reviews), and if they're all like this, I consider myself corrected. Not a trilogy at all, but a genuine mini-season, it really feels like a little season of episodes.

Spanning the Magic Mousetrap, Enemy of the Daleks, and the Angel of Scutari, it delivers the whole range of stories.

The Magic Mousetrap is a 'season opener' that reintroduces us to Ace, Hex and the Doctor, and gives a definite sense of a shifting equilibrium. It's also the weirdy mind-bending episode of the series, and the human sci-fi story. I had been avoiding getting my hopes up, after hearing Forty-Five hailed as a classic and being disappointed, I was worried the same would happen here. After the first part I was still bracing myself for a disappointment. But, no, this genuinely is a minor classic, one that shows the McCoy team are at the best they've ever been and gives them loads to play with. A great opener that sets the 'revamped' tone of these mini-season.

Enemy of the Daleks is less exciting fayre. It's popular with some but I found it really rather poor. It's a future-set, alien world, base-under-siege story. It's also a subpar dalek runaround. With the surfeit of daleks coming around lately they really need to be far more even than a trad runaround. This isn't even that. Noisy and boring. The first episode has some promise but it's never met. The one highlight is Hex. The season is very much an arc for his character, and his scenes are fantastic. They lead us nicely on to...

The Angel of Scutari. Rounding out the series, with a definite sense of 'finale', a pure historical character drama, featuring Florence Nightingale (and, for rather less reason or effect, Lev Tolstoy).

I listened to this one last night and really enjoyed it. Big Finish seem to do some of their best work on pure historicals, and McCoy in particular gets great ones. The Settling, No Man's Land, and now the Angel of Scutari.

I've really become quite interested in Hex since the Settling, and his arc in this mini-season is one of its biggest selling points for me. I didn't much care for Enemy of the Daleks, but I did love Hex's scenes. This is really Hex's play, though, and I found it at its best when we followed his adventures in the hospital. Philip Olivier is a fantastic actor, one of Big Finish's best bits of casting.

The non-Hex stuff wasn't quite so thrilling. It seemed a bit of an empty aside. Ace and Tolstoy felt quite similar to some of Ace's stuff in Colditz, and the Doctor just seemed to be ferrying between his cell and various diplomatic meetings to no real ends. That said, they didn't drag, I enjoyed the scenes, they just didn't seem to be firing on all cylinders like Hex's story.

As for the historical content, I just happened to have read Flashman at the Charge recently, so it was more engaging than it might otherwise have been. I can see how, if you weren't aware of the details, it might be a story that left you a bit cold. However, having been filled in on the details (and even introduced to Willy Russell) by the inimitable Flashy, the setting was a delightful surprise. (I confess I'd thought Scutari was going to be an alien planet or something - my geography is terrible - so a Crimean pure historical was a most unexpected pleasure.)

A great story, BF's run on historicals continues without wavering, and a fantastic story for Hex that ends a fantastic season for Hex. And it really did feel like a season. Now I'm dying to hear the next one, and I only have six months to wait. I feel sorry for those chaps who've already been waiting for eight!

The Magic Mousetrap - 8/10
Enemy of the Daleks - 5/10
The Angel of Scutari - 8/10

Still to come (honest), Anathem, Bioshock, and the return of TV Who. Still need to get my thoughts in order about that, though.

The Doomwood Curse - Review

2010-03-24T02:55:00.000Z

In case any Taminoites read this, I'll note there are some mild spoilers, and you may be able to piece together the revelations early if you read this, but it's not going to ruin anything.

I don't usually write reviews of the Doctor Who audios up purely because I go through so many, they'd crowd everything else out. I happened to have written a short review elsewhere though, so I'll repost it here. This one's interesting and quirky enough to merit attention. By no means a high-concept, mindbending story, but a bit unusual.

The story is a psuedo-historical featuring Dick Turpin, who hadn't previously recieved Who treatment, but the quirk is that it's also a 'psuedo-fictional'. That is to say, the Doctor and Charley don't just encounter the historical Turpin, but the fictional Turpin. The plot involves fiction blurring into reality, you see, and Jac Rayner (the ever reliable) had the smart idea of centering it on character who is both historical and fictional (as an acknowledgement of this, there's a nod to Robin Hood, who might equally have worked, but Turpin is a more interesting choice).

The story is fairly distinctly split down the middle - the first half is a bit of a murder mystery with peculiar goings on. The murders and the peculiarities are solved at the end of part two, however, leading into more of an action romp and a playing with the established concepts in the third and fourth parts.

The first disc (parts one and two) is suitably mystifying. It is a bit disappointing that we have the reveal of what's going on by the end of part two; I was enjoying being baffled. India Fisher really gets to stretch her muscles and enjoy herself in this one, and I enjoyed Geraldine Newman as the quasi-villainous aunt. (She seems to be channeling the old woman from Stones of Venice.)

The second disc I felt wasn't quite as good as the first. With both the murder mystery aspect and the weird phenomena aspect solved, some of the hook was gone. Nonetheless, I rather enjoyed the chase to York - it was quite atmospheric. I felt the climax was a bit rushed and not so strong, although the image of the particles making Turpin grow into a giant in the streets of York was delightfully weirdy B-movie. The Doctor and Eleanor dropping into the fiction in order to catch Turpin was a highlight. It had interesting ramifications and it was a logical progression of the plot. One other thing I felt didn't work too well was the explanation for the particles - they're explained as being a biological phenomena that alters your perceptions, but this isn't inkeeping with their reality warping properties. Of course it's all technobabble really, but I felt this particular explanation wasn't satisfying for the effects we were seeing. I also wasn't keen on the Grel, who are far too comical and pantomime for my tastes. The race, and the concepts, could (and have) been explored and developed further - but not every story needs to be high minded speculative fiction

Overall, enjoyable, quirky, and rather satisfying. 4/5

Coming soon: Bioshock, Anathem, and possibly a rant about the relationship between politics and consumerist big business.

No

2010-03-07T20:05:00.000Z

Miserable. Disgusted, unhappy, uncomfortable and afraid of living in this country. I hate it. I hate the way things are going. Whatever. I should probably not have missed my meds for 10 days.

Red Seas Under Red Skies - A worthy sequel. Lynch is stepping up the serial aspect of his saga. 4.5/5

No more to report.

Nothing to Report

2010-02-12T18:21:00.001Z

No news is not good news. No news is merely no news, and it gives me nothing to write about. Here is some minutae:

In writing:

A second serving of ephemeral pulp fantasy is available here.

Not content with driving to me distraction with script pitches, Big Finish are now soliciting short stories for a compilation Doctor Who short story audiobook. I have one idea already I am about to start work on.

In gaming:

Finished Star Wars: Jedi Knight. It's got a reputation as a classic and it's one it deserves. This is a game that is fantastically enjoyable nearly decades later. It shines on level design, pleasantly reminiscent of the Half-Life series, whilst its weapon set is brilliantly well balanced and the force power element lives up to the expectations of a game with the premise 'Play as a Jedi'. Secrets and a well implemented RPG system give it replay value. The live action cutscenes are pretty lame, but they're simply of their time and they have a certain charm.

