And we’re back! For those of you who missed part one, Wildermyth Wednesday is a regular series involving screenshots collected from the Worldwalker Games 2021 release. Wildermyth is an RPG with turn-based combat that does an amazing job of making the story focus on the characters which you, the player, recruit/create. It’s fun! You might consider trying it sometime!
Without further adieu:
The Adventures of Zanbert
There are plenty of opportunities to transform characters in Wildermyth. And often, in my playthroughs, I won’t end up deciding to have a character undergo a transformation–sometimes it doesn’t fit with my previous idea of who that character is or what role they’re playing, etc.
Zanbert Gravetether, however, is an example of how transformation–he’s become a wolfman, as you can see–sometimes can enhance the personality of a character and make them more memorable within one’s Wildermyth canon. Above, he’s offering to bite someone on behalf of his mystic friend, Telthaia Truffleworth.
And in this one, he’s delivering a devastating zinger group of bandits that he and the other party members have encountered. Note that this is from a different campaign, and he’s younger, which is why his coat is gray rather than white. But wow, “Maybe that should inform your decisions?” That’s cold, Zanbert.
Annnnd the less said about this one, the better! We’ll move on to a different set of characters now:
Deepists Or Cheesemongers?
In the first one, above, two of our heroes, Ebbriana Sherbert (right) and Gretchen Greatwasp, are hearing testimony from a helpful mouse regarding the location of enemy forces. Grady Day (who somewhat escaped having as silly a name as the others in this campaign) is in the background.
And here we see that Grady is somewhat skeptical of Gretchen taking the mouse’s word. Suggesting that rather than the Deepist cult that they’re fighting, the mouse might have just gotten excited about a cheesemonger being located nearby.
…but then the party–including the previously unseen Cobb Vas Sky (second from right)–charges in, to discover that, well, it’s NOT a cheesemonger. It was the Deepists after all. Rodents are right more often than you’d think.
“Library Lochsley”
Each character in Wildermyth possesses personality traits, measured on a scale from 1-99. The two strongest traits go a long way towards determining their reactions to certain situations and their dialogue in certain interactions. To use an example from last Wildermyth Wednesday, Domino Wildelance–the mystic who threw himself down into an underground cavern to protect his daughter–is referred to as a “Goofish Leader” because his strongest personality trait is “leader,” and his second strongest is “goofball.”
Lochsley Kynestrange? Well, he’s a Bookish Poet.
A real man of mystery. It’s hard to tell what he’s passionate about.
Wildermyth, a 2021 Worldwalker Games release, is a game I’ve played a lot over the last couple years. It’s a party-based fantasy RPG with turn-based combat, seamlessly woven into a story structure that shines the spotlight on the characters the player has created and recruited. While other squad management games (the rebooted XCOM and the first Darkest Dungeon, to name a couple) allow you to customize your charges but don’t do much to establish them as three-dimensional characters, Wildermyth takes the ball and runs in a character-focused direction. The game possesses a pretty impressive array of campaign options, but the characters you create and how they interact with each other are the meat of the story. And if you play enough if it, you may very well end up with your own cast of thousands.
So! Wildermyth Wednesday is a weekly feature that I hope to keep publishing as part of updating this blog more often again. As kindly suggested by one of the other contributors, this feature will include a handful of screenshots from the many I’ve collected, and a short explanation for why I picked each. Along the way, maybe this’ll spark your interest, dear reader, in playing the game. Or maybe you’ll just like observing the large cast of characters who’ve accumulated over umpteen playthroughs. Either way, without further adieu, below is the first of this week’s shots:
Skinny’s Battlecry
Wildermyth multiplayer is a joyful, if sometimes the slightest bit buggy, experience. The above is from the latest campaign that one of my siblings and I played which centered around fighting back a tide of the robots-with-bones creatures known as the Morthagi. We created these three as our starting characters: Aisling Starchaser is the blue-haired mystic on the right, Prim Weedwater is the hunter in the middle (my sister’s creation), and Skinny Conlock is the warrior who is struggling with the assignment of yelling something impressive as a battle cry.
The Freaky Freecairn Freedom Fighters, Years Later
And this one is from later in that same campaign. In fact, several years later. Aisling, Prim, and Skinny have all been at the fight for years, and have been joined by Prim’s son, Cabbage, and another warrior (left of Aisling) named Pip Rust. The five of them are accompanied by two allies whose names I won’t mention due to spoilers.
And yes, the name of the group for this campaign was, in fact, the Freaky Freecairn Freedom Fighters. And yes, we did pick the name.
Two Unfortunate Rivalries
The two screenshots below show two different rivalries forming during a custom campaign. The campaign set-up is designed to take a couple of your existing Legacy Heroes and generate each of them a younger sibling. I did this for Stornbaron and Kika because they were both older characters in my legacy who still didn’t have any family members. I thought it would be nice.
…and then they both formed rivalries with each other’s younger siblings. I was a little miffed over this happening. It wound up being a fun playthrough, nonetheless.
Domino Dives In, Daddily
This last one is also one where our characters are fighting the Morthagi. In this event, Lirielle Wildelance fell through the ground into the Morthagi workshop, and is now hiding under the table while she waits for back-up. One of the options I had at this point was to allow her father, Domino Wildelance, to jump in after her. I decided to have him do that, since it’s in character with him being protective of the other members of the group. That’d be why there’s an old mystic and his shadow cat flying downwards towards a bone-and-metal monster. Domino’s not about to let his daughter fight the bad guys off alone.
Pink is one of their family colors according to my head canon.
Next!
We’ll return next Wednesday with a new set. In the meantime, maybe I’ll actually finish one of these reviews that’s been on the backburner for awhile now.
It’s been around a month since Apex Legends sneaked onto the battle royal scene. Flying under the hype-cover as it’s EA producer spent it’s time promoting their ill received Anthem game, Apex was announced the same day it launched and has since exploded in popularity. The battle royale genre has been the new bandwagon genre that the industry has flocked towards trying to make a quick buck on that the unbelievable popularity of games like Player Unknown Battle Ground and later and even more successfully, Fortnite have found. I was a fan of the original Titanfall and Titanfall 2 so a game from Respawn Entertainment was attractive to me, however Anthem provides a great example of how EA can force great studios to make something way outside of their wheelhouse in the pursuit of some popular and possibly lucrative fad. So I had some hope but also some reservations when I reinstalled Origin (sobbing) to give Apex a go. Fortunately I was pleasantly surprised.
The game retains all the characteristics that have come to define the BR genre but, it does enough differently that the game truly stands out on it’s own and is not some sort of reskin of PUBG, Fortnite, or Black Ops 4. Probably, it’s strongest selling point is that it’s free to play. But the second and more interesting selling point is that the game has launched with a level of completion and polish that has been a breath of fresh air (looking at you Anthem). While there have been some issues with crashing (that have occasionally cut short my game sessions in frustration) it has by and large been a stable game that feels complete with some room to grow. Just about all of it’s systems launched with a level of thought and polish that I have never seen a BR game launch with and as someone who experienced the early days of PUBG that’s something I can really appreciate. That being said the game is different from it’s BR competition in a variety of more tangible ways.
From the beginning of booting up the game you’ll notice the many differences that give Apex it’s own unique BR flavor. The first thing you might notice is that instead of being able play in groups of four, two, or one, Apex forces you to play in groups of three. Did you want duos with your buddy? Too bad you’re getting a rando thrown in there. Want to play solo and truly display your dominance as the most badass Caustic (one of the games playable characters) player that ever lived? Too bad you’re going to have to carry two other total N00bs as you dive into the hottest drop you can find. On the other side the limit to three in a group is also irritating for my friend group who typically now have to leave one man out when we try and play together, but there is a reason for it. The game is structured around squads of this size and is strongest when played that way.
