I Approve of This Game: Kentucky Route Zero

Well, what do we got here?

[UPDATE: This review mentions several times that you can buy the first act of this game for $7. Cardboard (the devs) have since decided to sell them all only as a bundle for simplicity.]

The Short Version:
Less of a game and more of a quirky piece of interactive fiction. You can't die. You can only experience. And for $7 I'd say it's well worth it. Try if you like Myst or The Walking Dead: The Game.

The Long Version:
I've been meaning to branch out from movie reviews for about a week now, if only to establish that this blog can and will cover other mediums. I just haven't known what to branch out to – lots of ideas, nothing firm.

So, to that end, I'm starting by telling you about a delightful point & click adventure called Kentucky Route Zero. It's a game that's about as odd as it sounds. You play as Conway, a delivery truck driver for an antiques shop looking to make a delivery (don't know what or to whom), and in order to do so you need to find the titular Route Zero – a highway which may or may not exist. Not exactly your normal fare for a video game, which is what I found so appealing about it.

The developers – of which there are a grand total of two – have dubbed the experience a "magical realist adventure." Since that didn't mean a whole lot to me I turned to our trusty friend Wikipedia and discovered that Magical Realism is:

"a genre where magic elements are a natural part in an otherwise mundane, realistic environment."

Sounds reasonable enough. Furthermore, it turns out that the pioneer of this genre was none other than Franz Kafka. Now for those of you who don't know, Kafka was a German writer from the early 20th century whose works inspired a whole genre unto itself ("Kafkaesque"), one of the most famous examples of which being Terry Gilliam's Brazil – one of my very favourite films. That's a review for another day but needless to say, I quickly found myself in strangely familiar surroundings – like Luke on Dagobah – in this case, the quiet, leisurely, and somewhat spooky hills of Kentucky.

Next stop, Bizarro World!

Now, unless you've at least driven through Kentucky like I have, it's not something that's easy to convey in words, but without question there is a weird vibe you get in that part of America. It's a similar feeling I get when you go through West Virginia: the land seems very old, very beautiful, and hiding a bunch of secrets. Not necessarily dark ones, but spooky ones all the same. If it sounds like I'm embellishing reality to make for more intriguing writing, I apologize. But I honestly have always felt some... peculiar feelings in that part of the country. Again, nothing sinister. It's too simple, too folksy, and frankly, too religious an area to be terrified of devils hiding in the mountainsides. But I do feel that it's the sort of place where the phrase "there's something in them hills" comes from.

What allows Kentucky Route Zero to establish this familiar-yet-surreal vibe so quickly and thoroughly are three elements that set this game apart from so many other adventure games: the visuals, the music and the writing. First, I'd like to wax on a bit about the visual style.

Lights are on but nobody's home.

The art style is something very unique. In fact, it's the one thing that first caught my attention and drew me to the game. It is not a retro 8- or 16-bit, early Nintendo look as so many smaller-budget games are these days. It's also not another retro-futuristic pixel art endeavour. I like those styles as much as the next person, but they are getting a tad overused. Instead, Kentucky Route Zero opts for an absolute minimalist vector art style. Everything in the game world is constructed of basic shapes and hard lines, without any aliasing – everything looks sharp, defined, even jagged. It's a bold style to do, but the results (as you can see) are striking. It also comes with an unseen side bonus: because it's such a basic visual style, it's very simple for the computer to process, so the game runs on even the most modest PCs. Before I move on I will note that, while the style is very different from most games today, it does have roots in the past. Specifically, the creators themselves have acknowledged taking inspiration from one of my absolute all-time favourite PC games: Another World (Out of This World in North America). 

22 years old. Still awesome.

The second part of the game's trinity of great design is the audio. I said above it was "music" but that might not be the most accurate way of putting it. Certainly, there is music in this game and it's a wonderful blend of quiet electronica, folk, bluegrass and gospel. That's quite the mix. But in addition to the soundtrack that simultaneously heightens the surreal and echoes of Kentucky's past, there is a lot of very simple but very effective sound design. Like the visuals, everything about the sound design is minimalist, but it's impressive that when you're simply staring at a road map of Kentucky to navigate around, with very little in the way of visual cues to tell you what you're looking at, you still get that creeping feeling of being alone on a deserted highway at night.

Seriously, it's more effective than it looks like.

The one bit of audio you might expect to find in an adventure game however, (namely voice overs) is noticeably absent. Which brings me to the final piece of the puzzle that makes this game work so well: writing. This game is all presented through on-screen text. Don't let that scare you off, because really it reveals the true nature of this game (or as I've called it previously, an 'experience'). This game is more like reading a great book. The characters are all eccentric and offer you just enough of their backstory to pull you in, but hold enough back to know that there is a lot more going on with all of them than it seems. In fact it's the writing that becomes the most unusual, and ultimately rewarding piece of gameplay, because you're sort of the story's narrator. I don't want to give away too much, but basically your primary action in the game is choosing different pieces of dialogue. Not just for Conway, our hero, but even for other characters at times. The responses are also more intriguing than the standard yes/no, act the hero/play the villain types of responses. The words you choose begin to build out the backstory for the characters and, in a way, create your own version of the game's story. It also helps that the writing is filled with off-beat, witty remarks and statements. This is not a game that takes itself too seriously – a trap it could have easily fallen into. 

Choose Your Own Adventure: Surreal Edition

There are a few other things you should know before you embark on your journey to find the fabled Route Zero. First, as I said above, you can't die in this game. You can't get stuck. You can't lose. It's a great kind of game for people who don't normally like them. If you're a fan of adventure games, like Myst or The Walking Dead, this game differs in that there are no real puzzles to solve. Nothing impedes your progress except time. And time is something that this game takes its sweet share of. This is a leisurely-paced experience on purpose. I would not say that it's slow, but rather gives you time to drink in your surroundings and lose yourself in the world. While you can't die in the game, there are several unsual, spooky moments that keep up a bit of tension and have you looking at every detail on screen to see if you just saw something or if your eyes were playing tricks. It's not a scary game, not even slightly. Just... eerie, combined with a detached sense of humour. It's like a great ghost story that you could still tell to children and not pay for years of therapy. 

