Relativity

  • Reading time:3 mins read

With (what appears to be) the untimely return of Geese, it occurs to me that the best way to illustrate the SNK universe is to use a number of parallel timelines. They often cross-reference each other, to the extent that the events in any one probably are reflected elsewhere — yet they aren’t necessarily equal in all cases.

It’s clear that KoF, FF/AoF/Buriki, Kizuna, and Last Blade all take place in a wide interrelated universe. It is implied in a number of places that Samurai Spirits is part of the same universe, even though it doesn’t much affect anything outside itself. (Nor does Last Blade, really, aside from the fact that one of the characters is supposed to be related to Eiji.) And yet — as some people have observed in the past — the series are not always compatible. And it’s getting to the point where one can’t easily just chalk it down to revisions, retcons, and errors. Perhaps it’s best to think of this universe as comprised of many threads wound together, that happen to touch in many places.

So if one were to make a coherent SNK timeline, one would perhaps do well to have — for example — a certain colour-coding scheme. For all practical purposes, one may assume that events outside of a certain colour label probably happened in the others, as long as there are no conflicts — and yet this is not necessarily the case. This allows a loose-tied, undefined ongoing continuity and prevents battles over issues such as the apparent revision of the Art of Fighting timeframe for the sake of King of Fighters.

Anything outside of a given series, one can either ignore or assume is present in at least some form — if not precisely the one specified — depending on the circumstance.

So in the King of Fighters continuity, it appears that the events of Real Bout never occurred — at least, as things stand now. Even in the Fatal Fury continuity, Real Bout Special and RB2 never occurred — yet some of the characters introduced there appear elsewhere (like during the NESTS saga). And yet something comparable to Fatal Fury 1, 2, and 3 must have occurred — and it looks like Mark of the Wolves is probably supposed to occur in some form.

What makes this all a little weird is that MotW is supposed to take place in New South Town — which, one would presume, would have been constructed after South Town was destroyed (at least in part) in KoF2000. Yet in 2003 (from what little has been revealed), the old South Town appears to be just fine — Geese and all. Maybe each KoF era needs its own colour code, as there are other weird continuity issues to distinguish the three plot arcs so far. Still, up until 2003, things tended to fit pretty well without much qualification — AoF aside.

Hmm…

This is all an exercise in organization, note. It does not pay to be too literal with things of this sort.

Post-production

  • Reading time:2 mins read

You know, the DVD format has its uses.

I think much of the trouble in Jackson’s The Two Towers lies in the editing. There are any number of ways this film could have been assembled. He chose a distracting one. If you isolate the two major story threads, they each flow well (aside from that endless elfy flashback sequence). As the film is assembled, however, they keep interrupting each other.

Following the structure of the original book, it seems to work best to put the Aragorn/Gimli/Legolas/Merry/Pippin material first, then to switch to Frodo and Sam. The question is when to do this. It would be more than a little weird to wait until the end of the one plot, then to rewind and start the other.There is a built-in cutaway point, however, in the Aragorn plot. In a scene in the extended version, Aragorn sits outside of Fangorn while Gandalf discusses the plot. The scene ends with the two of them talking about Frodo and Sam. Then — in this version — we cut away to maybe the second or third Sam/Frodo sequence.

Why not just wait until then to start their major story? It’s a perfect cue. Aragorn tells Gandalf that Frodo has Sam with him. Gandalf is pleased. So let’s see what Frodo and Sam are up to.

The Gandalf sequence at the start is still a good device. It’s just, cut away to the first Merry and Pippin scene after Frodo realizes that it was only a dream and lies back down. Then I suppose it works to cut away again, when Frodo and Sam first meet Faramir. Finish the first plot, then do the last hunk of the Frodo/Sam plot. (There’s not much left, after that point.) And get rid of that big elfy flashback. And. The movie might actually flow, as a coherent unit.

Hmm… I bet there’s a program feature in here somewhere…

EDIT: This thought train is continued here.

Islands in the Night

  • Reading time:1 mins read

Just as I prefer warmth against cold over warmth for its own sake, I believe that I prefer light against darkness over light for its own sake. One lamp in the living room, lit for the sake of reading; one lamp above the stove in the kitchen, through the doorway on my right, to give depth to the world. Two islands in the night. I am safe where I am. If I wish to move, I have a destination. I can connect the dots on my own.

In the same vein, it is easier to drive at night. Headlights create their constant island before me, drawing me onward into the only world that exists; the only possible desination. Safety is always just ahead, and that’s where I’m headed.