Started Max Payne. Stuck on it at the moment, but far enough in to acknowledge that the hardboiled noir pastiche vibe is absolutely inspired. The gameplay, with it's then-uncliché bullet time gunfights is entertaining and pretty slick, though a bit repetitive for my tastes. I intend to finish it if I can get through this one hair-tearing part.

Currently halfway through Bioshock. This will get a full-on rambling write up when I'm finished, but suffice to say it is already cemented as an all-time classic in my mind, and THE best example of game storytelling I have ever seen.

In reading:

Don't laugh, but I'm reading a comedy thriller by Boris Johnson. It's actually highly amusing, and crying out for a screen adaptation. How much of it was written by Boris is of course debatable. Curiously, its biggest detractors appear to be Boris' fans.

In watching:

Newswipe is as good as ever, if not even better. This is the best of Brooker's shows, surpassing the flawed Gameswipe (Brooker may have cut his teeth on games coverage, but he is still out of touch), and bettering Screenwipe by being less ephemeral, and having some real gravity underlying its points.

In the Loop - Anyone who enjoys The Thick of It will of course enjoy this. But it is more than just The Thick of It writ large. The American story is as big as the British one, preventing it becoming Malcolm Tucker goes to Washington. Instead both sides are given equal billing, and whilst there are obvious parallels between them, the Americans have a different vibe and a different story to the British. And of course, it is as hilarious as it has ever been. It's not just Malcolm reeling of the quotable lines, either. Every character gets some really shining notes. My favourite quote might come from Addison (playing essentially a slightly nastier version of Olly): "You speak entirely in parables. You're like a crap jesus." Even Malcolm, the only crossover character (Toby is similar, but distinct, from Olly) is not just a retread of the Thick of It ground, as Capaldi saw fit to try and take him in a new direction for his story in the film, and we see a less secure, shark-in-the-pool Malcolm.

And that is the news as it stands at 18:41.

Inactive Architecture

2010-02-04T06:11:00.001Z

Well, it's out there, now, so I finally feel like I can talk again. Been working on a script pitch for Big Finish over the past week, and I've been somewhat zoned in on it to the exclusion of everything else. But it's done now, and sent, and the deadline is past. It's for the Doctor Who audios, and they open up for new writers so incredibly infrequently this is, like the Scout, kind of a big deal. That is an understatement. I can't put down in words here how big a deal it actually is to me. Suffice to say I am being wracked with anticipation.

The first NEW bit of writing I've done since the pitch-madness was the beginning of a serialised fantasy noir story done to spec for my good friend Leprechaun Features. It's a bit of fluff, nothing more. I made a seperate blog for publishing finished fiction, to keep it distinct. You may find it hyar: www.sufferingfrom.blogspot.com

I'm not sure if I can post up the pitch I sent to Big Finish, so I'll have to keep it under wraps for the time being. I'm sure you're all heartbroken. Sorry.

And Dollhouse. Oh, Dollhouse. The finale was a big step up on Hollow Men, a very weak story that failed to adequately resolve the Boyd reveal and didn't live up to the title of the eponymous poem. It was still entertaining, but ultimately quite disappointing. Epitaph Two (imaginative naming) was a fair bit better. Without the disappointment before it, it'd have been a high to go out on. (Although emotionally, quite the low.) But because it followed Hollow Men, it's own inadequacies seemed more noticeable. Still, Topher's arc is definitely the absolute highlight of this series, and was devestating, and many other characters got satisfying ends as well. (Alpha's was unexpected and lovely, but where was Dominic?)

After Hollow Men I actually wrote my own ending to the series, and revised it a bit after E2. I'm somewhat saddened that I enjoy my own ending far more than Whedon's, and will never get to see it. Alas. The world will never know the wonder of that ending.

I can't write any more, now. I am once again being wracked by the horror and hope of the BF opportunity. Fairwell.

A Game of Thrones

2010-01-26T20:40:00.000Z

In an alternate universe, George RR Martin is famed for his fantasy epic that tells of the fools and jesters in the courts of seven kingdoms, as they plot and scheme to outdo one another for the popularity and renown of having the most contrived jokes. There are few fans who have not read his seminal work, 'A Fame of Groans'.

Sorry.

I am a little disappointed by A Game of Thrones. I was what I expected, in terms of scale and content, but it lacked the 'something special' that I had been led to believe it contained. People talk about it with this hint of awe, and I kept waiting for the book to wow me. It never did. It's political fantasy on a grand scale, but not such a scale as to be truly eye opening. But, then, have I actually finished the story? I was left with the sense that the story was only just beginning. Do I have to read every volume for the magnitude of the thing to really get to me? Perhaps.

I probably will keep reading, because, despite what I have said, I did enjoy it, I am left with quite some interest in where it goes next, and I still think that it has the potential to develop into something that is really special.

Setting aside expectations and disappointments, here's what I made of its content: It's quite a cold, impersonal novel. All of the Northerners are cold, hard people who do not really brook association, or, alternately, they spend their time sullen and miserable. This is obviously intentional, the people of the North reflecting their icy world is an old device and it creates here the atmosphere I'm sure it was intended to. But all the PoV characters save for Tyrion are of this mould, and it does sometimes make it hard to care about them too much.

Eddard is the most rounded character, to an extent he is the 'main' character, and he does show some warmth when talking to Robert early on. But he spends the majority of the story being harangued and beaten down, and after a while I found I was not so interested in him. He's a 'straight as an arrow' type character and mostly responds to everything in exactly the same way, so I found myself somewhat ambivalent over his fate. His story is still among the most interesting of strands, but that is more for the supporting case: Varys, Littlefinger, the mysteriously absent Stannis, the dead Jon Arryn. These characters are all wrapped up in mystery, and after a while reading Eddard's chapters was for interest in them, not him.

The children (Bran, Sansa, Arya) and Catelyn all put me off. Sansa is plot-stupid, and I find it hard to credit just how obtuse she is. She does nothing remotely interesting throughout the story, and rather than have the good grace to merely be ephemeral, is instead actively annoying. Arya is better, but she is such a stereotypical tomboy warrior-princess that I found her somewhat tedious as well. Plus, she throws tantrums perpetually, making her a deeply unlikeable brat. Bran is better, giving a more credible child's-eye view of proceedings than Sansa, but he's also pretty bland, as characters go. There's very little in the way of character to him. Catelyn is just a whiny bitch and I wish she'd shut up. Her sister is even worse and I wanted to hit them both throughout the sections at the Eyrie. I know that's the point, but it dragged on too long, so that irritating characters started to render the book itself irritating. Thankfully her chapters often meander away from her, and the characters she's accompanied by make for more interesting reading (Tyrion, Rodrik, Robb, Littlefinger again).

Robb is actually far more interesting than his mother, and it's quite a shame he never gets his own chapters.

