Understanding movies will ruin them

I like to know how things work.  I like taking something apart and figuring out how to put it back together, with new knowledge or why it works.  I want to understand how something works and why it works the way it does and usually the best way to do that is to take it apart, examine each individual part, figure out what that one part does and how all those parts fit together, then rebuild it so that it works again, because if it doesn't then that means you've missed something and don't fully grasp how it works at all.  Blame it on Lego and K'nex I had when I was a kid, I guess, but I rarely, if ever, consider it a bad thing to want to understand why something works the way it does.

However, movies are probably the one thing I wish I didn't dissect, trying to piece together what works in a film and what doesn't, because now every film I watch is something I'm constantly thinking about and dismantling in my head, which is bad since a key part of how film works is that you don't actively think about it, you experience it.  Films work their best when you're free to watch and listen and not think, because thinking brings you out of the film and back into reality, and it's pretty hard to sell another reality when you're still in this one.

This isn't to say I don't want to understand film, or that the knowledge I have of film is something that leads to me enjoying films less than I used to be able to, which just isn't true.  But it does mean that there isn't as much magic in movies as there used to be, a point I've been reminded of when I read Film Nerd 2.0 today, which is a blog where a father details how certain movies he shows his sons go over with the younger crowd, kids unaware of things like genre conventions or foreshadowing.  It's really entertaining to read about how these kids react in ways that filmgoing adults simply can't anymore, thanks to years of experience with film and television that grants us incredible insight into the inner workings of character and plot, even if you don't actively think about it you can still recognize patterns when you see them.

What got me back to writing in my blog was reading these kids going through Star Wars for the first time, and due to the way his blog is setup I can't just link to the first entry in Facebook and expect you to be able to read them all, cause he's also a film critic so he's got mountains of other things to read that need to be sorted through to find these entries.  So I figured I'd collect them here and expand on some of my own reactions reading, well, their reactions.

First up, A New Hope, aka the first Star Wars, which is naturally followed up by The Empire Strikes Back.  However, the next film he chooses to show his kids is The Phantom Menace, which is an interesting choice but makes perfect sense when you think about it for a moment, as that allows Attack of the Clones much better impact and importance than it would have had without calling back on the original movies, and makes the darker aspects of Revenge of the Sith work beautifully to contrast the grand finale of Return of the Jedi.

I love the energy and enthusiasm that these two kids show for Star Wars, because it's a kind of energy that I simply can't muster for the series myself.  The prequels are bad films, straight up not worth the time it takes to watch them, and the originals are great but don't hold the same kind of power they had over me when I was a kid because now I can't see it as more than a series of technical achievements.  This line was delivered nicely, that scene had great lighting, that set must have cost a small fortune, that was a bad FX even in '77 but I can understand why they'd keep it if they didn't have enough time or money to replace it.  The Star Wars movies have lost their magic to me, and while I can appreciate them in other ways now, I can't see them with fresh eyes anymore.

This isn't to say I can't be captured by movies at all, basically everything by Pixar is able to grab me and take me away from this mundane reality, but after seeing the same old tricks done over and over again I can't help but get distracted at some point and start trying to peel away at the edges of the screen, looking for that shot where he's got a cigar in his mouth but switch camera's and it's suddenly in his hand, or that fight scene where it's obvious that kick didn't connect but they used the camera to hide that from us and added a kick sound effect so we wouldn't notice, or how blatantly racist early Disney movies are when you step back a little and think about what they're actually singing during that swinging jazz number.

I don't regret in the slightest knowing how things work behind a camera... but if I was given the chance to give up that knowledge, I'd have to think about it for a bit.

Some Batman Talk

I played Arkham Asylum a couple of years back, and thought it was the greatest Batman game I'd ever played.  I finished Arkham City a month back, and thought that was the greatest Batman game I've ever played.  Today, I've finally put some thought into why these games are the greatest Batman games I've ever played.

When I had called Arkham Asylum great, it was because I'd never before played a game where I felt like I was Batman, and putting aside all the fanservice the game had, that feeling of "being" Batman made Asylum the default "greatest Batman game ever."  But with City, I had already experienced "being" Batman, and that alone would no longer be enough, there had to be more to the game than just that, or at least, that's what I had thought.  But Arkham City was basically just that, that feeling of "being" Batman, only taken even further.  It fixed what didn't work in Asylum, namely the boss fights, added even more fanservice and easter eggs, plus made two of my favourite villains of the Batman gallery primary villains who played rather large parts in the story.  (one is Hugo Strange, who was the best part of "The Batman" series that nobody watched, the other is the final boss of the game, who was a legitimate surprise that I won't ruin for anyone who hasn't played the game themselves)

I could go more indepth about why the games "feel" so good, but I won't because the important part to take away from all this is that these games just feel good to play, and that's the key to what makes both of them great.  If you're still confused, then as an example, think about how, if you look at Mario games, there's not much about the characters or the world they inhabit that's all that special or great, but pick up and play the games and it's surprising how much fun can be had while playing them, because the games simply feel good to play.  That's what makes Mario games some of the greatest games ever made, and that's what makes these two Batman games the best Batman games ever made.