Why are we walking towards the creepy house on the hill?

That being said, those children would likely not have the slightest clue of what's going on anyway. This is not a game where you walk away with everything having made sense. It's a surreal game on purpose. It's also only the first of five acts, which are planned to be released over the course of the year, so the story is for now incomplete. The episodic format is a compelling new development in gaming, pulling you in and making you want more, much like a TV drama does. The game as it stands is quite short – around two hours – but that's not bad for $7.

If I can stand on my soapbox for a moment, these are the type of experiments that I like to support. This was developed initially after a successful Kickstarter campaign, created by two guys in their basement with a unique vision. It's a game unlike most you find out there these days and, by golly, we need fresher ideas than just another first-person shooter set in... who cares where. Lastly, I always feel a little warm and fuzzy inside knowing that I've helped support someone in their dream, as I hope people will support me in mine someday. Like I said, it was only 7 bucks. I've paid more to see two-hour movies that I hated.

I'll leave you now with a one-line pitch, given by the creators. I think it captures the spirit of the game nicely.

"Kentucky Route Zero is not a real highway, so the only way to travel it is to play this game."

This game is available for direct download here.
You can play it on PC, Mac and Linux.
System requirements are almost nonexistent.

My Name is Rick Ames
and I Approve of This Game.

I Approve of This Classic: 2010

He's ba-aaack.

 The Short Version:
While forever languishing in the shadow of its forebear, 2010: The Year We Make Contact remains filled with captivating visuals and above-average intelligence. It's also (in my opinion) the more watchable film.

The Long Version:
The keen-eyed viewer will note that this review is filed under 'Classics'. Since this is my blog, this is not up for debate – though I would understand why some would wish to argue the point. By most standards 2010: The Year We Make Contact (henceforth called: 2010) could be, at best, described as a Cult Classic – appealing to a small but loyal fan base. Since I can be included among them I get to decide what its status is, and I call this movie a Classic.

Not because it's a better movie than 2001. Not because it's, say, in the same league as Raiders of the Lost Ark. But because this movie is a) a very good movie, and b) a touchstone for my childhood.

Let me put it this way: do you have a movie (or movies) that you just have to put on every time you get sick? Every time you stayed home from school was there a movie that you invariably ended up digging out of your collection of VHS's with three movies each on them (because they were awesome that way) and a little bit of scotch tape to cover up that tab so you could record on them and someone (like your dad) had painstakingly edited out all the commercials and all you were left with was a few seconds of the CityTV late night movie intro/outro set to the deep tones of Mark Dailey (rest his soul)?

This was that movie for me.

Last time on: None of This Makes Any Sense...

As I said though, 2010 is in my opinion a great movie, able to stand on its own merits. It will just always be thought of as "that sequel to Stanley Kubrick's immortal 2001: A Space Odyssey." I, however, have an odd history with that series. For starters, I did not see 2001 (beyond a few seconds gleamed from other sources) until the Fall of 1999. I can't really explain why, other than we didn't have a copy of it at home, never bothered to rent it, and, in the intervening years I had been told many times that it was nearly incomprehensible. And filled with long, slow sequences that test the limits of patience. And very little dialogue. 2001 is not a great movie for 6-year-olds. 

2010 on the other hand, is. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that 2001 is boring or needlessly obtuse – though both criticisms have been levelled against it by some over the years. But 2010 doesn't deal with quite so heady topics. Instead it deals with the facts (or lack thereof) from the first film and portrays characters who, like us, are yearning to understand the meaning of it all. In a funny way, 2010 is almost a commentary on the first film. Maybe it was. I do know that Arthur C. Clarke, the writer of the series, differed greatly with Stanley Kubrick in how to deal with the aliens and monoliths. As anyone who has read the novel for 2001, which was written simultaneously with the script (a partnership between Kubrick and Clarke), can tell you it's very different in how explicit it is vesus the film. Yes, most books do give you much more detail than the film versions, but Clarke was very open about how he didn't want the story to remain a total enigma. Which may be why, without Kubrick's involvement in the sequel, Clarke felt he could craft a Space Odyssey film more in line with his books. He certainly had a willing participant in Peter Hyams, the director who took over the reigns. 

Above is the trailer for another cult classic sci-fi film directed by Peter Hyams in 1981 called Outland. It starred a scruffy Sean Connory and was dubbed High Noon in outer space. Which is a pretty accurate description. But it's also a pretty good film and if you watch the trailer you can see the blueprints for what would be (again, in my opinion) Hyams' best film in a very patchy career. 

You spin me right round, baby.

2010 starts with a very ominous recounting of the first film's Greatest Hits and immediately sets the mood for what the movie's mission statement is: find out what the hell happened. I'm not even joking. Roy Scheider's character Dr. Heywood Floyd says exactly that to another character within the first 10-15 minutes of the film. This approach was disappointing for many (I assume) because it sought to strip away the powerful mystery of the original. I however find that approach very understandable. The desire to know, to unravel mysteries is ingrained in all of us, especially if you're a scientist. I mean just look at fans of Lost. 

So begins a bit of a shaky introduction that includes an awesomely ancient laptop, Scheider rocking a wicked tan, a dolphin and more than a few unsubtle hints that, though this takes place in the (then) future, the problems of the mid-80s were (are?) still very much with us. [Aside: It's fun and also very hard to know which tense to use when writing about a then-future movie that now takes place in the past]. I'm speaking of course about the Cold War and everyone's favourite 80's villain: the Ruskies.