Then there's Jon. Jon I found agreeable, because he actually acted like a person. Plus, he actually spends all his chapters doing interesting things, AND surrounded by interesting and likeable characters. I actually sympathise for Jon when he confronts breaking his oath at the end of the book, long after I stopped caring what became of all the other PoV characters (Except Eddard, but he was dead, and Tyrion, more on him later.) I have a different issue with Jon's sections, not related to characterisation. I'll come to that shortly.

Lastly, there's Tyrion. I think Tyrion probably sold the book to me. I'm not sure I'd have kept my interest were he absent. Tyrion is by far the deepest, most nuance character in the story, and also one who actually acts like a human being. His plot thread is also the longest and most winding, seeing him go North to the wall as a sort of counsellor to Jon, then taking East as Catelyn's captive, rendering him powerless, before finally he comes west again, as an unlikely leader of wildmen. The plot is interesting, and gives Martin a chance to explore all the facets of Tyrion and still leave him quite a curious and intriguing fellow. And now he is going to court! There is no end to the interest that flows from this guy.

This was my main issue - two genuinely interesting characters balanced against one who is enjoyable to read but gets offed before the end and four that I disliked to a greater or lesser degree. Meanwhile fascinating and human characters come and go, and are given only cursory glances. Robert is good to read about, and whilst the story follows he and Eddard, everything is pretty good. But he gets offed at the two-thirds mark too. Varys is deeply interesting, and possibly quite tragic. I hope he was not lying about his motivation toward peace, as that makes him quite an interesting character indeed. But Varys barely shows himself. Littlefinger, too, is quite peculiar. We never find out what his deal is, though I imagine it is coming in a later book. But until we get some glance at the underlying truth of Littlefinger, he is a bit too much of a 'textbook enigmatic' character, mysterious just to be mysterious. I think Martin felt that these characters had to be kept peripheral to maintain the mystery, and if so perhaps he was right, but I did wish we heard more from them.

There's also issues with the plot, and this relates to the character I have yet to mention; Daenerys. Daenerys' plot it only tangentially related to the rest of the story and seems as if it could have been excised completely. It's not even in the same tone as the rest of the story. I sort of get that this is the 'fire', whilst the other characters are the 'ice', and so where the rest of the plot is far more intellectual, this is far more emotional. But it doesn't change the fact that it didn't feel like it belonged. Nevertheless I actually liked all the characters here, who were far more human than the cold Northerners. I am curious as to what is afoot with Jorah, sending letters to Robert yet seeming to honestly care for Daenerys. What I didn't like, at all, was the ending of this strand (and the novel), in which the dragons hatch and Daenerys walks into the fire. The explicit hocus-pocus of this didn't feel like it belonged AT ALL.

The other plot that seemed barely related was Jon and his northern war, with the return of the Others. Whilst I see how Daenerys' story is going to eventually merge into the main story, I don't really see how Jon's will. It seems it will be more a case of 'Oh, and this is happening too', as none of the characters in either half really have any link to the other. (Indeed, most of Jon's story is about HOW he severs all his bonds to what's going on elsewhere.)

Also, what somewhat threw me: Throughout the first half of the novel, it really felt like I was primarily reading a murder mystery, with Eddard playing the 'detective', and everyone keeping secrets and following hidden agendas. Then the truth came out, and everything seemed to be swept aside as if none of it was really important anyway. (The latter third-ish of the book is more a straightforward war story, but it does really pick up the pace and excitement, and so I was not too disappointed that the mystery-thread seemed to come to nothing.)

I suspect though, that the real issue is that I have been tripped up by my assumptions. The series is split into several books, and I naturally assumed they would be at least somewhat episodic. Now I get the impression that that isn't the case. I've just read the first 15% of a story and stopped, which is why the book has no real ending, it's why some plots feel ephemeral, it's why some characters seem not to have been given enough screentime, why I have not yet seen the grandeur I expected, and possibly why I haven't given some of the characters a chance to grow and engender more interest. And possibly it means the Baratheon-bloodline-mystery plot will resurface (with the return of the mysterious Stannis?)

Anyway, I am still sufficiently intrigued, in fact, quite considerably intrigued, and in spite of all else, it was ultimately an enjoyable read, so I will definitely read the next volume.

Crepuscular Squirrel Sandwich

2010-01-20T20:48:00.000Z

Tweaked the blog a bit to make it look more polished. Made myself a banner in photoshop just to amuse myself. Good source images of notepads are unexpectedly hard to find, so I took a reference photo myself. Maybe I will upload it to wikisource and rectify the paucity of such images on the internet. Tried to hack the template around a bit and realised my fragmentary grasp of CSS had completely deserted me. Might see about learning it again, but if I'm going to study some code I'd probably be better served finishing up learning C++, before I lose the notes I was taking before Christmas and have to start again. Come to think of it, I don't know if I can even find the resource I was learning from. For the moment, though, I am quite happy to fill my days with reading, writing, and ar- and video games.

A quick review:

Burn After Reading - Coen Brothers' comedy of errors. Not quite so funny the second time around, but still frequently hysterical, especially towards the end. Brad Pitt is the heart of it and Clooney the bread and butter, but no real weak links. Probably the best scenes feature JK Simmon's CIA official trying to make sense out of a series of insignificant events which have been inflated beyond all importance. Not very deep stuff, but pretty funny.

And now, an early night beckons me; I have been up since 1:20 am.

Stop Writing! I Need More Time!

2010-01-20T05:27:00.000Z

A friend of mine once gave an anguished cry of 'Stop filming, I need more time!' as a stack of DVDs mounted up so high they threatened to cause an avalanche and bury him alive. I'm experiencing much the same with books, at the moment. I bought six more at the weekend, in Waterstones' 'Books of the Decade' 3-for-2, and I could easily have bought nine. The papery precipice of tomes is looming dangerously, and not aided by my chelonially slow reading pace. I have something like 10 books on my immediate reading list, and on top of that, I really want to read Red Seas Under Red Skies (the Locke Lamora follow-on) before the third book in that series comes out later this year. Plus, I really want to avail myself of my brother's comic collection, but each time I finish a book, some internal snobbery forces my hand toward the next 'proper' grimoire in lieu of a 'lesser' comic book. Well, enough of that; once I finish A Game of Thrones, I am going to read Planet Hulk, and my inner elitist can shut the fuck up. I am going to read a series of pretty pictures showing a large green man punching things, and that is all there is to it. After that, I will probably start on Anathem, which has floated to the top of my reading list for two main reasons: One, it looks to provide an exploration of the brilliant concepts I wanted from Thief of Time, but which Pratchett was never going to have given. Two, I fear that if I don't read it soon, Sven may forget all other words in the English language.

I have now drifted wildly far of my point.

'Stop writing!' That was it. There is more to this outcry than the fear of being overcome by mounting literary rockfaces (this has already happened; there are a myriad of books out there I will never get the chance to read). It's also a plea to the writers of serials who feel the need to revisit chapters in their writing history that are already closed.

