Monday, September 7, 2009
Ian Bogost on The Beatles: Rock Band
Why have I not read any of Ian Bogost's articles before? He has a great post up now regarding The Beatles: Rock Band as an artifact of Boomer culture reverence, and asks us if that is something we, Gen X/Y, should want to take part in.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Being a huge fan of Brick and the recent 500 Days of Summer, largely due to Gordon-Levitt's involvement, I found that this article really speaks to me.
It's funny because I never would have thought that the kid from Angels in the Outfield and 3rd Rock From the Sun would become one of the most interesting actors of his generation. As he continues to make smart decisions and choose good roles I continue to look forward to whatever he appears in (barring cash movies like G.I. Joe).
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Moon

Now here is a rarity, a science fiction film that can be described as thoughtful, heartfelt, and human. This directorial debut from Duncan Jones stars Sam Rockwell as Sam Bell, a technician in a Helium-3 mining facility on the moon. He is serving out a 3 year contract in isolation but for the facility's computer GERTY, voiced by Kevin Spacey.
Moon, like the best science fiction stories, uses the setting to explore some facet of human nature. As the tagline suggests ("The last place you'd ever expect to find yourself"), Jones uses the isolation of the moon base to examine human identity. What is it about Sam that makes him Sam? Although this is a refreshing change from most recent science fiction pictures that are concerned more with explosions than anything else, this is still well-tread ground in the pantheon of science fiction cinema. Works such as Solaris and Blade Runner have covered similar ground, arguably more successfully, but Moon is not without its unique charms.
It deserves to be said again that Sam Rockwell gives a terrific performance in what is essentially a one-man act. He's an actor who always seems to take interesting character roles so it's nice to see him getting some of the limelight. I preferred the first half of the film, as Jones really let Rockwell just exist as Sam Bell. It's often more fascinating to watch character just be onscreen, rather than watch them react to the forces and requirements of the plot, which is what happens soon after Sam's revelatory discovery.
The cinematography also deserves mention. The moon is shown as a desolate and beautiful place, and the use of miniatures instead of CG gives the film a real, tactile feel appropriate to the material. The interior of the space station is sufficiently space station-y, but it is the shots of the moon's surface that linger in my mind: the crawl of the Helium-3 mining vehicle, kicking up rocks and dust into space, or of Earth, visible over the horizon. Maybe the moon isn't such an unlikely place to find yourself after all.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Ludic vs. Narrative Techniques in Games
There's a great post by Ubisoft Montreal designer Clint Hocking on the importance of ludic techniques as they apply to players' interactions with games. He goes into how games as an industry should embrace what sets them apart from film and suggests that the nature of games creates the potential for more powerful experiences than can be experienced in a narrative medium.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The New Old E3
After two years of massive reductions in the scope and relevance of the Electronic Entertainment Expo, E3 is once again an event to get excited about. Up until 2006's conference, E3 had been the gaming industry's biggest, loudest, and most anticipated expo. It was so big that developers would schedule project milestones so that they would have a demo ready for the expo and it was the one week where the mainstream press would actually take interest in games. But it was too big. Publishers were spending millions of dollars on their booths and not seeing significant returns. That's why, after the 2006 conference, major publishers began announcing that they would not be participating in E3 as it then existed.
This mass exodus lead to a restructuring. Opinions were split. The press did not seem to mind. The atmosphere at E3 wasn't exactly an ideal environment to demo new games, and trying to make every appointment was almost impossible. Outside of those who actually had to cover the games of E3, people were crestfallen. The "new" E3 was to be by invitation-only, and take place in a smattering of hotel rooms in LA, giving developers a more intimate setting in which to show off their games. In theory this was great for the enthusiast press, and by extension, the fans, as they'd have better access to better games coverage. However, it didn't take long for everyone to realize that this new E3 wasn't working. There wasn't any excitement anymore. The spectacle that had become so overblown and bloated was also part of what attracted people's attention.
(As an interesting side note, the downsizing of E3 lead to a vacuum in the industry. People weren't sure what to get excited about anymore and as a result, other gaming conferences gained more attention. Expectations were placed on expos like PAX, Leipzig, and, inappropriately, GDC, to fill the gap that E3 had left.)
So after two years of smaller, subdued E3's, the 2009 conference is back to its hyperbolic roots. Though I doubt the conference will be allowed to attain the levels of excess achieved in the 2006 conference, this year's show is definitely getting people excited. We're ready for the spectacle again.