It's difficult to recall now, with over 28 years of perspective, just how real Cold War tensions felt back then. But I'm sure in 1984 (an auspicious year to begin with) that it was very conceivable that these two super powers would be at odds for years or decades to come. This was also part of Clarke's novel, Odyssey Two, so Hyams can hardly be accused of sensationalizing the source material. Regardless of how antiquated it may seem, the dynamic of two crews of scientists, engineers and astronauts from opposing sides forming an uneasy alliance for a greater cause, the search for truth, makes for good old-fashioned tension. Especially when your "villains" can be played by the likes of her:

100% Helen Mirren. 100% 80s hair.

Yes, that's Helen Mirren and she delightfully brings up two points. The first is that this movie has no traditional villains. Or heroes for that matter. The Russians, while very proud of themselves and do occasionally slip into Cold War-speak, are equally as professional, knowledgeable and human. Our lead "hero," Heywood Floyd is not entirely scrupulous himself, making the standard protagonist/antagonist makeup blurrier than usual – especially for an 80s film. The second point Ms. Mirren brings up is that the cast is rather excellent. Besides herself we have Bob Balaban (everything, Russell Dalrymple in Seinfeld), John Lithgow (everything, evil jerk from Dexter), Elya Baskin (loads of stuff, always Russian) and, of course, Roy Scheider. This film actually completes something of a great Scheider Trilogy from my childhood, rounded out by Jaws and The French Connection. If you watch them all together you get just about all you'd ever need from the movies.

What are you doing in my movie?

Two more performers must be recognized. The first is Keir Dullea, reprising his role as David Bowman, now much more Star Child-y. This continuity from the first film gives 2010 more legitimacy as a sequel than it might otherwise have had. Bowman is the embodiment of all that remains impenetrable from 2001. He's rarely the same age twice. He moves at absolute will. He appears at critical moments, only to deliver obtuse hints to the confounded characters. So what makes Keir's reappearance so much more authentic is the fact that he looks eerily the same as he did 17 years prior. Honestly, there are moments in wider shots where he looks like they've just thawed him out for the film. But as cryogenically-impressive as Keir may have been, he had nothing on this guy:

The future history of CRT TV monitors!

The most memorably homicidal computer in cinema history was back. If for no other reason, the chance to further explore the insanity within HAL 9000's silicon soul is why 2010 should have been made. And the answer to the riddle of his killer instincts that Hyams and Co. present is a rather simple, elegant one. Bringing this talking red light back to life was, once again, the soft and delightfully creepy voice of Douglas Rain. If Keir Dullea didn't look like he'd aged in 17 years, Douglas Rain sounded like he had never left the deck of the Discovery. As a boy, I never once thought of HAL as a performance – Douglas' voice never entered into the equation for me. To me, he simply was: a computer, a genius, an egotist, a ticking time bomb. I don't recall as a child of ever being more simultaneously fascinated and afraid of a character in a movie. Sure there are always the Freddy Krugers out there, but they're not as interesting as a guy who may save your life or snuff it out, depending on his mood.

I do realize that I'm going on quite a bit about this film and I've hardly talked about it in any detail. Such is my love for it: I could talk about it endlessly and never run dry of things to say. For instance, I wonder what it must have felt like to be told "Hey, great news you're doing the sequel to 2001"? Talk about colossal shoes to fill. Hyams has admitted that he idolized Kubrick and sought out his approval for taking over the series. At one point Kubrick apparently rebuffed him, but then later told him to relax and "go do your own movie." I think that advice sunk in. If you look at this film, Hyams took what Clarke had written, some blueprints that Kubrick laid down, and a healthy dose of his own sci-fi sensibilities from Outland. And you know what? It works.

Hey, what's that in the mirror?

It's not perfect, but it's not a retread of 2001 either. It has some incredible sights that will forever stick in my memory. It's an excellent argument in the Practical Effects vs. CGI debate. I do not think the effects would be any better if digitally generated. It's also an unusual entry in the hard sci-fi vs. fantasy sci-fi debate. 2001 was firmly planted in hard sci-fi – plausible technology, no sound in space. 2010 is somewhere left of centre. Not entirely hard sci-fi, but not totally fanciful. And while Hyams does have sound in space, he uses it very effectively. In several sequences he contrasts the quiet emptiness of space with very harsh sounds inside the ship or inside a certain someone's space helmet.

I'm cramming as many anecdotes as I can before I'm forced to cut myself off. For your sake, that time is now. I've explained as best I can why this movie is a classic for me. Frankly, it's kind of like trying to capture all the feelings you had when you met your first love. It's not something that should be easily quantified. Instead, I strongly encourage you to watch it – maybe for the first time, maybe for the umpteenth time. To that end, I leave you with one of, but not the, best sequences in the movie: science, exploration, the unknown, harsh contrast of sound, terse dialogue, building tension, and still not exactly explaining what's going on. That about sums this movie up.

My Name is Rick Ames
and I Approve of This Classic

[Note: I couldn't find my favourite sequence (the space walk) on YouTube, so you'll just have to check it out for yourself. I'm sorry to report that this film is, as yet, not available on Netflix.]

I Approve of This Movie: The Amazing Spider-Man

Look Out! Here comes the Spider-Man. Again.

The Short Version:
One of the strongest arguments for the legitimacy of reboots to date. This movie made me look at the Tobey Maguire era in a whole new light. And what I found there was lacking.

The Long Version:
Hooray! We're back to movies that have long left theatres!
Boo! We're back to only mildly relevant reviews!