The latest offender that has come to my attention is Jonathan Stroud, who has announced work on a fourth book about Bartimaeus. He of the Bartimaeus *Trilogy*. Now, the Bart Trilogy is something I've always admired for being an example of a perfectly constructed trilogy. It contains three self-contained stories, and also a powerful arc. Stroud clearly planned everything from the beginning, and used the trilogy structure to accomplish things that couldn't have been done otherwise. And, perhaps most astoundingly, he mounted up tension constantly until a brilliant climax which lived up to the preceding build-up. But now he's adding a fourth book. I should say at this point, I am actually quite excited for this new addition. Stroud's posts on his journal suggest he has spent a long time developing it, and I'm quite hopeful. But no matter how good it is, it will still undermine that perfect trilogy structure, and that capstone ending. Perhaps for this reason I am really hoping that this story will be distanced from the trilogy, linked mostly just by Bartimaeus, and focussing on his character, either as a prequel or a well-distanced sequel. I would actually really like a historical Bartimaeus story, building on his anecdotal footnotes, but I am trying not to get my hopes up, as there is nothing to suggest that this is what it'll be.

On the other hand, there is a book I have no hope for. You've probably heard that Eoin Colfer has produced And Another Thing, the 'final' book in the H2G2 series. Almost the opposite to Stroud's latest, AAT was actually planned for by Adams, and compiled from his notes. But it has been a long time since the other Hitchhiker novels, a time in which people had moved on - nobody was really clamouring for an addition - and besides, the novels were hardly Adams' strongest output. He bemoaned writing them in interviews, and, whilst the first two form a strong suite (notably being the ones that retell the 'traditional' Hitchhiker plot), the later ones meandered in plot and quality quite badly, providing only one really notable strand: that of the hopelessly doomed Agrajag.
Plenty has already been said about this particular case-in-point, so I won't drag on. I would note, though, that I think it would have been much more satisfying had Adams' notes been given the same treatment as The Salmon of Doubt.

Poor Eoin, I am rather ragging on him, but here we go again. I am rather fond of the Artemis Fowl books. They're not perfect - in places contrived and marred by Colfer's eco-warrior agenda - but they are still some of the strongest children's books I've read. (I hold children's books in no lower status to any other, and have no issue comparing them alongside ostensibly 'adult' literature (though arguably neither Stroud nor Adams is), however the majority of children's fiction really is poor, and appears to have been written and published by people who DO feel it only needs aspire to a lesser standard.) Colfer invested the stories with added depth through the interweaving of Irish mythology, cryptography and real-world settings into his plots, as well as broadly-appealing humour and a good sense of character. There was also a refreshingly dark edge to the stories, something fairly rare among kid's books. Here was a kid with no role models and no friends, whose life was devoted to crime, with an almost sociopathic failure to notice consequences that didn't affect him. He's basically antagonistic throughout most of the first book, and still quite shady at times in the second (He SHOOTS HIS FATHER WITH A SNIPER RIFLE). Even in the third book, the supposedly straightened-out Artemis ultimately lets down those close to him.
You'll notice there's a clear character progression there. Again, the first three books form a coherent whole, clearly following a plan from the start. But then Colfer wrote a fourth book. It came out of nowhere and had to go to great pains to explain how it even belonged after the very ending-like ending of the third. Plus, Colfer seemed to have lost his touch with the characteristics that lifted his stories above the average. The humour was now pointedly aimed at children alone, the subtle dark touches eluded him in favour of a few grandiose gestures - unexpectedly killing a major character (spoilers) and bringing back a previous villain driven only by hate - undermined by an excessively nice-and-happy Artemis-and-friends vibe. Plus, the mythology and clever flourishes of previous stories had all but evaporated. It couldn't help but betray its nature as an afterthought, tacked on, forever doomed to live as a red-headed black step-sheep.
And even then, Colfer didn't stop. A fifth and sixth book have since followed, and a seventh coming soon. The fifth book was an improvement on the fourth, showing a return to the the strengths of the initial three, and ending on a surprisingly bleak note that hinted Colfer had a plan once again. (Artemis (with a missing finger) is skipped five years into the future, to find his friends and family all thought he was dead and have gone on in their lives without him.) It wasn't quite enough to make me read the next, however, as I couldn't shake the feeling that the series was becoming an endless episodic morass. (And it seems I'm not alone, as Colfer started making statements about how he wouldn't write any more Fowl for at least 2 years. (Two years which will have soon elapsed, and lo and behold, a seventh book is announced.))

The problem with all of these cases is not that they produce bad books. That is by no means a given, though it is often true. The issue is that they always undermine the serial that they have been tagged on to, sapping the finality of the ending and weakening the structure of the arc. I will offer this in the authors' defense, however: I don't believe that it is always a case of doing it for the money. Authors get attached to characters. It is a hard thing to never write for them again, after even a single story. Devoting time to an arc, which develops and expands characters significantly, is bound to instill a desire to keep writing for them.

And a final footnote (And another thing?): After twenty years, Dianne Wynne Jones has written a third book in the Howl's Moving Castle continuity. So why isn't she guilty of the same crime? Well, because her stories are more like individual episodes taking place within a continuity than they are constant appendices to a finished tale. Castle in the Air is only tangentially related to Howl's Moving Castle, and doesn't step on its toes. In fact, Jones' skill in producing a sequel which delivered what was expected of it as a sequel, and yet is quite a different and original story, is quite the talent. I haven't read The House of Many Ways yet, but I'm hoping she will have accomplished the same again. (Perhaps also worthy of note, the ending of Howl's Moving Castle always suggested that these characters, and the world around them, would go on having adventures, and thus the sequel did not undermine it in the same way as the above examples.)

Gosh, I need to find more words for 'undermine'.

Circling the Center

2010-01-15T23:49:00.000Z

Would I vote Labour if it might unseat the Tories? Or would I still vote Lib-Dem? Or should I find a completely no-hope periphery party that is actually in-line with what I want instead of propogating this big-three choiceless middle ground? Idealism or practicality? Similarly, I have been touting this idea of pushing for a collapse of the bloated and failing systems of government and administration, so something new can rise out of the ruins. But what does that mean for someone dependent on state healthcare and state finance, like me? Probably a rough ride. So if the cracks began to widen, would I actually throw my weight behind it? Or would I stick to my comfortable niche that propagates the broken system? Uncomfortable that I think I know the answer.

Cameron's government is concerning. Older friends are rumbling about things happening again, but I'm too young to remember the first time, so I only have the 'in theory' to go on. Not sure if I really comprehend what changes might be coming. Like I say, concerning.

Different topic - Loup linked a soundbite of Žižek (pretty much his favourite person at the moment) in which he explains the sort of void in which it becomes hard to think if you analayse too far down into the detail. I am deeply familiar with this void, not just in the case of the sciences, which Žižek is using as his example here, but in pretty much ALL cases. Eventually, everything becomes too blurred.

Upbeat: New Dollhouse tonight. A few hours to go. Something to look forward to. Wondering if Whedon can sell THAT ending.

Everyone's a Bastard Who Dies at the End

2010-01-15T20:59:00.000Z

Snow is almost gone.

News is less depressing of late. I'm still seeing portents, but it is not the shockingly unpleasant reading of late November/eary December. I am still disatisfied with the situation, but it is nice to catch a breather, feel that things are less stultifying and impending.