This mass exodus lead to a restructuring. Opinions were split. The press did not seem to mind. The atmosphere at E3 wasn't exactly an ideal environment to demo new games, and trying to make every appointment was almost impossible. Outside of those who actually had to cover the games of E3, people were crestfallen. The "new" E3 was to be by invitation-only, and take place in a smattering of hotel rooms in LA, giving developers a more intimate setting in which to show off their games. In theory this was great for the enthusiast press, and by extension, the fans, as they'd have better access to better games coverage. However, it didn't take long for everyone to realize that this new E3 wasn't working. There wasn't any excitement anymore. The spectacle that had become so overblown and bloated was also part of what attracted people's attention.
(As an interesting side note, the downsizing of E3 lead to a vacuum in the industry. People weren't sure what to get excited about anymore and as a result, other gaming conferences gained more attention. Expectations were placed on expos like PAX, Leipzig, and, inappropriately, GDC, to fill the gap that E3 had left.)
So after two years of smaller, subdued E3's, the 2009 conference is back to its hyperbolic roots. Though I doubt the conference will be allowed to attain the levels of excess achieved in the 2006 conference, this year's show is definitely getting people excited. We're ready for the spectacle again.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
OSP: 8 1/2 and Brazil
For my entries into the Opening Shots Project, I may be diverging a little from Emerson's original intent and including what can be more accurately described as the "opening sequence" of a film, rather than restricting myself to just the opening shot.
Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 begins a tunnel with us looking at the back of a driver's head inside a car. Traffic seems to have stopped and there is no sound, immediately creating a feeling of claustrophobia and confinement. As our view is pulled back and the camera pans across the tunnel, we can see the full extent of the jam.
Cars are bumper-to-bumper and door-to-door as far as the eye can see. Next, we are shown the occupants of other vehicles, regarding our driver indifferently, further isolating us.
As the driver wipes his windshield and we look from side-to-side, the cabin begins to fill with smoke, turning the suffocating feeling literal. The first and only sounds in this opening sequence are those made as our driver gasps for breath and scrambles to escape the car as those around him look on as always.
Finally, our driver escapes out the sunroof, climbs on top of his car and... floats away. He floats out of the tunnel and out into the open sky, relishing the freedom. No longer stuck in that car in that traffic jam in that tunnel, he soars through the clouds all the way to the ocean.
His freedom, and ours, is short-lived, though. At the beach two men on shore start pulling on a rope attached to our driver's ankle, trying to bring him back to earth.
They succeed, and just as our driver is about to hit the water, he wakes up from his dream.
Our driver is actually Guido, a film director currently the victim of director's block, and this opening sequence is a summary of his current state of mind. Without telling us who or what he is, we have been shown how trapped he is feeling and how he feels the need to escape. We've also been shown that for him at least, escape does not come easily. With this opening, Fellini has created a wonderfully expressive and baroque introduction to the film and main character through the use of this metaphorical dream sequence, all very Felliniesque characteristics. The use of a dream sequence such as this to symbolize a character's need to escape will also be used in Terry Gilliam's Brazil.
The very first shot of Brazil is a visual quotation of the opening sequence in 8 1/2. It begins with us flying through the clouds to the tune of Brazil (the song), immediately bringing to mind thoughts of a paradise getaway- somewhere open, free, and tropical.
We are soon reminded that this is not exactly the dream escape it appears to be, though. As we're flying through the clouds, text appears, telling us that it is "8:49 PM" and that we are "Somewhere In The 20th Century", bringing us one step closer to reality. Or at least Brazil's version of it.
The scene then cuts to a shot of a television screen on which a commercial for ducts is playing. The man selling the ducts displays that veneer of hospitality like only the English can, but it is in juxtaposition to the absurdity of the setting and product, creating a uneasy feeling that this world is not quite right. This is indicative of the tone of the film, largely owing to Gilliam's Monty Python roots (or was Monty Python's tone owing to Gilliam's disposition?).
The camera zooms out, showing us that the television is actually part of a window display filled with televisions. Not quite the paradise we were lead to believe in the first shot.
As the man with the shopping cart passes the window, the disconnect between the opening shot and our current location is widened even more as an explosion destroys the display. In the rubble, a working set shows an interview where it is explained that the country is currently suffering from a series of terrorist acts that have been going on for the passed 13 years. The politician puts it down to bad sportsmanship, again showing Monty Python's influence.