Yes, after renting this movie from the Hamilton Public Library (Woo! Big shout out to my government-funded video store!) I felt that I just couldn't help writing a review. Why? Because not unlike The Hobbit, this was another movie that faced some pretty stiff pessimism before it was released. And this time it wasn't just from movie nerds like me, oh no, this was from Mr. & Mrs. John-Q-Public. Their collective refrain seemed to be: "Why do we need a completely new Spider-Man movie so soon after the other ones?" It's a fair point, and one I hope to help unpack over the course of this review. Because after having thought the same thing and then seeing this movie, I have a rather radical thesis:

We did need a completely new Spider-Man movie

Bam! Controversy and I'm only a few reviews in. But before anyone breaks out the pitchforks allow me to explain a few things. Firstly, I do still quite like the Sam Raimi/Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movies. The first one was good but my appreciation of it has diminished over time as many things haven't held up that well, especially a lot of the cheesier bits. In truth, they didn't hold up too well the first time. The second movie was everything a sequel should be: better in every way. It still wasn't perfect, but it was at the time the best superhero movie I had seen. That since has changed quite a bit, but that shouldn't take away from its status as a great film. The third one... well it had one of the best trailers I had seen. So good in fact that I was beyond hyped for that movie. The end result... well it was ok the first time and every time since has only made it appear worse. Also I have a confession to make: I never really liked Kirsten Dunst as Mary Jane Watson. In fact, I'm rather ambivalent to her performances in most movies. She's not a terrible actress by my count, but she rubs me the wrong way for some reason. With all that in mind, let's look at how The Amazing Spider-Man clears the palette while addressing the skepticism it faced.

Looks the same.

The challenge any creative team trying to put their own spin (ugh. sorry.) on Spider-Man is going to face is that: Spider-Man is Spider-Man is Spider-Man. Of all superheroes he is consistently in the top 3 of Most Recognizable, Most Well-Known Origin, Most Colourful Rogues Gallery. With the average person being so familiar with the character and his world it was always going to be tough to bring something fresh to the big screen – especially when he was only gone from cinemas for 5 years. To bring the character back not as a continuation of that series but as a reboot did seem, at best a bad decision on Sony's part and at worst, a shameless cash grab. Another seemingly stupid decision was to hand over the reigns to Marc Webb (oh, the irony). Webb was only known at this point for making a sweet, successful little indie film called (500) Days of Summer, featuring then soon-to-be-breakout stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel. The problem was that this film gave no indication that Webb would be at all capable of handling an effects-heavy summer blockbuster. The last time this situation had arisen it resulted in this car wreck. Fortunately, Marc Webb immediately started to show  that it looked like he knew what he was doing.

Web Shooters. Yes.

It was quickly revealed through the old interwebs that Spidey, this time around, would be back to his classic mechanical web shooters, as opposed to the organic ones Tobey Maguire used. The average viewer may say "so what?" but this was a very smart move to appease the hardcore fan boys of the comics, because organic web shooters had come out of nowhere. Allow me to digress for a moment.

Warning: Digression In Progress

You may skip down, having lost no vital information.

Ok. Mechanical vs. Organic. First, why did Sam Raimi feel the need to change the origin of Spidey's webs? Because he couldn't believe in the technology. He felt it seemed impossible and if he were to instead include web shooting as part of the set of powers granted Peter Parker by that radioactive spider it would make more sense. But the challenge is that, inevitably in every Spider-Man story, Peter always ends up running out of web at a critical moment. This happend in Spider-Man 2 and because they were organic it needed to be explained away by psychosomatic issues. Having mechanical shooters means that if he runs out of web, it's for a very legitimate reason. The other benefit of having Peter build his web shooters is it shows what a genius the boy is. It tells the viewer that "Hey, if that kid can build those, what can't he do?" That's called credibility. And in superhero movies especially, where we're asked to take a lot of things for granted, it matters.

And we're back. Marc Webb's next smart move was to cast Peter Parker very carefully. Make no mistake, Tobey Maguire did a good job of capturing a lot of the character, he just didn't capture everything. In casting Andrew Garfield (who is himself a huge Spider-Man fan) he hit on yet another actor who was just coming off a breakout role in The Social Network who would bring something that none of the Sam Raimi films captured: the snark. Spider-Man has always fired off zingers as fast as he shoots webs. It's one of his defining characteristics, partly because he's a teenager with incredible powers so obviously he'd be a bit of a wise-ass, and partly because it keeps his enemies off-balance. Wit is just as much a part of Peter Parker as any of his other strengths. And, frankly, Tobey Maguire never cut the mustard on that front. Oh sure, the writers put in lines of varying quality for him to throw out, but Tobey's soft tones never put any zing on them. 

"Don't hurt me with your butter knife, Mr. Scary Carjacker"

Another aspect that Garfield captured perfectly without having to do anything was his size. He's a skinny, lanky kid. There have been many visual interpretations of Spidey over the 50+ years he's been around, but in my mind he'll always be on the smaller, slighter side. Sure, the spider bite gave him incredible strength, but he's still a string bean in my book. This physicality dovetails into another aspect of the character that I feel Marc Webb got more right than Sam Raimi: being a nimble little minx.

Don't think I have a hate on for Raimi's work, as I've been a fan of his for ages now. Army of Darkness remains one of my all-time favourite movies. But the stunt and wire work in his Spider-Man movies didn't capture that impossible-to-catch, 10x-the-agility-of-a-gymnast feeling that Spider-Man should have. The guy is slippery. That's how he survives half the time, because nearly all of his nemeses are huge compared to him. 

Yet another aspect that was improved was the sense of movement when Spidey is swinging through New York. I admit, a lot of this is due to the fact that technology continues to improve and the CGI in this film is superior to the original trilogy. Nevertheless, if you're looking for arguments as to why this movie should exist, it needs to be considered. 

Gwen Stacy > Mary Jane Watson. Controversy!

I was talking before about smart casting. Here again we have another example of why this movie is superior to the previous ones. No, not just because I like Emma Stone better than Kirsten Dunst or because I think she's the better actress (I do. And she is). The chemistry (ugh. more puns?) between Emma and Andrew is absolutely magnetic. They are the perfect high school couple.

Side Note: 

Another complaint fans had was the announcement of Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy. Not because they didn't like her, but because she had only been seen as a redhead and Gwen has always been blonde. The joke was on them though, because Emma is a natural blonde, and had kept getting cast for her red hair, so she'd just kept dying it.