Thought about writing a short satirical piece earlier, but maybe a little too close to home, a little too vitriolic. I could do to lose some cynicism. Would writing this act as catharsis and release, or would it just focus my bitterness into a gritty little pearl? Don't know. Would be nice to write *something*, at least.

Big Finish impressed me again with Nev Fountain's Omega. It may actually be *better* the second time around. There is so much hidden in here, I am sure I haven't mined it all yet. Unfortunately not one I can easily recommend to non-Who fans as with Chimes of Midnight, as it is quite canon heavy.

Was absent mindedly singing a song earlier, then thought about the lyrics and was cut to the quick. That hurt.

A few books I've read recently -

The Lies of Locke Lamora - Caper story about youthful thieves living it up in fantasy Venice, when shit gets real. Really well crafted sense of place and inter-character relationships. Pretty funny in places, too. Everyone's a bastard who ends up dead (spoilers!), but they have redeeming qualities. More on this below.

A Canticle for Leibowitz - Split into three parts. Parts 1 and 2 are incredible, Part 3 seems a little more obvious and unsubtle. Nonetheless, deeply intelligent writing, witty and pithy. A better portrayal of the division between science and religion that probably any other I have seen. This is a book I will remember in twenty years time.

Flashman at the Charge - I haven't finished this, actually. I got distracted and veered off into the above two books, and trying to pick this back up has been like swimming upstream. I'm halfway in, just after the account of the Charge of the Light Brigade. This is probably the best Flashman has been since, well, 'Flashman'. Less fantastical, more historical, with Flash getting caught up in everything whilst trying to avoid anything. I'll probably pick it up idly in a month or two and finish it in a spurt.

Currently I'm on A Game of Thrones, because I think everyone I've spoken to has told me to read it, so I decided to give in. Another fantasy story where everyone is a bastard and they all end up dead. The front cover boasts about how venomous the characters are. This is in vogue at the moment, but it's getting tiresome. Post Lord of the Rings movies, it is a good way to define an identity for your book that isn't an association with that saga, I guess. And maybe after Potter and Rings, people are becoming a little jaded toward heroic fantasy. It needs balance though. Lies of Locke Lamora got this right, portraying the disingenuous and variously unpleasant people of Camorr, but balancing it against the genuine camaraderie and friendship of the gang.

Just discovered I have to go for a medical exam on Sunday. Not for my own health or anything, but so the government can decide whether or not I'm really ill. Did I say I had caught a breather from the stupidity of the system? Hah. There's a joke.

The Year We Make Contact

2010-01-13T04:34:00.000Z

I don't make New Year's Resolutions as I have no resolve, however the New Year's Resolution of my monitor was 1440x900px. In lieu of such things, here are things I'm doing, thinking of doing, and thinking I should be thinking of doing:

Finding a new flat - It's pretty clear I should be getting out. I have decided to go live in York. Now I have to find a place. This is difficult because I neither want to live alone, nor with people I can't stand, and people usually need a flatmate ASAP, and don't want to spend time making friends. Also, I am bad at people. I haven't had much motivation to do this yet.

Writing - Something, anything. My creative side is so withered and dead it is saddening. Every time I have brilliant thought I realise it's really only a brilliant concept, and I have no clue of the realisation. I have this one idea for a weird sci-fi/fairytale/folklore mish-mash thing riffing on verbal tradition and old folk stories mixed with futuristic stuff and language, but it's hard to flesh out a plot. Also plays, I am more hopeful for these. I think I may start work on my adaptation of Borges' Theme of the Traitor and the Hero soon. Been planning it long enough.

Posting - I think things, I discuss them, I intend to write them here, I don't. It's not like I have nothing to say, either.

Socialising - Won't happen til I move to York, so on with that, I guess.

Enough of that. I have been thinking about the election recently. Is there any chance of a Labour majority? I would rather that than a Conservative win, and if I thought there were any chance, I would vote Labour in the hope of it. Otherwise I will be voting Lib Dem. I think a hung parliament with the Lib Dems playing Kingmaker is probably the best I can hope for.

Also, have you been watching Irish politics recently? It's like a Tarantino movie.

On a related note, I originally started this blog because that ornery Irish bastard Gundrea read some of the stuff I'd blathered about gaming and said I should be throwing it up somewhere. That lasted all of two posts where I blithered on about Metroid Prime, and then I turned into a bleeding heart liberal. In honour of the humble origins of this blog, however, I will now proceed to write mindlessly about videogames once again. I actually only started really being a gamer this year, it was at most a casual distraction prior to this. The fact that this year saw me getting a high end PC and living in a household with all major consoles is not coincidental. Here then, is a year in gaming. (Games marked with a * were released this year. Games marked with a ** were released this year, but originally released earlier.) I was gonna go month by month, but I forgot when I played stuff.

Fallout 3 - This is pretty much the first PC game I actually played when it was relatively recent. So inexperienced and naive a gamer was I one year ago. With wide-eyed innocence I stumbled into the post apocalyptic wastelands, and proceeded to become a saintly swashbuckling wanderer of the wilderness, with my huge Supermutant friend at my side who WOULDN'T TAKE THE LETHAL RADIATION DOSE FOR ME THAT FUCKING GREEN WANKER. I haven't played any of the DLC but I found the world really immersive, and it hed me for the whole game. I didn't roam too far and wide, as I found the gameplay was lacklustre. Much tighter resources could have really made the game, but it was still pretty addictive as was, and the world felt very real. Also, the 50s sitcom section was inspired, and a few more touches like that would have made it a classic.

Warhammer Online - They were fixing the gaping flaws when I quit, but too little, too late. But hey, Lego Universe is going to be awesome right? No need to give up on MMOs just yet.

Mirror's Edge - I invented this game. I mean, really, seriously, I envisioned and described a game exactly like this. It was like seeing one of my dreams realised. Heavenly.

World of Goo* - Absolutely brilliant, innovative, challenging, hilariously funny puzzler. Also has a fantastic soundtrack. I only wish it were several times longer.

LittleBigPlanet - This really is impressive for its innovation and carving a new path for games. It feels like something new and exciting. And is also very fun. It's a shame the level editor sacrificed function for gimmicks, though.

Gears of War 2 - IT'S A GIANT WORM! THEY'RE SINKING CITIES WITH A GIANT WORM! That is all.

Echochrome* - Hardly anyone has heard of this amazing gem. It is based on the works of MC Escher, and allows you to mess with perspective to get places. It's really clever, an accurate realisation of Escher's pictures in a gameworld. Also nice violin soundtrack.

Half-Life 2 - Yes, that is how behind the times I am/was. I always scorned the excessive hype. That was a mistake. It really is that good. Episode One was lacklustre, but the level in the dark was very clever. Episode Two was heavenly. Where is Episode 3?

Portal - Nothing I can say hasn't already been said.

Metroid Prime Trilogy** - Alright, alright, I'll shut up about it.

Prototype* - A good game that several flaws prevented from being a brilliant game. A (badly written) review is on my facebook page.