This opening sequence, like that of 8 1/2, shows both an escapist fantasy and something that needs to be escaped. In the case of Brazil, though, that which needs to be escaped is much more literal; the reality of the film is shown as being absurd, unsafe, and entirely unpleasant. Also, Gilliam chooses to show the escapism only fleetingly, and he does not associate it with any one person immediately, perhaps to give us, the audience, something to yearn for as we descend further into the madness of his vision of England.
I chose both these openings because they convey the same general themes and motivations, but do so in entirely different ways. It is interesting to see how Gilliam, obviously influenced by Fellini, going so far as to pay homage to him, takes what Fellini did in 8 1/2 and give his own personal twist. The first shots of both films convey the same vague themes, but only several shots in and 8 1/2 is already distinctly the work of Fellini and Brazil is already distinctly the work Gilliam.
Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 begins a tunnel with us looking at the back of a driver's head inside a car. Traffic seems to have stopped and there is no sound, immediately creating a feeling of claustrophobia and confinement. As our view is pulled back and the camera pans across the tunnel, we can see the full extent of the jam.
Cars are bumper-to-bumper and door-to-door as far as the eye can see. Next, we are shown the occupants of other vehicles, regarding our driver indifferently, further isolating us.
As the driver wipes his windshield and we look from side-to-side, the cabin begins to fill with smoke, turning the suffocating feeling literal. The first and only sounds in this opening sequence are those made as our driver gasps for breath and scrambles to escape the car as those around him look on as always.
Finally, our driver escapes out the sunroof, climbs on top of his car and... floats away. He floats out of the tunnel and out into the open sky, relishing the freedom. No longer stuck in that car in that traffic jam in that tunnel, he soars through the clouds all the way to the ocean.
His freedom, and ours, is short-lived, though. At the beach two men on shore start pulling on a rope attached to our driver's ankle, trying to bring him back to earth.
They succeed, and just as our driver is about to hit the water, he wakes up from his dream.Our driver is actually Guido, a film director currently the victim of director's block, and this opening sequence is a summary of his current state of mind. Without telling us who or what he is, we have been shown how trapped he is feeling and how he feels the need to escape. We've also been shown that for him at least, escape does not come easily. With this opening, Fellini has created a wonderfully expressive and baroque introduction to the film and main character through the use of this metaphorical dream sequence, all very Felliniesque characteristics. The use of a dream sequence such as this to symbolize a character's need to escape will also be used in Terry Gilliam's Brazil.
The very first shot of Brazil is a visual quotation of the opening sequence in 8 1/2. It begins with us flying through the clouds to the tune of Brazil (the song), immediately bringing to mind thoughts of a paradise getaway- somewhere open, free, and tropical.
We are soon reminded that this is not exactly the dream escape it appears to be, though. As we're flying through the clouds, text appears, telling us that it is "8:49 PM" and that we are "Somewhere In The 20th Century", bringing us one step closer to reality. Or at least Brazil's version of it.
The scene then cuts to a shot of a television screen on which a commercial for ducts is playing. The man selling the ducts displays that veneer of hospitality like only the English can, but it is in juxtaposition to the absurdity of the setting and product, creating a uneasy feeling that this world is not quite right. This is indicative of the tone of the film, largely owing to Gilliam's Monty Python roots (or was Monty Python's tone owing to Gilliam's disposition?).
The camera zooms out, showing us that the television is actually part of a window display filled with televisions. Not quite the paradise we were lead to believe in the first shot.
As the man with the shopping cart passes the window, the disconnect between the opening shot and our current location is widened even more as an explosion destroys the display. In the rubble, a working set shows an interview where it is explained that the country is currently suffering from a series of terrorist acts that have been going on for the passed 13 years. The politician puts it down to bad sportsmanship, again showing Monty Python's influence.
This opening sequence, like that of 8 1/2, shows both an escapist fantasy and something that needs to be escaped. In the case of Brazil, though, that which needs to be escaped is much more literal; the reality of the film is shown as being absurd, unsafe, and entirely unpleasant. Also, Gilliam chooses to show the escapism only fleetingly, and he does not associate it with any one person immediately, perhaps to give us, the audience, something to yearn for as we descend further into the madness of his vision of England.I chose both these openings because they convey the same general themes and motivations, but do so in entirely different ways. It is interesting to see how Gilliam, obviously influenced by Fellini, going so far as to pay homage to him, takes what Fellini did in 8 1/2 and give his own personal twist. The first shots of both films convey the same vague themes, but only several shots in and 8 1/2 is already distinctly the work of Fellini and Brazil is already distinctly the work Gilliam.
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