I've always felt that Mary Jane Watson, for all her appealing qualities as a character, is not the right fit for Peter Parker because, as I said, Peter's a genius and that's hard to be around. In the case of Gwen Stacy, though, we have a woman who may be as smart, if not smarter than Peter. That's something. I prefer female characters to not rely solely on their feminine charms. And all of this is not to mention that something terrible hangs over the head of this girl's future for those who know the comic history. That immediately makes her a more interesting, more compelling addition to the movie franchise.
And then there's this guy:

This is not going to end well.

Again. Smart. Curt Connors is one of the most sympathetic villains in the Spider-Man universe, and having his story be tied to what happened to Peter's parents was an interesting take. Rhys Ifans gives a very solid performance – imbuing the character with equal parts tragedy and hubris. I've always liked his work, yes, starting with Notting Hill. The inclusion of The Lizard can't be wholly attributed to The Amazing Spider-Man as an advantage because any Spider-Man movie could have used the character. In fact, Sam Raimi did include the one-armed scientist in his series, he just never became a villain in those movies. But his use here was smart and well executed because his creation could be laid, partly, at Peter's feet which raised the stakes and made for more of an emotional punch. And everyone knows that Peter Parker is Marvel's punching bag. Everything bad always happens to him. And it's always his fault.

So to put all of this together, here's a list of things The Amazing Spider-Man did better (in this man's opinion) than the previous series:
• Mechanical Web Shooters
• Snark, vastly improved
• Agility, better realized
• Swinging, looks cooler
• Love interest, better chosen
• Villain, tied more to Hero's story
• 100% less Kirsten Dunst

Haha, okay that last one may being going a bit far, but I think the list speaks for itself. While this movie does not completely render the previous series obsolete, it does improve on it in virtually every single way. Except one. James Horner wrote a nice, appropriate superhero score for this film. But Danny Elfman's was better.

That's it. I hope you'll watch it. If you watched it, I hope you enjoyed it. If you enjoyed it, I hope this helps illuminate some of the reasons why that was. And with that, I'll leave you with a scene that pretty much sums all this up. Until next time, True Believers!

CROTCH!

My Name is Rick Ames
and I Approve of This Movie

I Approve of This Movie: The Hobbit

Off we go again.

The Short Version:
If you have more than a passing love of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, in particular The Fellowship of the Ring, you will love this movie. Probably. You should anyways.

The Long Version:
What's this? A movie that's still in (some) theatres and Rick is reviewing it?! Yes, dear faithful reader(s), I've decided I had better hurry up and write a (somewhat) recent review before this blog becomes a time machine.

That being said, this will not be a straight review in the strictest sense. This is more of an attempt to create a convincing argument as to why this movie overcomes the heavy amount of criticism and/or naysaying thrown at it. I say this because that's what happened to me when I saw it.

After seeing the first trailer for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, I would describe my reaction as: Pleased? Satisfied? Excited-but-not-to-the-same-level-as-other-movies-coming-out? I can't quite put my finger on what exactly it was, but it was a positive reaction met with a little doubt. Kind of like seeing an old friend again, but they have a slightly different look and you're still deciding if you like it or not.

Not long after that, however, the deluge began. To the average movie fan who doesn't spend at least several hours a week checking up on new movie buzz the sudden onslaught of pessimism may have gone unnoticed. To fans like myself, it was unavoidable. It was a source of much debate and conversation between my colleagues and I. The highlights were as such:

• Jackson filmed it at 40 frames per second. Why would he do that? Won't it look terrible? Like old British TV terrible?
• It's going to be in 3D. Seriously? Do we really need another crappy 3D conversion that costs more money to see?
• It was two movies. Now Jackson's splitting it into three. What?! The Hobbit is shorter than any of the Lord of the Rings books and somehow it's going to be three movies?? Are there going to be five-minute scenes of just walking???

Hehe... that woulda been funny. But seriously now, there were a lot of objections to this movie long before it ever hit theatres. And honestly, most of them seemed very valid. It did look like Peter Jackson was being a bit too indulgent with this film. Most agree that his Lord of the Rings trilogy is an unqualified triumph of epic filmmaking, and I feel that many fans couldn't understand why he would want to mess with a formula that worked so well. After all, these movies are supposed to fit perfectly with the previous ones as one cohesive series. So, as I headed into the theatre my expectations had dropped significantly from when I saw the first trailer.

What's he gonna think?!

Over the course of 2 hours and 45 minutes my expectations and perception of this film changed dramatically. Much like I discovered when I watched Hugo, around the 3/4 mark I realized that I loved this movie and didn't really want it to end. I think the overwhelming impression I got from it was: heart. This movie has a lot of it – in the story, the characters, the visuals, the craftsmanship. Tolkien obviously put a lot of care into his book and Jackson, likewise, put it into his film. No one would dispute Jackson's love for this world. He'd have to love it to spend the better part of a decade working on it. And it shows. Yes, maybe a little too much, but it shows nonetheless.

Now, I have not read The Hobbit. I have read the Lord of the Rings trilogy and about half of The Silmarillion. Unfortunately for me, The Hobbit was a grade 4 reading requirement... until the year I got there. With that in mind, I actually didn't know any of the specifics of the story, just the broad strokes. So I have no way of telling you how accurate the movie was to the book, nor how overindulgent it was in keeping in parts that could have been cut. My sense of it is that it's as faithful as the previous trilogy was. In other words, quite faithful, but not absolutely. My sense is also that it's a bit more indulgent in keeping in little moments or scenes than could have been cut (it would have to be to get 3 movies from 1 book, supplements or no). The common complaint that the first quarter of the movie is slow is valid. But if, like me, you have no previous experience with the group of dwarves that arrive unannounced on Bilbo Baggins' doorstep, then it won't feel as slow as it otherwise might because they are interesting, entertaining characters. And it is in this early part of the film that Jackson put in a touch that I truly loved – and missed a bit in the Lord of the Rings. A song.