If you're wondering what got me talking Batman games and where I'm going with this, then you can go over and read Film Crit Hulk's musings about Batman right about now, because that's what got me on this line of thought in the first place, and also in thinking about how the games failed even while they succeeded.

The reason I haven't brought up the story as being great in either game till now is simple: the story in both games is a vehicle for fanservice, and little more.  Go ahead and think about the themes both games present.  Having a hard time thinking about it?  That's cause there isn't really a theme to the narrative.  It's a framing device, a tool used to set objectives and direct you to the next encounter.  Story in both games is an almost tangible thing the developers used to give you things to do in the game while you were busy being Batman.

The same goes for the characters, or as I like to call them, liberal helpings of fanservice.  Tell a Batman fan that the Mad Hatter is in Arkham City, and they'll be giddy with excitement to find him and beat him up.  When asked by a Batman fan what the Mad Hatter's role in Arkham City is, and it'll boil down to finding him and beating him up.  Same goes for everybody else. 



Penguin, for example, is not a fallen billionaire who's also had his parents murdered, and the way he dealt with their deaths with his life choices were the opposite of those Bruce Wayne chose, thus making him a twisted reflection of Batman who wishes to spread crime and chaos instead of stop it.  No, Penguin is a guy in Arkham City who leads a gang of thugs that you must beat up before you can reach him and beat him up.  Nothing more, nothing less.

Oh, don't get me wrong, the struggle to get to Penguin to beat him up is hugely enjoyable; avoiding the traps he's set, saving the police he's holding hostage, beating up the thugs he's hired, dealing with the surprises he throws at you and finding a way around the freeze gun he's stolen from Mr. Freeze is a very nerve-wrecking, tense, exciting and FUN experience.  But it's not all that deep.

I recognized this in the first game, and I was still able to enjoy the game because it simply felt so good to play.  I don't mind that the story was merely leading me from one bad guy fight to another, like a roller coaster.  If I wanted a deeper experience, the Burton and Nolan and Timm versions of Batman are still there for me to watch anytime I wanted.  I'm perfectly fine with Rocksteady's Batman games being little more than fanservice fests where you can face off against a dozen super-villains in a single night and still win the day.  Because that's what it feels like being Batman.  And that is fun as hell.

Thinking PeTA Thoughts

Right, so I said I'd do something here... and I will, but first, a thought:

What do you think about things you don't normally think about?

Not much, I'm guessing, which is exactly how much I thought about PeTA for the longest while. They struck me as attention grabbers who don't actually do anything worthwhile, and that was all I ever thought about them for the longest time because I've never actually bothered to look into what they are about and what they do. PeTA doesn't cross into my circle of interests, so I can safely ignore them and not think about them.

But then MovieBob did an episode of the Big Picture on them, and now I'm thinking about them.



Gruesome stuff, and counter-intuitive at that. And now I'm thinking about PeTA, digging into some of the things they've done, most of which is just as horrible as what Bob decided to put into his show. Now I don't think of PeTA as just loons who pull attention stunts for money they don't do anything with, I think of them as loons who pull attention stunts for money that they spend on killing animals by the thousands.

It's funny, isn't it? How little we actually think about what we see. I thought of PeTA as bad, and thought a lot of what they did was bad, but genocidal wasn't anywhere in there because that's not what they're about, or at least, I thought that wasn't what they were about. I didn't put any thought into my decision on them beyond the few facts I've learned over the years. How long did I take to form that decision, anyway? When did I form my opinion on PeTA, and why did I just leave it at that and move on?

Just something I've been thinking about, is all.

And so it begins...

Welp, here it is. My own blog.

Kinda... kinda empty around here, but no worries! I have plans! I have made this blog with plans!

What plans?

Plans that... have yet to be properly developed... yeah.

Okay, so mostly I'm gonna be parroting smart people when they open their mouths and say something I can agree or disagree with (and there are no promises that they will actually be smart people), mostly topics involving movies or games because those are the two things I can talk about for hours on end without tire, and eventually plans bring about things that will bring about content!

Stick around, I'm only just getting started...