Once you’ve found your group you get to pick your “Legend”. Apex currently offers eight playable characters each with their own special abilities hitboxes, voice lines, and skins. A lot of the abilities synergize with each other, and promote different kinds of playstyles but don’t have an overwhelming effect on the game play. For example, Bangalore can drop smoke and then Bloodhound can make enemies visible in it. Your squad takes turns selecting characters and the last player to pick gets the consolation prize after probably having their main character, Wraith, “stolen” from them, of being the jumpmaster.
Then the game begins and you are all suddenly in the drop ship flying across a relatively small map along a random straight path. Unlike most BR games you drop with only 60 total players or 20 teams of three, this is in part because the pacing of Apex tend to be much faster than other games in it’s genre, typically lasting less than 20 minutes. The map has a variety of collections of buildings/structure where loot spawns and it’s up to your jumpmaster to decide where to drop the squad and then control your collective flights to the desired location, not that you can’t break off and drop on your own. If you are that Caustic player (the name of the character really is a reflection of some of the people who play him and this is definitely not a personally biased judgement on my part) and you want that sick highlight-reel worthy play you will most likely solo drop to that hottest of drops “the bunker” and promptly die leaving your teammates in the lurch down a man for the rest of the game and nothing in the game will stop you from doing that.
Once you land, hopefully in a group, you begin your scramble for armor and weapons to protect yourselves and begin your quest for absolute Apex domination. Communication during the mad scramble is made easy with the groundbreaking ping system. It is easy to ping weapons and attachments you find so your teammates can benefit from your frantic searching for a gun that is not the mozambique shotgun pistol. It is also easy to ping attachments you need for your guns, the location of enemies, or where you want to go (or the millions of mozambique pistols you find so they may share in your pain). And then your game can begin.
Another neat wrinkle that separates Apex from the rest of the BR genre t is the revive system. In most BR games if a teammate takes enough damage they are incapacitated but able to be picked back up and continue the fight if a teammate gets to them in time or before an opponent murders them to lootable death. This mechanic is important to BR games because it heightens the sense of urgency and anxiety in the game and one of the genre’s biggest payoffs is the moments when you overcome that adversity. Those moments when the rest of your team is down and it’s just you against the enemy team and you need to pull off an “epic game moment” in order to pull through are some of the moments that I remember most in playing this game, often even more so than matches I win. Apex has complicated this mechanic in a way that adds to this. Now, even if your teammate is completely dead there is a window of just over a minute to grab their “player banner” and then you can carry it over to a respawn beacon and summon them back into the game. They’ll be as lootless as the moment they first dropped, but they’ve now got a second chance to help your squad win. This mechanic is great. It means that in a competitive fight where you only have one squadmate left standing you still can get back into the game but you are still much more vulnerable for having been completely downed. It also creates the very fun moments where your teammate who ran away from the fight like a brilliant coward can sneak back and theoretically get your entire team back into the game almost completely making up for abandoning you. The mechanic just really feels at home in a BR style game where the objective is to make it to the end not necessarily get the most kills (cough, cough, looking at you random guy who decides to peel off of the squad to hit a dropship where half the players in the entire game are landing).
When it comes to getting around the map, Apex Legends’ characters aren’t as mobile as their kin from the Titanfall entries, but movement is more free than in any other BR game I’m aware of. There is no fall damage and the fastest way to move around the map is sliding down slopes and jumping off cliffs. Additionally you can crawl fairly high up on the various structures in the game and many of the environments enable weird parkour exploits and plays. Additionally zip lines are scattered all over the map and give players quick and easy access to different parts of the map. There are also vertical zip lines attached to balloons that allow you to basically re-drop over a short distance. Combined these features make Apex a very mobile game, and it means there’s another skillset to learn and improve on in addition to the usual shooting
It’s gunplay is probably most similar to Fortnite out of all the other BR games but doesn’t revolve around a building mechanic which for me is a huge plus. The armor and healing system in the game make sniping feel a little underpowered relative to other similar games. Finding cover and healing up to full before a team can close on you to take advantage of a sniper shot that takes you down to half health is usually doable and makes sniping a lot less lucrative. It is still very possible to snipe in the game and the supply drop only, Kraber sniper rifle is a nightmare in the right hands, but as a whole the gameplay largely revolves around midrange to close quarters fights and you’ll rarely find yourself downed by a distant player you don’t see coming.
If it hasn’t been clear from my tone at this point, I’ve really been loving this game to the degree that I have developed some (probably) baseless hate for people that main certain characters or enjoy a certain style of gameplay different from my own. I have collected many of those memorable moments that keep me coming back to this game and it’s been so nice to scratch the BR itch without having to play a 40 minute game of PUBG only to get headshot by a Kar-98 from across the map or get verbally abused by an eight-year-old wunderkind with godlike building and shotgun skills in Fortnite (I swear this is a hypothetical). The game has already done enough of the things that I think are important such as the amount of polish it launched with and some prompt rebalancing of a few of the guns after the game was launched give me confidence that it will hold my interest into the future. The game is also very replayable. Relatively short matches and including short queues to get in game mean that you can play a fair number of matches without loading screens or tedious cross map running (looking at you PUBG) that tend to sap my energy and desire to play multiple matches in a single session. This will be easier with new content announced to be just over the horizon including things like new maps, characters and guns.
This all being said, the game is not without its flaws. I mentioned earlier that I’ve had some issues with the game crashing frequently enough that I’ve stopped playing much earlier than I intended to and I know those problems aren’t limited to me. There is also no way to re-enter the game after that’s happened which magnifies the issue. This has partially been addressed in some new updates to the game and even new graphics drivers that have increased the game’s stability but it’s something worth commenting on. There are also some small features that I would like eventually such as a matchmaking system so I can avoid playing against people who had 100 hours and 10k kills in like the first three days the game was out. There have also been reports of cheating that if true I hope get addressed.
But, really all of these things are minor complaints. Really the one area that I worry about and that I think might have some badness already baking-in is unsurprisingly, the monetization system. Apex uses the typical cosmetic based loot-box system of getting money to pay for the content they’ve produced and while it isn’t the worst one I’ve seen by a huge margin I am always terribly uneasy about the potential slippery slope situation and with a producer like EA hovering over them I feel a bit more justified in my mistrust. Apex has three types of currency. Legend Tokens, which are earned by playing the game, Apex Coins, which are purchased with real money, and Crafting Metals which you obtain randomly in “Apex Packs” (which is their word for loot-box). Apex Coins can be used to purchase everything in the game, this includes skins, the two characters who aren’t initially unlocked, and Apex Packs. Legend Tokens can be used to unlock the two characters and to purchase modifications for skins you already own and that’s all I’m aware of. Crafting Metal is used for crafting specific skins you want. You also earn an apex pack every time you level up until you hit level 20 at which point it’s every other level and then completely stops once you hit level 100. This means that you get 45 apex packs just for playing the game. But the planned obsolescence in that design is an alarming sign that combines with another odd mechanic. In the games store there is a rotating number of modified skins that you can purchase with your Legend Tokens, however you can only purchase those if you have already unlocked the skin it’s based on, which “fortunately” for you the game store informs you you can buy with Apex Coins and gives you the coin amount and a handy link to go buy the coins you need. I will stress that right now this is not a huge problem for me. I’m not even at level 50 yet, and I’ve really enjoyed the gameplay experience immensely. While I’m not planning on getting sucked-in to spending a much of money on it, I’m nonetheless concerned that this is something that will diminish my long term enjoyment as I worry that the microtransaction creep potential will blossom into a problem that could dramatically decrease the quality of what is currently a great game.
Possible future monetization-ocalypse aside, I really do recommend playing this game if any of what I described is at all interesting to you. The prerequisites to play are very minor for most people. You either need a computer just above the performance level of a potato, a playstation 4 or xbox one past those hurtles the only cost to play the game is free.
In the comics (and graphic novel) industry, particularly the Superhero “sub-genre” that headlines for the Big Two (DC & Marvel), there’s what’s called a “Crossover Event.” For those of you not hip to this (which is fine), it’s the outwardly incredibly simple idea of mushing multiple characters from the same universe into the same story line. DC has Justice League. Marvel has The Avengers. You probably don’t need more examples.