Music plays a key role in Tolkien's universe. It can also be hauntingly effective at setting a mood or conveying unspoken thoughts in film, like when Billy Boyd's Pippin gives a lilting, heart-breaking performance in The Return of the King. Same thing here. The weight and magnitude of the challenge before this group really sets in. And aside from perhaps Gandalf – who obviously knows well the dangers that lie ahead – the character that sells this most is Thorin Oakenshield, who has the most awesome-sounding name, ever. This guy:

He's dreaaaaamy.

This portrayal of Thorin (again, haven't read the book) is one of the most enjoyable additions to Peter Jackson's take on Tolkien's universe. His backstory is a tragic tale, excellently told at the beginning of the movie, as he loses his family and his kingdom to Smaug the dragon. And in truth, this film is his story, not Bilbo's. That would be one complaint I would lodge against it – Bilbo, aside from his superb run-in with Gollum (possibly the highlight of the film), is pretty much a tag-along in this movie. It's only towards the end that he really starts to come into his own and move more towards front-and-centre. Before that, all I really wanted to see and hear more from was Mr. Dreamy-Locks above. It's his arc that's most engaging; turning from a bitter, untrusting curmudgeon, to a man who's eyes are opening to the world and people around him, and even willing to trust someone other than his kind. It's basic but potent stuff.

Along the way there are some fantastic visuals and set pieces that in some cases actually got me to elicit an audible "wow". One such moment came as the group was traversing the Misty Mountains and suddenly were caught between an epic battle of colossal Rock Giants hurling boulders at each other amidst a thunderstorm. Even in words that sounds awesome. The incidental nature of this scene caught my imagination – these giants weren't interested at all in our heroes, and the whole scene plays out as simply another fantastical event that's common to Middle Earth. That was something I didn't feel in the Lord of the Rings.

Smashy smashy.

Another excellent action sequence was when our heroes made their escape from the grotesque Goblin King across ladders and walkways in the mines under the mountains. What made this scene stand out from so many others like it was the speed: the characters battled hundreds of goblins while sprinting at full tilt. It was thrilling enough on its own, but – prepare yourself for it – it was actually made better by the 3D. I know. I hardly believe the words myself.

In fact, The Hobbit was another excellent example of 3D used under restraint. At no point did it take me out of the movie or seem like just another gimmick. The con to this pro is that I could also easily see that, while it was very enjoyable, it wasn't wholly necessary. Seeing this movie in glorious Two-Dimensions should be just as good. But if The Hobbit is only playing in 3D at a theatre near you, don't let that stop you (aside from the extra cost, of course). As for the 40 frames per second issue, I think my theatre was showing a traditional 24 fps version. If it was 40 fps I didn't notice it at all, so I'm fairly certain it wasn't and therefore I can't really comment.

All of this is not to say the movie is without flaw. It has its flaws just as the original trilogy does. There are also some of the same logic questions that stick out if you think too hard about the story (why can't the giant eagles just fly them ALL THE WAY there and save everyone some grief?), but those are as much questions for Tolkien as Jackson. And if Tolkien had answers, he won't be sharing them any time soon. What this movie did do successfully was rekindle my imagination for this interpretation of Middle Earth. It felt right at home viewed alongside the Lord of the Rings movies, which I immediately went home and started rewatching. And, perhaps most of all, it gave me hope that Jackson can continue to defy his critics and pull off another hat trick. I'm eager to return next winter and find out.

I'll leave you with Mr. Dreamy-Locks again.

You can't look away.

My Name is Rick Ames and
I Approve of This Movie

I Approve of This Classic: Raiders of the Lost Ark

A warehouse full of fond memories. 

The Short Version:
It's Indy. The first one. The best one. If you have a pulse, this movie is for you.
And if you disagree, this is what I say to you.

The Long Version:
First, some clarification: this is the first of what will soon, hopefully, be a semi-regular feature on classic films that are less reviews and more retrospectives on their legacy, their impact on my life, and any new appreciation or analysis I've discovered about them.

The impetus for looking back at what I consider to easily be one of the Top 10 best films of all time was the chance to recently see it on the big screen for the first time as part of Cineplex's Digital Film Fest. Big thanks to Ryan Walton (file photo: here) for securing tickets.

Like virtually all people my age or younger, I never had the chance to see Raiders of the Lost Ark on the big screen when it debuted in the summer of 1981, as I was born 1 year late. And even then it might have been a stretch bringing a baby to see that film – more on that later. But like so many children of the 1980s, what I could not make up for in terms of milestone viewing experiences I made up for in volume. NBC's Sunday Night at the Movies was our friend. VHS was our friend. The rewind button was our friend.

The first story I'll recount is related to the link I placed at the top of this post. Here it is again if you're lazy. That is in my opinion the single funniest moment in the movie if only for its sheer randomness and slapstick-ery. And it nearly destroyed our VHS's rewind button. My brother and I would replay those 10-seconds until we were face down in the carpet, dangerously short on oxygen, our ribs in agony. It's the kind of joke that young boys eat up with a spoon. And as it approached while I was watching in the theatre, I tensed up, started giggling with delight and prepared myself for the knockout punch of silliness in, what is up to that point, an already very funny movie. Sure enough, it still got me right where it tickles most. And from the audience's reaction, many others feel the same.

Still smarts after all these years.