Anything else is overstimulation. Excess. It’s too much. It has no curve. Light has no meaning unless there is something to be lit. Warmth has no meaning unless there is someone to be warmed. Everything needs context, or else it is merely noise.

And then there is sound.

A chance for Jackson, director of Hobbits, to prove his quality

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Here’s a clear example of the character illustration that has been re-implemented in the extended version of the movie.

In a flashback, Faramir remembers a meeting with his brother Boromir and his father Denethor. Denethor dismisses and insults Faramir a bit, then assigns Boromir the task to ride to Rivendell and claim the One Ring for Gondor. Boromir is crushed. Faramir offers to ride in Boromir’s place, as it is clear that Boromir would prefer to stay with his people. Denethor scoffs. “A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to prove his quality?” He mocks Faramir some more, then sends Boromir on his way.

Some time later, Faramir realizes that Frodo has the Ring. He confronts Frodo, and pulls the ring from under Frodo’s vest with the tip of his sword. He stares, transfixed. “A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to prove his quality…” Frodo freaks out and runs off into the corner, as Faramir stares on, perplexed.

Later, after Faramir puts the pieces together and decides to let Frodo go (at his own risk), Sam thanks Faramir and comments that he has “proved his quality”.

So. We’ve a character arc here. The entire episode was structured as a test, for Faramir. And, in the end, he passed it. He just needed to work a few things out first — like, for instance, what about him was being tested.

The first and the third mention are absent in the theatrical cut. We’re just left the middle bit, where Faramir prods Frodo with his sword. We’ve no context for why he does this, or why he decides to let Frodo go. We just have actions, without meaning.

This principle can be extended throughout most of the movie. The extended version still has some problems, and not all of them are of this nature. As I said before, I don’t think the movie can be fixed. Not entirely. Still, it’s a little better.

EDIT: I continue this thought train here.

Great Ex-Spectorations

  • Reading time:3 mins read

So I’ve got a copy of Let It Be… Naked, now.

And. It sounds good. There are the obvious tracks like “The Long and Winding Road”. Yes, yes. What impresses me more is the difference in sound quality and general engineering decisions with pieces like “I’ve Got a Feeling”. What a difference dynamic range and tonal saturation can make.

Hell. Did you know there was an organ in the background? In theory, it sustains most of the tension while Paul goes all Helter Skelter on top of it. In Phil Spector’s version, it’s not there! Well, barely. Now that I’m listening for it I can hear its faint buzz, way in the back. It almost sounds more like feedback than an instrumental voice.

Similarly, the opening chord — at first glance, it sounds like the top note is entirely different. I thought the new mix must run at a different tape speed (as with “Across the Universe”). No; it’s just that Spector was a dumbass and cut off almost the entire upper end of the spectrum. That’s why the entire album sounds like it’s being played from inside a tin can.

Well, that’s repaired. Forgotten details (like backing vocals) have been brought back to the foreground and balanced properly. We’ve got intelligent stereo separation. All of the meaningless, cute banter has been stripped away and (where it seemed salvageable) thrown onto disc two.

The effect is that this indeed does sound like a live (and often accoustic) performance — in comparison to some ancient, faded, muddy artifact dug out of a deep hole and dressed up with a string arrangement. It’s got warmth. And. The songs have some impact that they didn’t have before. Heck, now I understand what the guitars are doing. In many cases, they were an inpenetrable fog. It seems there is, however, musicianship at work. How interesting!

And yes, “The Long and Winding Road” has become listenable. Now I might not skip it. Not every time.

Consider this: George’s picture on the front isn’t as frightening anymore. I think that says… well, what does it say? Before he leered at John with inhuman teeth. Now he looks depressed. I suppose you could call that an improvement. I’d try to relate it to the fact that the man is dead, if it weren’t that I just watched him play Pac-Man not much over six months ago.

On another note, here’s a quote from the inside of the traycard:

Thank you for buying this music and for supporting the artists, songwriters, musicians, and nothers who’ve created it and made it possible.

Please remember that this recording and artwork are protected by copyright law. Since you don’t own the copyright, it’s not yours to distribute. Please don’t use Internet services that promote the illegal distribution of copyrighted music, give away illegal copies of discs or lend discs to others for copying. It’s hurting the artists who created the music. It has the same effect as stealing a disc from a store without paying for it.

Well! That’s a different tactic.

EDIT: I like the last paragraph here.

Attack Patterns

  • Reading time:1 mins read

A couple of observations.

The “Mars People” from the Metal Slug series strongly resemble the top-row aliens (second from the bottom, here) in Space Invaders. This doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me.