I feel like it’s being accepted more and more that–unless you’re a younger fan, in which case bless you and perhaps don’t read this–these actually tend to kind of suck. The equation seems like it should be incredibly simple: you take characters that are fun, you put them in the same series, and it’s even more fun. Fun plus fun plus fun should equal three funs, right? Well, as a number of better writers than myself have illustrated, this usually isn’t the case. As detailed in this excellent essay, Crossover Events and Renumberings actually tend to be a “jumping off point” for readers when it comes to the Big Two. Marvel especially.
In addition to the in-depth and heartrendingly accurate breakdown of how messed up the direct market in comics are, I’d also like to throw out what I think is the practical problem in terms of writing these types of stories. You’re basically taking the main characters from a bunch of different series and having them all on the page or on the screen at the same time. When this leads to witty exchanges of views, co-operation, and fun over the span of a short period of time, you can get the rare success of this type of subgenre. For all of the grief I’ll give Marvel and even with how disenchanted I’ve been with superhero flicks in general, I’ll concede that the first Avengers movie is a good example of how this can be done in a non-infuriatingly bland way.
“With our power combined, we aspire to be a lot less boring than your typical Supes-Mashup!”
However, I think part of what explains why that worked is that two hours and thirty minutes of the same MCU characters being on-screen together is a relatively short period of time, where as a result the writers don’t have to worry as much about things the clash of the different series tones. It’s when these endeavors have to explain themselves in a little more detail (such as in the comics runs or in, say, a Netflix series) that some of the contradictions become more obvious. Part another way: “The Avengers” is basically everyone in the MCU having a two-and-a-half-hour cameo, and it’s way easier to nail that format.
When the characters who normally headline their own series come together for a longer period of time, the problems tend “pop out” right in front of your face. A lot of these characters have different goals/ethics, which would be more interesting if it weren’t for the fact that the stories usually detail them all coming together to fight for a common cause. Each of their own individual series has its own tone–Jessica Jones’s tenacity in the face of an oppressive shit world, Luke Cage’s sizzling energy as the series has him deal with corruption in the community he loves, Daredevil’s split between getting things done within the system and concurrently asking the question of whether the system is too broken, Iron Fist being an excellent reason to not cast Finn Jones as White Buddhist Batman–and it’s hell of a thing to try to let these spill into each other without accidentally muting them all. And the villains have tended to be either ridiculous (even by Supervillain standards) or just a pathetically lame foil to let the Superheroes stand out more.
Understand, I’m not saying every crossover ever has failed to take this all into account, but basically all of them have had to deal with the above challenges. And I can tell you, personally, as someone who owns too many DC trade paperbacks, that the above challenges and the fact that writers tend to shrink from them a bit is the reason I own all of Scott Snyder’s Batman run for the New 52, and approximately zero of the Justice League trades.
But back to Marvel’s Defenders. As you probably guessed by now, I don’t think it’s really up to snuff. I know there are people who’ve become pretty disillusioned with the Netflix Marvel series in general, but I’m not among their number; I liked Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, and Daredevil quite a lot, and I tolerated Iron Fist. I really did think there was a significant chance for The Defenders to break through the tape that way too many crossovers seem to wrap themselves in. Sadly, it’s really impossible for me to say that it did. And I really wanted to like this, if not love it.
Less than the sum of its parts, sadly.
But it really is the same old stuff. There are a couple of neat hooks where the characters are brought together in not totally contrived ways, and otherwise it’s that weird feeling where you never really get to spend enough time with any one of these characters (except for Iron Fist, whose mentor is cooler than him, but hey), and the overall plot rushes into focus fast enough that the reasons that they’re able to hash out their differences and co-operate feel cardboard. Maybe if I didn’t enjoy three out of the four of these series so much, this wouldn’t bother me as much. But that’s sort of the opposite of the point here, isn’t it? I was watching Defenders because I did like the other series.
There’s two exchanges that sum up the entire series for me. For one, it’s one of those scenes where the writers threw two characters into conflict for contrived enough reasons that it’s just hard to sit through (see also: Arya and Sansa Stark’s conflict from Season 7 of Game of Thrones), so it’s got a strike against it right off the bat. Secondly, Knight, a detective, is questioning Jones. Now, I know Superhero stories are never really going to break from the whole “cops are generally good with a few bad apples” perspective so I’m willing to give that a bit of a pass, especially since the police in Luke Cage weren’t exactly heroic-it’s really just Knight, as his friend, who stands out as trying to do the right thing. But I’m also really not sure why Knight would be treating a known associate of Cage as hostile. She even goes as far as to give Jones shit for offing Kilgrave at the end of Jessica Jones Season 1. Kilgrave had raped Jones (and other women as well), so this is downright wince-worthy stuff.
Jones’s reaction is to basically continue the dialogue while acting annoyed, and it’s really hard to figure out why doesn’t have a stronger reaction to this. It’s even harder to figure out why the writers thought this needed to be in the series at all. This scene could’ve easily been an interesting back-and-forth between characters who’re trying to do the right thing and taking vastly different approaches, and instead it ends up with an unconvincingly vanilla conflict that’s derived from Knight saying something uncharacteristically awful. Add some incredibly forced dialogue into the mix and it’s just pretty much the perfect example of things not fitting together and god-awful writing turning it into a total mess.
There’s another one where Luke Cage calls out Iron Fist for being an entitled prick, which is a scene that’d work approximately one thousand percent better if Finn Jones wasn’t a wooden actor, Iron Fist wasn’t an entitled prick, and if Cage’s decision to call him out on this had a bit more of a lead-up to it. On that last point, I’m all for Luke Cage yelling at Iron Fist, but the scene managed to be rushed, robbed of impact, and once again display how Jones really, really cannot act all that much at the same time. If you replaced him with a board with a slightly constipated expression on it, Mike Colter’s words would’ve had more impact.
But seriously, I know I’ve made it more than clear that I don’t care for Jones’s acting or the Iron Fist in general, but the weakness of that series combined with his central role in this one is an issue. When Cage goes after him, the viewer might be inclined to take his side, but a better constructed Iron Fist character with a better actor would’ve given that scene an appropriate amount of nuance, prompting there to be a range of different opinions that could arise from viewing it, like “Cage is right, but Rand clearly didn’t get his point across” or “Cage came on too strong, Rand doesn’t get what’s going on yet” in addition to (what seems like the only possible conclusion unless you’re just the hardest-core Iron Fist fan in the world) “Cage is right and let’s move on.” It takes a scene that should be thought-provoking, and turns it into something much less.
This looks awesome.
I could go on–the villains are pretty wooden aside from a Madame Gao reappearance–and the show manages to take eight episodes and make it feel like it both should’ve been shorter (for reasons I mentioned above re: The Avengers) and longer. But instead I’d rather just focus on the picture above.
In the end, I do keep coming back to this and other shots from the promo material, and being annoyed by how cool some of these look, too. Because once the series got going, it was impossible for me to not wonder exactly where the gritty, “it’s just a bunch of friends hanging out trying to deal with the impossible burdens of life” feel of these actually went. Because hell, that is so something the viewer can relate to. There’s another one where they all look like they’ve been hanging out all night and are beginning to feel slightly hung over. These are also pretty cool in their own way, and a series that had found a way tap into that feel of them all genuinely bonding probably would’ve also been the same kind of series that actually managed to figure out how to balance its characters and tone better.
As it is, we got something that played it way too safe and ends up feeling like it could be a show about any four slightly bland superheroes, rather than two whose personas (and actors) carry the hell out of their own series and one who’s the only blind criminal defense lawyer that I’m aware of in superhero canon.
You can enjoy parts of this series, and if you watched the others, you’re probably going to watch this one. But if you were expecting “awesome+awesome+cool+Iron Fist = more awesome” (or some variation on that equation), I don’t really think that’s what you’ve got here.
I finally read Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (Parts One and Two). Finished it today, in fact. This isn’t going to be a long or particularly detailed review, but there were some particulars I wanted to mention about the book.