Castle Crashers - Exactly the sort of thing XBLA needs more of. Played this local multiplayer and it was a blast.

Shadow Complex* - Oh wow, this was good. I mean, pick of the year good. Epic and Chair's love letter to Castlevania and Super Metroid (Sorry!) managed to be a crystallisation of the pure goodness in the genre. The gadgets were inspired, especially the foam gun, and the world a veritable labyrinth. Could only have been improved by a better story and acting, but the laughability of the existing one at least added amusement.

'Splosion Man* - A so-so singleplayer game that had a fantastic completely retooled multiplayer mode. The simple one-button control concept was also brilliantly realised. Fear those rising water levels, though.

Team Fortress 2 - What do you know, I actually enjoy competitive multiplayer FPS. But I can only play Scout.

Trine* - 'It's not bad. In fact it's quite gorgeous and innovative and I do intend to finish it because I'm having fun.' Apparently this constitutes a bad write-up, so I will add that it was one of the most pure experiences I've had in a long time, and the RPG elements fit right in and let you actually play to a role. Sheer unadulterated fun.

Dragon Age* - So, it's official, Bioware have perfected the fantasy RPG. If you like RPGs, you'll like this. Otherwise you won't. It's not anything other than a fantasy RPG, it's just the genre, cut and planed and smoothed and polished to perfection. And full of dicks who hate me. My only friend is a golem. FUCK YOU ALISTAIR! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED FRIENDS!

The Operative: No One Lives Forever - Old, this, but good. Takes the Austin Powers type pardoy 60s spy theme and runs with it, turning it into a very respectable stealth game. An underground hit that I'm surprised isn't better known.

The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks* - Technically I'm playing this this year, but who cares? It's disappointing. It still has the basics, but the magic that made Phantom Hourglass an absolute joy is all gone. Worse, it's been replaced by the most excrutiatingly annoying mechanics ever. I am fed up of this game. The first Zelda game I've ever really got bored of before the end. Sad.

House of the Dead: Overkill* - No gameplay to speak of, but the atmosphere is so thick it's sheer fun anyway. The music is hilarious and it baffles me that the unlockable versions have no lyrics.

Plants vs. Zombies* - It's fun. That's ALL. It's not a brilliant, addictive new super craze. And zombies are really, really tired now. Seriously, what is PopCap doing to mind control everyone? Scary people.

Highlights: Trine, Shadow Complex, World of Goo
Disappointment: Zelda

Next up: Something about books. And more Metroid.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2009-12-12T16:13:00.000Z

Hm. I was made somewhat bluntly aware today of a considerable paradigm shift in my personality. I am considerably more invested in the state of things, and also more vociferous about it. Or, put another way, I have become an impotently ranting politico.

One wonders if this shift is all for the good, however. I scanned the BBC headlines earlier, and noticed it was surprisingly full of stories of nutjobs killing people, and also the tedium about Tiger Woods and Avatar. I caught myself feeling relieved and thinking 'Thank God that the morons in power haven't done something newsmakingly revolting today'. Concerning, on multiple levels. (And I still found some things to rant about.)

Things I need to blog about:

Hat Time

Dragon Age

Banning of slang

Why I want Avatar to flop

Just A Snippet

2009-12-05T11:29:00.000Z

Had a few ideas buzzing around lately after a discussion book recommendations. Possibvly something to come of it. Here's a very un-polished introduction to something that could be nothing.

By 1193, King Monaghan had been on the throne of Felin for seven years. The kingdom was one of prosperity and law, though admittedly with more prosperity for the rich, and more laws for the poor. The most significant product of Monaghan's seven year's work was a kingdom that worked. Felin was cohesive. And Monaghan had accomplished this by having a single, clear vision, and being its sole executor. Each word of the law was set down by him alone. Oh, he took advisement and petitions and amendments and pleas for changes this way or that, but he alone heard them, and he decided what of it was incorporated, and in what form. And similarly, he was advised on phrasing and terminology and reference by a counsel of law scholars and judges, the Captain of the Watch and other significant figures; yet he was the final arbiter of every word written, and no single sentence was set without his explicit assent. Thus it was true to say that Monaghan was very much the author of the ordinances of Felin. Of course there had been laws already standing when Monaghan came to power, which could not simply be discarded and replaced overnight. Plus it would have been redundnant to so, as Monaghan would only be replicating much of the terms himself. So it was that for the first year of the King's reign, a counsel of advisors was convened almost continuously to guide the King as he assessed every point of the existing law and amended, excised, retained or refined. And of course, whilst all of this was going on, new laws were constantly being written. Inadequacies in the existing law (as compared to the King's vision) were always being exposed in need of filling. And the whole process was slowed not inconsiderably by the King's unyielding insistence that he would not put his seal to any law whose precise phrasing he had not, at the least, reviewed and validated himself. For three years, the Kingdom was caught in a complicated cat's cradle of legislation. A steadily growing corpus of legal texts emerged which amended and replaced one another until the law attracted comparisons among the court to the obscure and arcane legal system of Ervane and the Lecturers at the University found it as much a headache as their students. Finally, however, the fruit of Monaghan's endeavours emerged. Toward the close of the third year of his reign, the King produced a single, unified text which detailed the entire legal system of the Kingdom, much to the relief of judges and law scholars throughout the cities. It was notable not only as the first time that all the laws had been gathered into a coherent whole, but also as the first time some of those laws had been explicitly committed to text.

With this in mind, it could be said that the King was in a very real way responsible for the fact that, in a few moments time, Theodore Flavet was going to die.

Speechless

2009-11-25T02:43:00.000Z

Sometimes, there are no words. Quite literally so; I saw something earlier that rendered me speechless. I don't even know where to begin with addressing it, it is too perverse for me to even get my head around. My only responses to it were rage and nausea and confusion. Anything I could say about it would be ranting, just venting. A meaningless outburst would serve no purpose, so I have nothing to say about it.

And that's good, I think. The idea that there might be a day when nothing can render me speechless is disturbing in the utmost. I don't want to be able to analyse and comment on everything, to account for and address everything. That's too much like comprehending the perverse thinking on display. When I can't proffer a response, I can at least cling to that as a sign that I am not yet like them. Their world doesn't make sense to me. God help me the day it does. Of course, venting incoherent rage isn't going to change anything. It'll take someone other than me to actually improve things. But I don't know that I want to be able to think like that person. I don't think I want a philosophy that accounts for everything.

By Any Other Name

2009-11-16T20:23:00.000Z

I saw a nonsense article on the BBC news site the other day, in which the Economics editor tried to make the claim that we were no longer living in a capitalist society. Her argument was that with the government bailing out the banks, we no longer met the definition of capitalism, which required laissez-faire government. Well, bollocks to that. What a stupid semantic argument to completely miss anything relevant or of worth.

There is no such thing as true capitalism, or true communism, or true anything else in a working world. A practical economic system will never equate precisely to the theoretical model, because no model has yet been conceived that can account for all the chaos of a human element and all the unpredictable eventualities of life. It's unsurprising, though, that those people who do try and reduce the boundless and most definitely irreducible problem of life to a few pages of economic modelling are now crowing meaningless arguments that we no longer meet the definition, no longer adhere to the model, and therefore are no longer of that system.