Samus Aran’s space ship, from the Metroid series, bears a close resemblance to the enemy ships in Radar Scope — the early Space Invaders clone from Nintendo (which flopped and was later reworked into Donkey Kong). This is probably a coincidence. Maybe, however, not!

EDIT: HA HA

“‘Warners is afraid that Revolutions won’t sell very well because of the word of mouth on the movie. The only way to make the money on sell-through is to package it with the other two.’ The retailer went on to say that the number of requests for the film have dropped significantly since the film’s opening day.

Wait for the Special Revised Edition, perhaps?

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Sounds like even still, The Two Towers is kind of messed-up. It continues to lack its ending sequence. I wondered why Peter Jackson chose to save the last bit of wrapup with Saruman for the third movie, unless it was just to have Chrisopher Lee’s name in the credits (as with the weird Arwen scenes in the second film).

But. Here’s the sequence:

The conclusion at Isengard was chopped out of the theatrical release because the theatrical release was a rough hack kept together with bailing wire anyway, and that scene made the movie too long for New Line to like it. (You might notice how disconcertingly aprupt the movie’s end happens to be.) So, Peter Jackson figured he’d just splice this sequence into the beginning of RotK.

Since up until just this past week or so he still assumed he was going to do this, the proper ending isn’t in the extended version of TTT. It has now occurred to Peter Jackson that it’s kind of odd to have this leftover business at the outset of the third film, so as a result he’s excised it from the theatrical version of RotK — as lengthy as this cut might be.

And now also as a result, the ending to The Two Towers won’t be seen until the extended version of Return of the King — two full years after the film’s original release.

Yikes.

He really needs to go back through and edit these films a third and final time, when he’s no longer under pressure. I know he intends to. It’s just. Maybe that’ll be the proverbial charm for the middle film. Include everything that needs to be in there. Remove or rework the pointless bits. And just redo the cross-cutting from scratch.

From this distance, it sounds and looks like the third film will be more akin to the quality of the first. As well it should, given the comparably ample time he’s had this time around. (One wonders whether New Line will be able to drag him out for the months of Oscar schmoozing nonsense this year. One wonders if it’s necessary.)

EDIT!

I (kind of) like this review.

EDIT MORE OOG!

This one, meanwhile, fails on more than two levels.

EDIT AGAIN!

Although it fawns, this impresses me in its particular way. (I got used to the affectations by the end.)

Chasing Harry Lime

  • Reading time:3 mins read

This piece does not a bad job of summing up my attitude toward… things. Videogames, sure. The last paragraph in particular illustrates why I’m baffled at the animosity often directed toward critics. And the better they do their job, it seems the more they’re resented.

Then, I guess my experience in school should have prepared me for people’s reactions when you begin to ask questions.

This summer I witnessed, in the Gaming Age forums, a person’s hate-drenched response to Insert Credit‘s big videogame journalism article. This fellow claimed to be involved with game development. He went on about how vile and useless critics were. What do they know. They don’t make the games. (I should note here that some of the best filmmakers, poets, and musicians have also been influential critics in their day.) I decided that I never want to play a game made by this person. It was clear to me that he didn’t have much interest in communicating.

Which makes me wonder why he ever got involved in the videogame business. Perhaps because he wanted to Make Videogames, without really understanding what that means. Perhaps he became dazzled with, and ego-attached to, the idea of Being a game developer. Or he came to worship the games themselves.

This is compared to… well. Because he felt he had something to say, and this seemed a good way to express himself.

If the latter were the case, he’d want intelligent criticism. He’d want interaction. He’d want to see if his message got across — and if not, what the alternate interpretations might be.

If the former were the case, he wouldn’t. Because he’d be afraid that his world would shatter.

It sounds to me like he’s in the wrong profession, if it causes him that kind of insecurity. And again, what kind of a game would a guy like this make?

I received a puzzled email not long ago, in reference to a passing comment in an old entry of mine. I’d mentioned that we could do without any more people making videogames who want to Make Videogames. I suppose the above is a part of what I meant.

It doesn’t stop with videogames, of course. Artists, writers, politicians… really, anything that a person might do with himself. I suppose this — the motivation to Be Things through doing — is all a side effect of our goal-oriented society. And perhaps, to some extent, of that perennial whipping boy, The Media. (Hey, I’ve got to throw it in somewhere.) If you’re not somebody, you’re nobody. Just ask your grandmother who wanted you to grow up and be a famous lawyer or a rich doctor or the President. Just look to all of the people who’ve asked you what you want to be when you grow up. And to all of the people who look at you with a puzzled expression whenever you choose to study something without a direct practical application.

Hell, I need to go to sleep.