First impressions overall, I thought the book was good. I went into it basically only having the short review of the friend who lent me their copy of the book, and who rated it a 2.5 out of 5. So, I had a cautious and skeptical approach to the book as I opened the cover to begin reading. But that slipped away, and I found myself no longer paying attention to time as I flipped page after page.
There are spoilers ahead, so if you don’t want those, stop reading and come back later.
One of the things I enjoyed about the book was how certain elements clued in from the beginning was woven into the solutions and eurekas at the climax and near the end. Granted, that’s a pretty standard storytelling technique, but particular moments like with Harry Potter’s baby blanket became nice illustrations of that technique.
I sometimes think time travel (as in plots that involve the act of traveling in time, not the act of creating prequels) is an easy answer to recycling a good series, but that didn’t stop me from still finding some enjoyment in this book. That said, I’m squinting my eyes hard at more and more popular series/stories recycling old plots or content through the instrument of time travel. I hope that it doesn’t become an apparatus so commonplace that it becomes boring or predictable. I like time travel stories, but I don’t like seeing it becoming a cashcow opportunity.
So far as the plot of HP#8, it definitely seemed to me to be much more about the relationships between Harry Potter and his son Albus, as well as Albus and his friend Scorpius Malfoy, than about the second rising of Voldemort, even though that was used as a vehicle for the relationship plots. And I liked that. Bringing back Voldemort would be quite a bit boring and would have appeared like the writers were just returning to material “that worked before” rather than trying to reinvent something more fresh.
That said, there are times I was not entirely sold that the reason Harry and Albus had such a tense relationship was because Albus was concerned about living up to the Potter name, worried about disappointing his dad, jealousy, and embarrassment. I realize that’s what they were going for, but throughout the book you are more or less told this like “hey guys, this is the reason they are not getting along.” And there could have been an even deeper build and more complex background to the tension that Harry and Albus share than the usual “my dad is famous and I’m a nobody loser.” And near the end, it got really Lion King-y with the whole son: “I thought you were never afraid,” father: “There were many times I have been afraid. / Even great heroes can be afraid. / I was very afraid because I thought I was going to lose you” stuff.
Generally, I enjoyed the transitions in the book, and watching them play out in my head made for some pretty poignant visuals, and I can sort of imagine how the lighting and staging could make this pretty powerful.
After reading it, I went over to my Goodreads app to log it. The rating from the 300k+ people who have rated it on the app is exactly the right rating for this book. 3.77 out of 5.
In space, no one can hear you complain inside your helmet.
So, there’s been a lot of pre-release noise in regard to Mass Effect: Andromeda. The fourth entry in the series had caught some flak from more than a few people based on silly-looking animations and a few other things that are equally hard to summarize or care about. For this series, this isn’t anything new, of course.
However, there was enough of it out there that, when EA/Bioware added the ability to play up to a certain point (and keep the progress once the game was officially released) for $5 to access the game via Origin Insider (which also gives me a 10% off coupon if I choose to buy the game, for a whopping $2 of savings in total!), I jumped on the opportunity. A
Full disclosure – I really enjoyed the original trilogy, despite its warts. I’d go as far as to say its one of the few series that exists that I feel game-love for. I also liked ME3 and ME1 better than ME2.
I’m not someone who reviews games as my livelihood and Game Mechanics is just a group of friends posting whenever the need to write on entertainment hits, so I have very little experience in writing about a game before the actual release. To help flesh things out for people who’re on the fence about pre-ordering vs. waiting for reviews vs. waiting for a sale vs. skipping this title vs. hiding inside a bunker and refusing to interact with Bioware-produced media ever again, I put it out there that I was “buying in” to the first ten hours, and gathered questions that my pals on a couple different social media platforms had about it. Those appear after my initial summary, which is below. Hope this helps!
~
Mass Effect: Andromeda launches the player back into the same universe as the first three games, only this time you’re playing as Pathfinder Pick-A-Name Ryder rather than Commander Pick-A-Name Shepard. Oh, and also, once you set up your Ryder, you learn that you’re part of the Andromeda Initiative, a private venture to cross “dark space” from the Milky Way to the Andromeda Galaxy. And also it’s 600 years later than the end of ME3, because apparently that’s how long it takes for your “Ark” ship to get from one galaxy to another. And you’ve been woken up and, inexplicably, the first thing they give you is coffee which anyone could tell you is a terrible choice for the first thing you ingest directly out of 600 years of cryostasis.
It’s worth noting that, as with the vast, vast majority of other video games, we’re limited to the gender binary in constructing our Ryder in Mass Effect: Andromeda. If you play a guy, you’ll have a gal twin sister, and vice versa. I didn’t really expect anything else, but it does seem something that developers should try harder with in the future, since having the option to build your character from the ground-up is basically an acknowledgment that playing a specific type of character isn’t really key to the way you interact with the game.
Anyway, so you’re part of the AI, and your Ark has exited dark space and collided with a bunch of space-glowy-crap that has a name that’s easily less convincing than “space-glowy-crap,” and naturally some of the tutorial is you figuring out the basic mechanics in order to help your shipmates fix a messed-up widget or two.
Did I say you were the “Pathfinder”? Just kidding, it’s your Dad. On a related note, a Pathfinder is apparently the person in charge of finding a new world to live on (a “Golden World” according to the ME:A jargon). I’m not really sure exactly what the credentials for this position involve, seeing as once your dad does the typical Disney parental thing and croaks in order to make sure you live through an encounter with lizard-people, you’re elevated to the position based on his dying proclamation. You then discover that your part of the expedition has actually been the most fortunate, probably, as none of the other Arks–Turian, Salarian, Asari (all names that’ll be familiar if you’ve played one of the first three games, and if not…they’re fellow aliens from the Milky Way)–have shown up yet, and the “Nexus” space station that was sent ahead of you to give you all a home base is behind schedule, has already had to fight off a rebellion (and exile some people, which is definitely going to come up again), is low on resources, and sustained losses to its leadership team to the point where the replacements are now sort of politically at each other’s throats over who has control over what part of the expedition. Hooray!
If this makes it sound like you’re a bunch of Space Incompetents from Planet Dipshit, the good news is that doesn’t really wreck the experience so much as actually add something! For one thing, this seems pretty much how a billionaire-funded private space enterprise would go – just look at SpaceX. For another, being thrown into a situation where the leadership structure is in tatters and nothing seems to be going the way anyone planned is actually pretty interesting because it bucks the original Mass Effect story arc practice where Shepard was learning about systems already in place that previously hadn’t involved humans or the Systems Alliance, and replaces it with you being relied upon as one of the people to make chicken salad out of chicken shit as Pathfinder Ryder.
Once Cradwap Ryder–sadly, I was one character short of “Cradwapper” but no one should care about that–had an appropriately terrifying vision, neon hair (and let it be said that the character customization is quite fun, as always), and had been confirmed as the Mass Effect: Andromeda equivalent of a Vanguard, we were off to the races. Well, okay, technically that all happened before the Ryder’s father died in a selfless attempt to inject pre-fabricated feelings into the opening couple levels.
The classes have different names and allow for a little more variation within soldiery-types than other Mass Effect games, but otherwise they should seem pretty familiar to veterans of the series. For new people, you’re going to be picking a class that gives your character some ability in Typical Soldiery Shooty Things, Using Drones & Robots To Shoot Things, or Using Your Augmented Brain To Toss People In The Air And Cackle, or some combination of the three. I picked the one that’s a combination of the first and last, because I haven’t yet been able to come up with a good answer to the question, “what is a bad thing about being able to charge into people and headbutt them with brainpower, yet also still being able to operate the gun you are holding?”
And so Cradwap Ryder was off to a couple different places. The first couple levels gave me a chance to get a feel for combat, which is fine, and the interface, which is also, again, fine. The AI of the enemies/your two companions has come under fire as one of the things that needs work whenever Bioware gets around to patching things, and I’ll say that that’s a valid complaint (if overblown like virtually every complaint). Ryder and I had very little trouble with disposing with most enemy combatants on Normal difficulty, up until we got to the point where it’s a big enough fight in a relatively open area that you sort of need your allies to contribute.