What's relevant is the underlying principles of the system, and the tenets of the economy have not changed one bit. The economy is now, exactly as it was previously, underpinned by the reduction of everything to commodity. All things have to be precisely defined in what they are, in order that they may be assigned specific value. Everything is reduced to precisely defined value-packages, and each individual element of a thing is itself reduced to component value-packages. This is exemplified nicely in the buying out of shareholders. Each individual interest in a product or service does not share in the whole of the thing, but instead has their own slice, of carefully defined parameters, which can be assigned specific value and purchased from them. It's also no coincidence that this closely mirrors the urge to reduce a person to a series of metrics, the two are intertwined; we fast approach the day when we will have to assert ownership of our own eyes, or fingerprints, lest we are expropriated of it.

The other aspect of the economy, correspondent with the commoditisation of everything, is the assignation of ownership to all things. Everything must belong, there must always be a person who holds the power to any thing – because ownership is equal to power. This is why everything need its owner, so we know who it is who can dictate how that thing is used, how we may interact with it, even what the thing is.

There was another story in the news the same say as the capitalism article. It mentioned that police-seized computers were continuing to be held to serve the interests of FACT, a private interest. As a friend indicated, this reveals the falsity in the 'freedoms' we are given by the power-holders. Expropriating his words for a moment:

What the computer fiasco shows is that, for example, the ‘right to your own private property’ is an everyday assumption masking what is actually only *permission* to keep and use what remains at all times open to the possibility of sequestration by police (acting on behalf, here, of other private corporations). Nothing you ‘own’ privately cannot be forcefully taken away from you under the reign of speculative investigative powers. [...] This is the paradigm on which the above kind of interventionism is premised: the possibility that copyright-infringing material might be found on a computer system is enough to seize hold of it indefinitely, the possibility that Iraq might house underground weapons bunkers the first Bush administration overlooked is enough to invade it and change it irrevocably, the possibility that a foreign-looking man running in the London Underground could be a suicide bomber is enough to gun him down fatally, the possibility that someone is a terrorist is enough to detain them without due legal process, render them or submit them torture, etc. In each case a state, police or corporate claim to a right (copyrights, rights to regulate arms, rights to act on suspicion, rights to suspend international law) privileges itself in order to suspend other rights, which are thus revealed to be mere permissions (permission to use media, permission to defend oneself, permission to use public transport, be foreign-looking, be protected under international laws, etc., etc.) that can at any time be withdrawn.

It is in fact the power-holders (primarily I mean the government, but there are some others in this group) who hold all the power over anything we allow to be commoditised, and that power is deferred to us only contingent on investing the power-holders with the power to withdraw it. They are, after all, the power-holders.

If you really want to argue that there is no capitalism, look to the fact that the individual is not the owner of his belongings, but is rather holding only a permitted stewardship. If we are not living under capitalism, it is because the power-holders are the owners of all commodities. The economic system we seem to labour under exists only because the power-holders grant the permissions which support it. The system is the same, but the rights it is premised on have been exchanged for provisions.

(I need a better term than power-holder. This is what is meant by sovereign power, right?)

Varia? I 'Ardly Know 'Er!

2009-11-13T01:30:00.000Z

OK, so I'm a little late to the party on this one, given that Metroid Prime: Echoes came out in 2004, and it's now 2009. Still, the release of Metroid Prime: Trilogy gives me an excuse to revisit the year of the Crazy Frog and the birth of Facebook. Joy.

You have to feel a little sorry for Retro Studios. When they saw the reaction to Metroid Prime they must have known they were doomed with all the inevitability of an oyster seeing an epiglottis for the first time. Amid all the hype and celebration, the knowledge that a sequel would be expected of them could only have compared to the knowledge it wouldn't live up to the original.

There's a certain paradox in requiring 'more of the same' of a game that came to prominence by being revolutionary. However, there's very few people in the gaming industry that will let paradox stand in the way of profit, and so Retro were obliged to recapture the impact of their opus in a follow-up. Of course they couldn't hope to succeed, just as Majora's Mask couldn't hope to recapture the impact of Ocarina of Time, and Half-Life 2 couldn't hope to- Oh, right.

It would be remiss not to acknowledge at this point that in a lot of ways, Retro were not just being asked to work miracles, but to work the same miracle twice, much like if Jesus had somehow stumbled into doing magic at a kids' birthday party. Long before Metroid Prime, the franchise had already created a classic in Super Metroid, a legend of the platformer genre. Now, eight years later, Retro was catching scorn and derision from the fanbase and the gaming press for their belated and unrecognisable sequel. At least, prior to release. Once it was out, it was the very changes that made it unrecognisable that allowed it to achieve the same acclaim and lasting appeal as its predecessor. Prime was a wildly different beast, not least because it had moved the previously 2D series into 3D. But there was no way Echoes would be able to make such radical changes.

Now, I tend to feel that if the human race was put on this planet for a particular reason, that reason was quite probably to create the original Metroid Prime, so I approached Echoes with some trepidation. Indeed, so trepid* was I that I actually avoided buying it for several years. Still, the promise of playing the Prime games with Wii control (FPS being the one of the few things the Wiimote does well) undermined my defences. Well, that and maintaining the delusion that the Wii was more than an electronic desk ornament. How, then, did Echoes stack up, given that playing Metroid Prime is the closest I've come to a religious experience?

Well, actually, once you accept that Echoes is never going to achieve quite the same epiphanic** feeling of the first, it's a pretty worthy successor.

Plotwise the game kicks off with the Space Pirates descending on Aether to harvest it of Phazon, having discovered it in the previous game. A GFC squad pursues them, but loses contact, and Samus arrives to sort things out. The first hour or so of the game then sees you find the remnants of the GFC force and their base, wiped out by unknown forces. Various cryptic and suggestive messages and discoveries are made (at least if you bother to scan for them), culminating in the discovery of their transport and a video log of their last hours. This is by far the most interesting part of the game, because shortly thereafter the real plot starts up and all of this is promptly forgotten.

It's not only jarring, to see the introductory plot thread so suddenly dropped, but rather disappointing, as the plot that carries you through the rest of the game is as typical a gaming plotline as you're likely to see. It's the old light world/dark world chestnut: A giant plot device hit Planet X, creating a dark twin of the same. Race X (Not the Half-Life one) and Dark Race X go to war, and Race X is wiped out, leaving only one survivor to keep watch until you arrive to take up the job. During the war, Race X and Dark Race X build a temple in each of the four themed zones of Planet X and Dark Planet X. Macguffin Y is stolen from each of Race X's temples and hidden in Dark Race X's temples, and you have to go get it back. But you can't get into any of Dark Race X's temples without first finding the Temple Keys hidden around Dark Planet X. That's it. It really is that stale.

Where Echoes makes up for this is in the microscopic details of the world. Prime's Scan Visor has been expanded, such that almost every object has a multi-paragraph description in the logbook. And somebody put a lot of thought into these logs. Little details are mentioned in one scan, then alluded to later in others. And there's some amusing humorous touches, too, such as when it describes the elaborate locking mechanism on those crates you've been blasting open.