One of the greatest joys of watching the movie with a large audience – comprised almost exclusively of die-hard fans – was rediscovering just how funny the movie really is. It's so often remembered for it's pulpy story and spectacular set pieces, yet Raiders is chock full of great laughs from beginning to end, some coming in rapid succession. What may be even more surprising is the endurance these laughs have had, standing the test of time to remain genuinely funny today. In light of our often jaded demeanors, it's nice to know that a good time is still a good time. Before moving on, I'll leave you with another classic laugh, which I'm sure many would say is the best laugh in the movie. For those who don't know, this scene was shot (pun fully intended) instead of a much longer fight between Indy and his sword-wielding opponent due to Harrison Ford having a severe fever. Knowing this doesn't make the scene less funny, but more so, as you can tell that Harrison the actor is just as happy to have this fight over with so quickly as Indy the character. Art imitates life.

Another bonus of seeing this movie at the Digital Film Fest was a chance to see the BluRay transfer of the film, which Cineplex uses instead of a traditional reel or digital pressing that new releases get. I had heard good things about this latest HD treatment for the film and, to my eyes, Raiders has never looked better. I won't go off on a rant, but unlike a certain compatriot of his, Speilberg has learned the folly of his ways from messing with his older films. During the recent press tour for the BluRay release of Jaws, Speilberg said he would never again alter or significantly change the content of one of his prior films like he had with E.T. Such wisdom! During my viewing of the film, on a large screen remember, I was only able to spot one noticeable change he had made to the film and it was to fix an error, removing the lens flare and reflection you once saw here:

Fan boys will still find a way to complain.

One of the most memorable sequences in the film for me is the opening. That may seem obvious, but we actually studied this scene in one of my communication classes in college. That was a good day. My professor's reasoning for studying this sequence was that it was in his words, "The perfect introduction." He explained his view thusly: within 15 minutes of the film's opening we knew everything we needed to about the characters, the world they inhabit and the arc of the story. We were quickly introduced to exactly what kind of a man Indiana is: no nonsense, extremely knowledgeable, quick on his feet, familiar with danger, and yet still very human, very fallible. The world is made clear to us as well: it's our world but from another era and seemingly... heightened in some fashion. Everything is a bit more dangerous, mysterious, and thrilling than we expect it to be. Lastly, we are given a condensed version of the film's arc: knowledge of priceless ancient artifact is discovered, race is on to find it, a myriad of dangers, traps and creepy-crawlies stand in the way, and a series of rogues will try to thwart Indy at every turn, some more effective than others.

So long Sapito.

Which brings me neatly to the most startling realization of my Raiders of the Lost Ark on the Big Screen Adventure. This movie was PG.

I'll stop for a moment and let your mind wrap around that fact for a bit. If your mind is already familiar with this stunning revelation, please, as you were.

Yes, I have known for many years that this film is in fact rated PG. I am aware that at the time it was rated as such by the Motion Picture Association of America, there was no such rating as PG-13. I am aware that films like this and others, in particular Jaws and ultimately Temple of Doom, were responsible for that rating's creation (hmm, both Speilberg films. coincidence?). For some reason, however, I must admit I had never really looked at this film as really stretching the boundaries of a PG rating. But, man, when you see it on the big screen, surrounded by viewers who all react to greater or lesser degrees the same way – "ugh!" – you quickly realize that it's amazing this got passed the MPAA intact. Much less my parents. Don't forget, I grew up on this movie and others like it. I was allowed to watch this film from the age of, oh, I'd say about 6. Being a father now myself has forced me to start considering what is acceptable for my daughter to watch. Granted, she's not even 2 yet, but time marches on quickly and I will have to question whether 6 or 7 or 8 or whatever is the right age to introduce this film to her. Because I'll want to. I will want to see the look in her eyes when that plane takes off into the sunset at the end of the film's opening, as John Williams' score surges with that most memorable of themes. That is an experience I can't wait to share. I'm just not sure when she'll be ready for... you know... this:

Years of therapy. Just waiting to happen.

My Name is Rick Ames and 
I Approve of This Classic

I Approve of This Movie: Hugo

For the love of film

The Short Version:
If you love any of the following: movies, movies with heart, how movies are made, how movies came to be, interesting characters, Paris, Dickens, young love, redemption, Rube Goldberg-like machinations, intelligent portrayals of children, Martin Scorsese – you will love this movie.

The Long Version:
This movie is important to me if for nothing else than it pushed me to create this blog. That sounds really pretentious and maybe more than a little cliche. But the simple fact is this: I loved it so much, I wanted to say something about it publicly.

Like the creation of this blog, my viewing of Hugo was late. It popped up on Netflix (the crappy Canadian version no less) and I had every intention of watching it immediately. I already knew the broadstrokes of the film. I was already intrigued to see a fairytale children's film from Martin Scorsese, a man not known for his soft and cuddly subject matter. I had read the raving reviews at Rotten Tomatoes, not least of which Roger Ebert's – a man whose opinions I have a love/hate relationship with.

With all of this predestined love for Hugo, to say that seeing this film 14 months after its theatrical release was a bit of an oversight from someone who purports to be a big fan of film might be underselling it. I screwed up. I should have put this much higher on my to-do list in the Fall of '11. But I didn't. Why? Well, there was this:

My contribution to the Star Wars universe

Without question, being a new father has put a crimp on my theatre attendance. Never more so than in that first year. And, sadly, a lot of excellent films fell by the wayside because we had to be more choosy than ever about what to see. In other words: you go see the big blockbusters and little else.

So, why all the need to build this justification in your mind, dear reader, as to why I did not see Hugo in theatres? Because it's a decision I would change in a moment if I could. Heck, I would have taken the kid with me to some matinee with zero attendance just to see this movie as it was meant to be seen. On a big screen. In full digital surround sound. With a colossal bag of popcorn (this movie is comfort food, so it makes sense to have plenty of it at hand). And, yes, most unexpected of all:
In 3D.

To be clear, I do not own a 3D television. I have not seen Hugo in 3D. And yet, simply from watching it in HD – which is a delight nonetheless – I can clearly see that this movie is one of the strongest arguments in favour of the technique to date. More so than Avatar. Yes, I'm sorry Mr. Cameron, but while your 3D extravaganza was without question the first true proof-of-concept, Hugo injects a massive dose of something in the effect that your film was either lacking a bit or felt forced (I can't decide): Wonder.