At that point, I was sort of glaring sidelong at my idiot comrades and cursing under my breath the same way I do when I’m stuck with an Overwatch team that doesn’t appear to comprehend that at least going through the motions of Shooting What Is In Front Of You And Is Also Shooting You would be extremely helpful to allow me to get us through this fight. I had one other companion–I’d give you the names, but I feel like it’s relevant that none of them made much of an impression during my time with the game, so you’ll have to look it up–who had similar abilities to my character, which was helpful about half the way time. The other half, she went headlong into the middle of four enemies and had to be revived (the typical mechanic where you crouch near your friend’s broken, shattered body and hit “E” until they’re Just Fine After All!) or I had to fight with just me and Idiot No. 2 for the rest of the battle.
To be fair, when it was a more tunnelly battle with lots of cover, my allies did fine. But this engagement, in the second area of the final mission that the Origin Access buys you, uh, access to, you’re fighting around and inside a multi-leveled base, ostensibly an attempt at a sort of evaluation colony before it was attacked by another non-native race called the Kett. And this basically broke my teammates and thus was the only time I died other than my usual handful of deaths involving idiotically walking off a cliff.
In regard to the combat overall, I say “fine” because, while not on the same level of futility as the friendly AI, the enemy AI also makes some puzzling decisions. Such as reinforcements dropping out of a shuttle onto a roof and then bumping into each other in their attempts to be the first one to jump down to the surface and combat The Mighty Cradwap And His Two Moron Disciples. I also say “fine” rather than “great,” because, while I had no problem with the shooting mechanics or using the powers, the Kett, which make up your enemies in the first couple levels, gave the combat a distinctly Mass Effect 1’s Downside feel where it seems like the game has two simultaneous ideas going that are at war with each other: 1. it wants this to be an epic third-person cover-based battle 2. inexplicably gives you a foe type or two whose entire purpose is to try and get into melee range, which are just numerous enough that the first idea doesn’t really pan out. Thus far, the inventory system–related to the combat for obvious reasons–feels similarly Mass Effect 1, in that it’s a mess (as ME1’s kinda was).
However, the added mobility options are a plus, as you’ve also been given the options to “dodge” or use your kinda-jump-jets to quickly relocate, so while this overall feel is way less fluid than the combat in ME3 or even ME2, what you’re left with is something that feels very much like the pieces are in place–especially with the idea that you’ll get more than just your Headbutt and Shoot A Bolt Of Hurty Stuff abilities later on–for plenty of fun. And said ability to jump/boost in any direction sort of helps offset the cover system – the game assures you you’ll automatically take over when you approach a viable object with your gun out, and this works about as inconsistently as you might think if you were given such vague instructions.
Anyway, fun! I certainly did have some, I just wish I could’ve upped my character past Level 5 to see what lies beyond. I don’t think it helped that it’s sort of impossible to see the basic Kett enemies as anything other than “the guys you fight because you have to fight someone to learn to fight.”
Speaking of seeing, that was another thing that merits mentioning. I’d say the proper critique for Mass Effect: Andromeda’s graphics is that they’re not an improvement, from what I’ve seen, on Mass Effect 3, and there are indeed a few more rough edges than in the previous two games. The stuff about the facial animations and character models are both pretty overblown, unless you somehow expected Bioware to suddenly stop having a problem getting the eyes and teeth to look 100% like they go with the skin. I didn’t, so whatever – I wish they’d get a little better at this, but truly this isn’t near the middle of my complaints list.
And I suppose that’s the ultimate conclusion here. A lot of the complaints about Mass Effect: Andromeda are valid, and there’s the unshakable idea for me that this game absolutely should have more polish than it does given all the time that Bioware’s had to craft the first chapter in the new story arc of this series–it’s a little bizarre to be making my way through levels with the simultaneous feelings that the game’s mechanics give the potential for the most dynamic combat/movement in the series, while on the other hand the actual product thus far is something closer to ME1’s combat only not that good. The trial, also, really doesn’t get us deep enough into levelling for me to look at a bunch of different abilities/tech tree stuff. To say nothing of the element of choice and decisions affecting the storyline and such, a key component of RPGing that understandably hadn’t appeared in the early going.
But overall, despite these caveats and the fact that I really haven’t gotten to know any of the characters yet for any of them to be particularly memorable, I can’t deny that I was pretty much instantly sucked back into the universe. The setting is interesting, the potential conflicts within Nexus leadership and beyond, in the Helios Cluster, are both compelling. None of the characters seem potential-less, just the course of a handful of plot missions didn’t give me much chance to get to know them. The combat really doe seem like it could be significantly. better once I reach level 10 or so. If the question is, “were you, given your own background as a ME fan, convinced you should buy it?” the answer is yes. It’s with with the caveat that I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be, but it’s a yes.
However, a lot of you had other questions, which I’ve done my best to answer below:
Q: Is it even any good? Mass Effect is my favorite series ever, just didn’t have time to play the trial. Worried it will suck.
It feels to me like it’ll be somewhere in the considerable gray territory where it’ll get a fair amount of deserved flak, while still being worth playing (especially if you’ve like the first three). I say that as someone who, also, loves the Mass Effect series despite its warts.
I will say I definitely found parts of it to be lacking, but I also had no trouble getting into the game during my trial time.
What’s that all add up to? For me, it means I’ll skip the digital deluxe stuff and just go for the standard edition.
Q: Can I/should I play this if I couldn’t quite get into ME1?
A: I’m going to say no, not right now. If you like the idea of getting into the series but had a hard time getting into the first, the best starting point is likely to try ME2 – ME2 revamped the gameplay in a way that’s a significant break from the first, so there’s a good chance that if you didn’t get into the first all that much that the second’s reboot of that part of the gameplay will resonate with you. Plus, that way you get some of the sense of build-up to ME3’s climax (assuming you like ME2 enough to keep going).
The weird thing about this game is that, in terms of its graphics style, the first couple missions’ aesthetic, and the combat, this feels like it’s got similar warts to ME1. So if that wasn’t your jam to the point where you couldn’t hold your nose and play through it, I don’t recommend starting here.
Q: re the character model animations as frequently silly as people have made them out to be? Bioware’s animation always had awkward moments, but it sounds like they are far more apparent this time around.
A: As with a lot of the pre-release buzz going around about the game’s issues, it’s both 1. an actual annoyance in some instance 2. horrendously overblown by the Leap To Conclusions section of the internet. The fact is that there’s always been some silly shit in Bioware games, and in regard to facial animations it’s really just more of the same. Disappointing that it wasn’t more fine-tuned? I guess. But the only thing that was remotely glaring in my experience was the example below.
Q: How goofy are the walk/running cycles for your character?
The one place I’ll say that I found it annoying was when the running animation try to realistically portray the way people move when you’ve been running in one direction, and then quickly switch directions – this animation feels like it was built for wide-open areas, so when it kicks it right next to a wall or a box, it’s made my Andromeda Initiative Pathfinder look like a frigging jackass who’s trying to show off the stupidest ways he can run without falling. Practically, the issue is that sometimes this leads to me getting hung up on said object (and sometimes getting shot).
Q: Also, how does the switching between 4 favorite power load outs feel? Especially mid-battle?
The interface itself is definitely not a problem in battle – it feels pretty intuitive, even as the layout reminds me more of the first game than the second or third. I didn’t get too deep into the tech trees, obviously, but it’s not on my list of complaints.
Q: Does the ass-car known as the Mako return?
A: No, but it had a child with a hummer that you’ll get to drive. I have no idea what to say about how it handles, as I suspect it’s going to be rather polarizing like its parent-vehicle.
Q: Has Bioware delved further into non-hetero/queer relationship options for the main character/supporting cast?