Visually, the game shows the same inconsistencies of design. Much of Aether looks just the same as Tallon IV from the previous game, but without the same breathtaking vistas. I get the feeling the areas of huge open space were meant to create a similar effect, but they were let down by the awful matte painting backgrounds. The further you go through the game, the more the design distinguishes itself, although whether it looks the same or different, it rarely looks as memorable as Tallon. Still, it IS very pretty. It's just a shame that the sense of place and atmosphere that defined Prime is gone. There is one moment that gives you pause, and that's your first entrance into the Sanctuary Fortress. It's a pretty jaw-dropping sight. Most of that effect, however, is due to the fact that it's glaringly inconsistent with the world around it. Having spent the game trekking through swamps and desert canyons where nature runs wild, and technology protrudes here and there in the form of hefty, weathered machinery, you find yourself suddenly on the side of some sort of holographic mountain. Suddenly everything is glowing and shiny and huge and neon green is incredibly predominant. It's like turning a corner in Tatooine and finding yourself in the Machine City. And what's the plot explanation for this place? If the Luminoth had this kind of technology, why didn't they deploy it across the rest of their planet? Seriously, what the hell? Why did they limit the killer robots to a single mountain?

The other issue with the visual design is the dark world. It's purple. I mean, really, very purple. I'm not sure there's anything there that isn't purple. Except maybe the things that are red. I get that purple encodes 'dark' really well for communicating things visually to an audience, but I think you can credit them with enough intelligence not to think: 'Woah, some green. Boy was I wrong about this place!' Or maybe not. I never can tell.

So that's all that stuff. But story elements were never what defined Metroid, so how's the gameplay? Well... Inspired. Sort of. When you're on Aether the game is a joy. A lot of thought clearly went into it, and you find yourself moving from one brilliantly crafted set piece to another. Of particular note is pretty much every single morph ball section of the game. These are some of the most sublime platforming in pretty much any game ever made. Whilst there's not quite the same density of brilliant puzzles and plaforms on foot, the game provides some truly inspired enemies to fight. Many of these are found in Sanctuary Fortress, where some of the enemies are as well thought out as other games' minibosses. The prevalent quadruped drone is a decent opponent, one you actually feel the need to deal with, and taking him out requires making good use of your full array of skills. The Ingsmashers are another fantastic enemy who just feel really fun. Perhaps my favourite is the Rezbit, though. These bizarre creatures are little floating clouds of graphic anomalies. They have a huge host of attacks for a standard enemy, and one in particular is inspired. The Rezbit projects an electromagnet pulse that sends Samus' power suit offline, requiring a system reboot. (Squeezing three buttons at once.) Once you do that, your screen and abilities come back online, and systems diagnostic text scrolls across the HUD. It's one of the most immerse and original attacks I've seen in a game.

The bosses continue Prime's trend of being brilliant. Whilst they're perhaps not quite as memorable as the original game's, there are a LOT more – Echoes must have something like 25 bosses, all told – and all are great fights. Highlights include a Shadow of the Collosus-esque fight against an enormous version of the quadruped drones, which comes late in the game and requires you to use a variety of different skills, and multiple fights in morph ball form, which are as inspired as everything else you do in it. Then there's the recurring threat of Dark Samus. Conceptually perhaps not the most ground breaking of creations, but effectively deployed such that her appearance always causes a prickle along the spine. And she has awesome theme music.

Unfortunately this all falls slightly flat when you head through to Dark Aether. The dark world mechanic is already pretty hackneyed, and Echoes use of it shows about as much invention as calling it 'Dark Aether'. The dark world is very nearly an exact mirror of the normal one, except with all the interesting stuff stripped out and replaced by a very small palette of enemies. This leaves the rooms in Dark Aether feeling incredibly cavernous and bare. Whilst this does a lot for the atmosphere of the place (once you get past how purple it is), it does mean there's not a lot there to remember. Still, the upshot of the emptiness is that you tend to blaze through your dark world activities, and they're really not prominent enough to drag you down. Later on, when you return to the dark world hunting the last set of temple keys, you do encounter some slightly more involved areas which at least make up for things a bit.

And that basically sums the game up – It's schizophrenic; bouncing wildly between innovative works of creative genius and by-the-book standards. It leads to a game that has slow moments, and there will probably be times you get tired of it. (For me this happened towards the end of Sanctuary Fortress and again during the scavenger hunt at the end.) But for all that, it maintains a generally good standard, and reaches highs that probably surpass the original for gameplay.

NB. I can't comment on a lot of people's complaints about the irritating boss fights and ammo system, as I understand they were tweaked for Trilogy. I never had any problems, though. Also, the wii control scheme is incredibly fun.

* That is a word.

** So is that.

Super Bonus Section! - Reasons Samus Aran Lost Her Suit

Stolen by Space Pirates
Stolen by parasites
Destroyed in an explosion
Stolen by different parasites
Crying (No, seriously, see the manga.)

I mean, damn, woman, look after your shit.

Initiate Stage Two

2009-11-11T15:06:00.000Z

Just a quick note that my plan for web domination continues apace with a review over at Play This Thing! I didn't actually realise it had gone up until I checked the site today, and was caught a little off-guard since I wrote the review two months ago. This was intended to be the final draft, as I expected some sort of 'OK, we'll post a review' email first, so it's a little scratty. Somewhere down the line I'll probably submit reviews for Citadels and Blueberry Garden (which seriously needs one). I was gonna write one up for Gratuitous Space Battles, as a platform from which to discuss the strategy in strategy games, but someone's already covering that. So maybe expect to see that one here, instead. Suffice to say it's a great game which fulfils a role I've been wanting a game to fill for years. It is pretty expensive though, however it has an active community with modders and frequent dev contact. It's being patched with improvements fairly often, too.

In other news, ideas percolate around. I can't give them all the time they need. Phil Kahn got me started thinking about creating a web comic called Giant Ants, which played off British 1950s and 60s sci fi. Early Doctor Who, Quatermass, Wyndham, etc. Whilst I can see how good that has the potential to be, I don't think I am the right person to realise it. I can't hit the humour notes it requires. Still, I have other projects. I still have a platformer in development, and I had the urge to re-immerse myself in some coding recently, so that my progress. I might also hack together a proper layout for this site.

Should have some proper content up later today, or tomorrow, depending how hooked on Psychonauts I get.

Erfworld Guest Art

2009-11-04T12:33:00.000Z

Just to note that, in a sudden, incredible spurt of creativity, I have reactivated my account here, begun writing, and created my first piece of art since the abysmal depths of GCSE 5+ years ago. Better, it's official guest art for one of Erfworld's Summer Updates, which is pretty sweet. And if only I reactivated this blog two weeks ago I could have had it linked from there, which would have been awesome. Alas.

So, anyway, there is art. I had to teach myself how to draw and photoshop to produce it, and like all art, the vision is constrained by the tools. And now I am done being pretentious so GO HERE and view it!