This is a film designed not for children, but for the child in all of us. This is not only true of the visuals, but of the characters and the story itself. As many others have noted, the two leads of the film, our eponymous hero Hugo (Asa Butterfield, then aged 14) and his partner in crime and love-interest Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz, then also 14), were unlike nearly all young characters in films of the past 20-odd years. In other words they weren't brats, crass, dumb, shrill, or simply irritating. Which is good because the film hinges on their likeability. If we don't care about what happens to them, especially Hugo, then Mr. Scorsese has a beautiful-looking film about nothing. I try to keep from gushing about an actor's performance too often, but in the case of Asa Butterfield I simply can't help it. For starters, this boy's eyes are utterly captivating. The way he looks at this fantastical world around him is what sells 90% of the Wonder-with-a-Capital-W the film exudes. Naturally, it doesn't hurt that his character's situation, much like Oliver Twist's, is of a young boy left alone to fend for himself in a very harsh, unsympathetic world.

Again, the casting of this film is feat in itself. Even rather small roles like Hugo's dearly departed father being played by Jude Law shows a commitment to getting these characters right. Jude's character is on screen for what felt like 2 minutes. But in that short time my heart broke for young Hugo at having lost the last (or next-to-last) truly good thing in his life. It doesn't hurt that I also lost a parent at a similar age, so I was left even more exposed to Scorsese's tugging of my heartstrings. More of this happens later when Ben Kingsley, whom last I saw in the sadly mediocre Prince of Persia, reminded me why he is who he is. Once his character is fully exposed to these two children, for reasons I will leave unexplained for those who haven't seen the film, he gives a wondrous, melancholic and ultimately heart-wrenching account of his life's work. It is scenes like these where we see masters at work. In essence, they are delivering exposition and facts – in this case actual historical facts that you could simply read on Wikipedia. But the way they are presented to us is what gives this scene such emotional resonance. Kingsley's character isn't just recounting history. He's opening a very old wound that he has tried for years to bury and pretend does not exist. We learn more about his character in a single scene than we do throughout the whole movie. While it is one of the longer scenes in the movie (maybe the longest) it is still only a few minutes long. Yet in that time we are helplessly swept along through a wave of emotions to arrive at a conclusion that leaves us feeling what he feels, nearly as intensely as he feels it. That's somethin. For a point of reference I will direct you to this similar kind of scene: grab a hanky.

Apologies if you ugly cried.

I've spent so much time talking about the characters (and could continue to do so at length), I've neglected to touch on the truly original thematic the film has to offer: a touching look at the early years of film itself. As I said above, this film is for lovers of the medium. Not specific genres of films or eras of filmmaking, but simply film itself. I love films because of their ability to transport us to other places or get us to invest in interesting situations and characters. Or simply the joy of zoning out and not thinking about what today was or tomorrow will be. This is a film for that person. It also doesn't hurt if you have even the slightest interest in the origins of cinema. But even if you don't, fear not! This film does an excellent job of lending you that appreciation. And that quality can be laid solely at the feet of Martin Scorsese.

For anyone who knows a bit of history about him, you'll know this kid was absolutely rabid about film from a very early age. So much of his career up to this point has been spent intermingling that love with his love (possibly love/hate) for New York City. For many years, the love of that city dominated his films, and thus that underlying love of films, at least as far as the viewer was concerned. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on the director. In fact, I've only become more exposed to his movies in the last decade or so. However, even as a relative newcomer I'm willing to bet that this may be his most personal film to date. It's a term I'm reluctant to use because it often gets thrown around a lot, I suspect by directors who become tired of coming up with inventive ways to promote their films, which they must do endlessly. But look at the facts: a young boy, cut off from the larger world but always gazing at it (Scorsese spent much of his youth inside due to asthma), wishing to be out there, a lover of cinema (Scorsese consumed films to pass the time), a tinkering with mechanics and how things work (Scorsese is exploring the very new art of 3D cinema)... there are a lot of parallels between Hugo and Scorsese himself. So while many of his films are examinations and/or love letters to the city he grew up in, this film is a love letter to his earliest childhood love: film.

The strongest recommendation I can give you is that three-quarters into this movie I realized as I was watching it that I didn't want it to end. I wanted to stay with these characters for days or weeks. I wished there would be a sequel, simply so I could see more of them. I went into this film expecting that I would enjoy it and to be impressed by the caliber of the performances and the visuals.

I came away lost in sheer wonder.

My Name is Rick Ames
and I Approve of This Movie

I Approve of This Blog: Inauguration

Oh, where to start?
At the beginning would seem the most obvious place.

Well, I've been wanting to create a wee outlet for my random thoughts, but haven't for a long while for fear that my thoughts would be too random and serve little purpose to anyone but me. And I already have a journal for that.

So, in an effort to bring some sense of order or structure to my words, I recently (as in several months ago) determined that since I have many opinions about a few forms of media – specifically movies and video games with a smattering of music and literature – I could create a review blog of sorts. Of course, I am about 10 years late to this party and I didn't really bring an awesome dish with me. Unless you count my wife.

That being said, I'm forging on into the unknown in spite of these concerns, or perhaps to spite them. I intend to write as often as I feel I have something of value to say. So that may be very often or laughably infrequent. I'm hoping for the former. Don't be shocked if it's the latter. I can also never assume that anyone will actually take the time to read this future content. But since I've worked in advertising for over 8 years, I'm well acquainted with that likelihood. I will promise you, potential reader, this however – I will do my best to make each post as entertaining, insightful and worth your time as I can. That's as fair a contract as I can offer, so I hope you'll join me on this little adventure.

That's enough introspection. Let's start looking at what's out there that's interesting and worthy of comment, shall we?

My Name is Rick Ames
and I Approve of This Post.