A: This is a great question, which I wish I’d have time to reach. Unfortunately, with trial time only taking me through the opening sequence, boarding of the Nexus, and going to a couple cruddy planets, I pretty obviously hadn’t hit the downtime in-between plot missions yet where you have an opportunity to get to know your squadmates better.
Q: Also, can the main character still inflate their ass and float around on the ceiling to avoid gun battles?
No, but it’s pretty easy to accidentally jump-jet into an area that you don’t fit in very well, and then get shot like a jackass. I accomplished this a couple times underneath the base structures in the second area (the one where my squadmates freaked the hell out). The game could’ve used a lot more polish in terms of hints about “can I go under there without my character suddenly becoming afraid of walking.”
Q: Are the shoes fancy enough?
A: Not during my gameplay, but my character is still only Level 5 – there is ample potential for fancier shoes to make an appearance.
Q: Great game or greatest game?
A: Sort of doubt it’s either one, but it’s a lot of fun to be back in this game world. Remains to be seen if it makes more of a long-term impression than that, or if the Andromeda adventures end up playing Hobbit Trilogy (fun and worth your time, but stretched thin and mainly coasting on the success of the previous trilogy) to the first three games’ Lord of the Rings (very good), but the good news is that I don’t think it sucks!
Note: I wrote this awhile ago and then forgot to post it. Since I’ve having some issues getting my newest post onto wordpress, read this in the meantime. You might laugh. If you don’t keep in mind that it was funnier back when people were actually seeing the movie. I promise.
~
Zach Snyder: ready, we’re going to have Batman and Superman fight.
Superman: Okay
Batman: I’m magic
~
(Somewhere that is not America)
Person of Color No.1: I am pretty sure I am a terrorist
Person of Color No. 2: yes. Look, we have captured Amy Adams!
POC1: Why would they even hire her for this movie? She’s going to be totally wasted on this film.
Amy Adams as Lois: Save me, Superman! In The Year 2016, Save Me! A Grown-Ass Woman!
POC2: Agreed. Also, I have been crushed.
(Superman saves her)
Lois: Bae
Superman: Let us leave now.
(White terrorists kill black terrorists, because white people are even better at terrorism!)
~
(Later)
First Black Person Who Isn’t A Terrorist: Hi
Reporter: Are You A Terrorist?!
~
(Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne meet at a Lex Luthor event)
Lex Luthor: Hello, I am Jesse Eisenberg playing Lex Luthor. Some people actually praised me for how I played this part, because every other character in this movie acts as if they just watched a puppy die! However, I am still fucking obnoxious!
Reviewers: What spirit! He’s actually having fun in this movie!
Crowd at Manor: Yay or something!
Audience: I’m actually at this movie.
Kent (to Wayne): Batman’s a jerk.
Wayne (to Kent): Don’t you write for a shitty newspaper?
Kent: Yeah-No, we just like to write about Superman.
Wayne: Superman’s a jerk.
Kent: No, he’s great.
Wayne: Well, Batman’s great.
Kent: He Is Not
Wayne: My, this sure is a battle of wits.
Kent: Okay I agree this establishes how smart and affluent we are.
Zach Snyder & No One Else: Yessssssss!
~
(Later, at the Senate)
Senator: People died where you were.
Superman: Uh…
Senator: You are overstepping your bounds. I’m going to talk to Lex Luthor about this.
Audience: Does…anyone…in this…movie…think?
~
Senator: let’s stop Superman, who I think might be too powerful.
Lex Luthor: ah, Superman. What a prick. He answers to no one. I, on the other hand, head up a multinational corporation that clearly has questionable ethics standards and functions essentially outside the law as well.
Senator: Hmm, no actually I think we shouldn’t talk.
Lex Luthor: No I think we should.
Senator: Huh, okay.
(Later)
Senator: No, we should not talk.
Lex Luthor: He could she possibly get that I’m evil? Ah well, time to blow her up.
~
Snyder: Okay what’s the most offensive, awful event I could shoehorn into this plotline where the Senator is blow up?
Scriptwriter: Uh…maybe a disabled veteran could blow himself up inside a senatorial hearing?
Snyder: Brilliant.
Scriptwriter: that was supposed to be hypothetical
Snyder: Hypowhat? Anyway, put it in.
~
Senator: Superman, you’re doing things.
Superman: Yes I am.
(Explosion)
Superman: Shit, I’m getting blamed for this by total morons, aren’t I?
~
Batman: Wow, I definitely blame Superman for that.
Alfred: Sir, shouldn’t you have children by now?
Batman: I can’t do math, you see.
Alfred: Yes, sir.
Batman: and thus, I have to kill him.
Audience: oh…c’mon, really?
~
Lex Luthor: I have two brilliant plans. I’m obnoxious.
Audience: How much screentime does he get?
General Zod: Is…is there a reason I’m still not decomposed or…?
Lex Luthor: I’m going to make you into Doomsday using my blood and an alien spacecraft that for some goddamn reason listens to me, okay?
General Zod: Excellent, there are no plot holes here. I am also dead and therefore cannot disagree.
~
Lex Luthor: Superman, I hate you.
Superman: Okay.
Lex Luthor: I have your mom captive.
Superman: Hey, that sucks. I am displaying emotion for the first time in the movie.
Lex Luthor: Fight Batman.
Superman: What?
Lex Luthor: (blowhard speech about gods and men and bullshit)
Superman: Okay, okay I’ll fight him leave me alone.
Lex Luthor: if you don’t fight him, your mom dies.
Superman: Okay, I think I already agreed to fight him.
~
(Batman and Superman begin to fight)
Superman: Hello, we shouldn’t fight because–
(Batman attempts to kill him, Superman is unfazed)
Superman: Ahem. We shouldn’t fight because–
(Batman attempts to kill him again, Superman is again unfazed)
Superman: that’s weird. Thought you didn’t like guns? Anyway–
Batman: You’re a threat to this world! You damaged my penis–I mean, my car!
(Batman starts fight again, Superman kicks his ass)
Batman: Owwwww
Superman: shit, I forgot what I was going to say! Somehow, against all odds, I’m not fucking mentioning that I’m only fighting you because of Lex Luthor!
Batman: I only have two kryptonite-grenades for some reason, but I just remembered I made those so HA take that.
(Batman throws kryptonite grenade, it hurts Superman. Batman kicks Superman’s ass)
Superman: Owwwww
Batman: I’m going to stick a spear through your chest!
Superman: No don’t, my mom!
Batman: Fucking what?
Lois Lane: His mom’s name is Martha.
Batman: Good point. That’s the same name as my mom’s. Let’s save your mom. And not fight.
Superman: Not fight each other.
Batman: Yes, that.
~
(Batman saves Superman’s mom)
Batman: I’m a friend of your son’s.
Martha: (actual funny line that way too many people who had left the theater already missed)
~
Lex Luthor: Look! I’m doing things evilly and I made Doomsday
Doomsday: HRUUUUUUUUGH
Superman: Imma punch that
(Superman does so)
Doomsday: HRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH.
(Doomsday sends Superman flying a bit)
Wonder Woman: I’m here and I’m going to kick ass!
Superman: wait, who is she?
Batman: the one character in this movie who didn’t have enough screen-time to be wrecked.
Doomsday: HRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!
Batman: okay, the one character with actual lines.
Superman: Ah. Well I’m going to get stab it with a spear made of shit that kills me.
Lois: Here’s the spear that will kill Doomsday and you, but if you want I could just run this over to Batman or Wonder Woman and one of them could kill Doomsday.
Superman: nope, got this.
Audience: OH COME ON
Wonder Woman: well actually, I’ve got Doomsday tied up here so you probably have time to give that spear to–
(Superman stabs Doomsday)
Wonder Woman: Okay, whatever.
Doomsday: fuck you I mean HRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH
(Doomsday stabs Superman)
Batman: What a heroic and symbolic sacrifice.
Wonder Woman: We could call an ambulance?
Lois: I was dating Superman.
~
(two funerals happen at once)
Super Director Zach Snyder: SEE, THIS REPRESENTS THAT SUPERMAN WAS BOTH A PERSON AND A SUPERHERO. TWO SEPARATE PEOPLE WHO MEANT TWO SEPARATE THINGS TO
~
Everyone: Welp, he’s dead. Yep. Dead. He was great.
Batman: Can anyone–anyone?!–please explain how the hell this movie wasn’t based on the rather obvious yet still interesting fact that Superman and I are both heroes, but Superman kills people and I don’t? Anyone? No?
Let me start this review by deeply exhaling, borderline sobbing, into a nearby pillow. Jesus Christ. I can do this.
Casey Affleck jovially suggested in his recent gig hosting SNL that Manchester By The Sea was very sad. Depressingly sad. Just very, very sad. He wasn’t joking and, if anything, I could suggest that him joking about this movie being sad was a half-assed version of a trigger warning.
Overview
Manchester By The Sea follows the story of Lee Chandler (Affleck), as he attempts to navigate through life as a lowly multi-apartment custodian. He lives alone, drinks alone, eats alone. Are you seeing a trend? When he is floored by news about his brother Joe’s death (Kyle Chandler), he is forced to take on the responsibilities left to him by his brother. This includes taking permanent guardianship of his nephew, Patrick (Lucas Hedges), maintaining Joe’s fishing vessel, which in turn means dramatic changes to Lee’s life as a lonely sad person.
Throughout the narrative, we get glimpses of flashbacks that set up the more current goings-on. Each one offers the viewers a greater context behind the thought-process of Lee, his former relationship with his ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams), and even earlier interactions with young Patrick out on Joe’s fishing boat. It is through these we come to understand why Lee is so reluctant and resistant to take on all of these responsibilities, despite wanting to respect Joe’s posthumous wishes. With everything having come to a head, Lee is forced to acknowledge the greatest factor in all of this, his past.
Catharsis (and Spoilers)
To me, this isn’t a film that truly warrants a “spoiler” warning. Much like the content of the film, it is worth tackling head-on in a way that allows just as the heading says, “catharsis.”
When I walked out of this movie, I didn’t feel like I could say anything about it. It felt real; arguably, it was too real. To say anything that vaguely resembled criticism would be almost self-deprecating. While the events that transpire within Manchester don’t fully reflect events that I have experienced, but I have dared myself to find a film that I connected, or even sympathized, with more. I failed to do so.
Manchester By The Sea has a few choked-up-worthy moments, including a seemingly inconspicuous trip to the grocery store after Lee shuffles his buddies out of his house at 2 AM. Lee trudges down to the store, too drunk to drive, and when he returns, his house is on fire. Randi is being held back by police and firefighters both as she screams, “My kids are in there!” Lee stands in awe as his life unravels before his eyes.
Following this, we see another flashback of the next day, where Lee is being questioned by police at the station about what caused the fire. It is then to be revealed that the fire may have been Lee’s fault, as a log he placed in the fireplace has begun to smolder and rolled out onto the carpet to set the home ablaze. Lee recalls not putting up the gate in front of the fireplace. Lee is let-off, scot-free, much to his own surprise. “We’re not gonna crucify you, Lee. It was an accident.” Even despite having admitted to smoking marijuana, getting drunk, and possibly dabbling in cocaine, Lee is dumbfounded to be set free. Upon confirming he has a ride home with his brother and father with police, he walks out of the interrogation room, and with that oft-noted Lee Chandler moment of hesitation, he swipes a gun off of an officer and presses the gun to his temple. He is tackled and smothered by officers and his family before he is able to commit the deed.
Fuck.
Over the course of the film, whenever Lee is faced with a difficult decision, he crumbles. That one-time-family-man Lee turns into a disheveled and drunken bar-brawler because he has no other way of coping with the shit he’s had to deal with in his life. He drinks heavily. He fights. He punches the walls. These are all textbook examples of behaviors belonging to a lot of different mental ailments, but perhaps most importantly, Manchester serves as a reminder of the crippling effects PTSD. And that is something I can connect with.
I lost my mother when I was twelve years old. Not only is it something that I have accepted in the past thirteen years, but it has become a part of who I am today. It has shaped me in many ways, including serving as a catalyst for my successes in my young adult life. In 2013, my father was dramatically affected by the explosion of an apartment building right next door to where we used to life. He has been living with the harmful effects of smoke inhalation, minor scars from the burns he received, but the most devastating thing he’s had to deal with is PTSD.
It’s hard to understand why people with PTSD do what they do. To them, it is rational thinking, but within the confines of constant neurotic turmoil. It is safe to say that my father is not the same person today as he was five years ago. It’s been an incredibly difficult experience since then, but it comes with a mutual understanding between my father and I: life is full of bumps, barriers, hazards, and breakdowns, but how we deal with these things is what makes us who we are. My father’s PTSD has slowed him down immensely, but that has not stopped him from continuing to support his family, work his steady job, and try to make the most of a terrible situation.
In many ways, watching Casey Affleck’s brilliant performance as Lee Chandler sparked a range of mixed emotions. When I saw Lee Chandler on-screen, I saw my father over and over again: a past (or present for Lee) of alcoholism, the distant relationships with family and friends, and disengaged conversations. Manchester felt almost too real, too relatable to my life. From taking place in New England (seeing as I am from mid-coast Maine), the range of botched New England accents, catching Bruins hockey games on TV, right down to the fricking forest green Carhartt jacket that Lee wears, which I am convinced is the same one my dad still owns today.
Strengths
1. The acting in this movie is easily the best thing about it.
The combination of Casey Affleck and Michelle Williams, despite her limited supporting role, is one for the books. Affleck, calling it now, will win the Best Actor Oscar for this role. Lee Chandler is a tragic character in every sense of the word. Affleck takes on Lee’s hopes and dreams, watches them all fall apart, and tries to pick up the pieces in such a way that we aren’t capable of discerning whether or not we should help him or continue looking on at the train wreck in front of us. Furthermore, Lucas Hedges’ portrayal of Patrick, whose accent isn’t terrible, is also sure to garner the Academy’s favor. Never before have I wanted to cry watching someone pick up frozen meat off the floor before amidst a panic attack.
2. Pacing and flashback sequences are on-point.
In a world where most movie-goers aren’t really interested in sitting through a two-hour sobfest, Lonergan’s writing and direction are paced brilliantly to make sure no one is bored. Every scene feels like it means something to the story, enhancing our views of Patrick, Lee, or the past with Randi and Joe. Each flashback gives us valuable insight and information that evokes profound emotion and shows passion for the story, structure, and characters on screen. No scene is too long or too short. It just feels right. Manchester is Ken Lonergan’s baby and we need to respect him for it.
Weaknesses
1. There’s one scene that needed to be in the movie.
Near the end of the second act of Manchester, Lee is running errands downtown and runs into Randi on the street. She offers him lunch or a cup of coffee, but Lee being Lee, he wants no part of it. She is upset, not with him, but with herself. She exclaims, “I love you,” which tugs at our heartstrings even more. Randi profusely apologizes to Lee, trying to find some vulnerability, some opening, to get him to come out of his shell. She says something to the effect of “I should burn in hell for all the things I said to you,” referencing the blame-game that ensued following the deaths of their children. It might be minor, but I wanted that scene. I think it would have pushed her performance over the edge, not just teetering, for a future gold statuette for Williams.
Conclusion
Manchester By The Sea is nothing short of powerful. Despite my cathartic gushing and wallowing, I wish to repeat that it’s been a long time, if not the first time, that a movie made me feel the things I felt watching this movie. Lee might not be the easiest character to empathize with, but damn is it hard not to root for him to turn his life around.
So yeah, it’s not just your computer or your internet that’s stopping you from logging in. You heard it here first. Or second, probably. Maybe even third.
You know, I was just starting to think that this year’s Winter Sale might make up for what I thought was an underwhelming Summer counterpart. Fix your stuff, Valve! I have a Holiday Bonus to spend!
UPDATE @ 4PM: IT HATH RETURNED (or it did about an hour ago)
My name is Will and I am not a Star Wars lifer. I’m not even a Star Wars quarter-lifer. I didn’t see my first Star Wars film until I reviewed in on my other blog, Dr. Awesome Film Reviews, back in 2013. It was a sweet experience, one that was filled with references that made me exclaim, “Yep, that was from Star Wars the whoooooole time.”
Since then, we’ve been blessed with two brand new additions to the canon, Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens, and now Rogue One. With TFA being stellar, Rogue One had big shoes to fill, since most other Star Wars prequels had been, well….terrible. So, with all of that out in the open, it’s safe to say that Rogue One was not only great, but it made people go out of their way to completely forget how to spell! What chaos!
The story of Rogue One is centered around a rogue one, Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones), who is the daughter of formerly-Imperial-scientist-turned-farmer-turned-saboteur-Imperial-scientist, Galen Erso (Mads Mikkelson). As a young girl, her father is taken from her by the Empire, more specifically by power-hungry Director Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn), as Galen has the scientific book-smarts to help the Empire build a super-weapon capable of destroying planets. Wait for it…the Death Star. Flash forward approximately fifteen years and Jyn finds herself amidst Rebellion-led attempts to desperately seek intelligence about this new weapon. She falls in with an Alliance officer, Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), as they scour various planets and moons seeking information that would lead them to Jyn’s father and/or the building of the Death Star.
When on the moon Jedha, they are taken captive by the extreme militant, Saw Gerrara (Forest Whitaker), aka Mr. “I CAN’T ESCAPE MY FALLOUT POWER ARMOR COSPLAY,” who not only has information about the whereabouts of Galen, but also a defected Imperial pilot who aids in their quest and a hologram message from Galen himself. Within this message, we are exposed to the secret plot conducted by Galen all along: he specifically sabotaged the construction of the Death Star, the single easily-overlooked weakness that we’ve all come to know and understand from the original Star Wars film. Cassian and Jyn work together, alongside the Alliance’s rebellion, to seek out the plans for the construction of the Death Star so the Alliance can work to destroy it (in future films).
Note: beyond this mark, there be spoilers. AHHHHHHHHHHH!
Okay, so, there’s some great stuff going on here. Like every film, the movie has incredible strengths and somewhat devastating weaknesses. To really flesh these ideas out, I’m going to directly and indirectly spoil some key sequences. You’ve been warned.
Strengths
1. The supporting cast is easily the best thing about this movie.
Without the supporting actors, this script flops. Key members of the ensemble like Whitaker, Mendelsohn, and Donnie-Facking-Yen really make this movie great. While Whitaker’s character is merely a stepping stone that gets rolled in the destruction of Jedha, Whitaker gives this character life. He’s described as an “extremist,” yet he’s awfully soft-spoken. That’s what makes him terrifying. There’s a really unsettling scene of Saw using a miniature Godzilla villain to nearly lobotomize the Imperial pilot. No thank you.
Krennic’s capture of Galen in the opening scene inevitably led him to seize more power within the Empire’s hierarchy. Mendelsohn’s performance is what dreams are made of; he’s great as a slimy, conniving, corrupt, and fear-inducing villain that’ll do anything to please Vader and the Emperor. Naturally being Australian, Mendelsohn’s rage slips in and out of accent, but y’know, I don’t care. It makes the anger more believable.
Donnie Yen, probably best known for the Ip Manfranchise, plays a pivotal role in the supporting cast. He is one-part Legolas, one-part Ip Man, and one-part blind comedic relief. In the scene where Gerrara’s men capture him alongside Jyn and Cassian, he is hooded and dragged away. In doing so, he yells, “Are you kidding me? I’m blind!” Not a single person in the theater wasn’t dying of laughter.
2. Darth Vader is still too cool for Jedi school.
Holy shit. Man. Vader has two scenes in the movie, but it’s not like the Joker inSuicideSquad. MOTHERFUCKERS EVEN GOT JAMES EARL JONES IN ON THIS. Phew. Okay. I’m ready.
Vader’s presence is often alluded to early on, specifically by Krennic. Once we see him, both in burnt-skin-sitting-in-my-spa form and the classic heavy-breathing version, it evokes nothing but the classic sense of terror, suspense, and fanboy nostalgia that every 40-something felt seeing the original iteration in theaters back in the late 1970s. As for a real spoiler, Vader’s last scene, in the final five/seven minutes of the film, is nothing short of breathtaking. You watch it, you see the Alliance officers skittering like rats into a sewer grate, and you just have to say, “Those dudes are fuuuuuuuucked.”
3. The Star Wars realm continues to be vast and awesome.
Much like my first time viewing the original trilogy, this film continuously had me blown away by the creative worlds, characters, and creatures that inhabit each one. Whether its the former Jedi Temple’s home of Jedha, the Imperial base on the tropical planet, Scarif, or Eadu, the mining planet that has more lightning strikes than Florida, these places are immense and can be easily recollected because of their unique characteristics.
Weaknesses
1. Jyn Erso fits the mold as an unlikable protagonist.
The more I thought about this idea, the more it made sense. Jyn Erso is not that interesting, but rather a more plastic and less versatile Rey. The writers and new-age Star Wars-think-tankers, I’m sure, are gunning to revitalize the narrative of “female protagonists in male-dominated genres are what we need!” Yes, that is technically accurate. However, Jyn’s narrative is one that is fraught with skepticism. Do they trust her? No. Can she command the audience in an Alliance town-hall meeting? You bet your sweet bippy. But how did they establish that trust? It’s kind of loose justification, especially if you’re leaning on her biggest critic, Cassian. I guess having him feel guilty about maybe sniping Galen without her knowledge is enough. Maybe it isn’t.
Just as characters are dying left and right on screen, we feel more connected to them and their struggles than hers. “Rebellions are built on hope” she says in the trailer. Apparently Cassian’s lines aren’t the only thing she steals from this movie. Lord of the Rings fans (at least many of them) will tell you similar struggles with how whiny and childish Frodo is, and even some Star Wars fans will tell you how much they find Luke Skywalker to be equally insufferable. Jyn just doesn’t cut it. She’s got the personality of a clipboard, yet we are compelled to follow her to the end of her journey.
2. Game of Thrones character arcs are a tough pill to swallow.
Are you familiar with the story of the 300 Spartans? A rogue group of soldiers are sent on their way like some kinda “suicide squad” to defeat an insurmountable empire? Ring any bells? It should, because Rogue One is a glorified, albeit more interesting, version of that story.
In the same vein, Game of Thrones appears. On the ride home from the movies, my fiancee was particularly upset with the fact that almost every single new character from Rogue One dies. Jyn, Cassian, Donnie Yen, Krennic, Donnie Yen’s bodyguard who probably has a name, Galen, Saw Gerrara. All of ’em. Whether it’s in battle with the Empire on Scarif, getting planet’d to death on Jedha, or totally eating your words and getting Death-Starred (I’m looking at you, Krennic), they’re just super dead. In fitting the mold of the 300 Spartans mythos, they have to die. They don’t exist in A New Hope. They are the soldiers sent, or in this case volunteered, to be slaughtered for the rebellion. My fiancee is not wrong. It doesn’t feel great to watch the characters that you establish a connection with die on-screen. The difference here is that it doesn’t feel gratuitous like Game of Thrones, where killing characters is the sport of choice for George R.R. Martin. They serve a purpose; they’re not red shirts. We care for these characters, but we also know what’s coming: a new hope.
Conclusion
Rogue One is a bonafide hit. It hits all the right notes, pulls your heart strings, and generates a lot of empathy and laughs alike. While the inevitable heat death of most of the characters isn’t awesome, the fact that easily-recognized characters emerge pre-Episode IV, including a CGI Moff Tarkin, is a nice throwback for fanboys and movie-goers everywhere. It should also be said that this is easily the most ethnically diverse cast ever assembled for a Star Wars flick. Sure we got John Boyega and Daisy Ridley for Episode VII, but this is different. This feels bigger. I can see great things coming on the horizon for this franchise.
Game Mechanics 
