“The Cabin in the Woods” Review – Following a Template

I was initially compelled to watch Joss Whedon’s “The Cabin in the Woods” by an inconsequential Reddit image post featuring a scene from the movie. I probably would have seen it at some point, as I was curious when what little news about it first appeared, even though I still knew very little about the actual movie to completely draw me in. On the one hand, it was co-written by Joss Whedon, a well known lover of movies and comics and other geek stuff, in addition to his track record of being an imaginative writer, however the vague trailers and few paragraph information articles about the movie gave little indication of the actual plotline. Soon the knowledge of (or lack thereof) the movie even existing faded from my mind.

But on one random day, a random image on the Internet brought me back to “The Cabin in the Woods”, and I’m delighted to say I now consider it one of my favorite movies, and one of the better movies in general to be released this year. I still went into the viewing not knowing much in the line of plotline and genre, however in some initial research I learned it contained both horror and science fiction elements (two kinds of movies I enjoy). Even the few reviews I read portrayed little of what happens in the movie, and suggested that seeing it would be all the more enjoyable if you went in relatively blindfolded like I did. I would like to recommend this as well to anyone (anyone? hello?) reading this review, and while I’ll try my best to keep it as spoiler-free as possible, if you plan on seeing “The Cabin in the Woods” anytime soon please tread lightly, if at all.

The movie begins like any of the campy, so crappy its good horror movie clichés that unfortunately overlay the truly excellent and unique films in the genre with their terribly produced masses, leaving them to be the poster-children of horror movies. There’s the usual group of replaceable, branded college students going away on a spring break trip to this mysterious cabin recently purchased by one of the characters apparent cousin. The early plotline follows this same generic, almost laughable template as the roles of the stupid blonde/whore, the jock/alpha male, the new guy/mandatory ethnic character, the comic relief/pothead (because our society labels them as one in the same), and the smart, nice girl that everyone is rooting for and usually survives the horrors that obviously await are introduced respectively.

Of course this cabin just happens to be in the middle of nowhere, “off the grid” as the template fool character explains from amongst his cloud of marijuana, and of course on their way there they meet a strange, ominous character that literally screams that this little getaway to this mysterious cabin just might be a bad idea, but college kids know everything (being one, I know) and they still blindly continue their ill-fated trip, because what could possibly happen? And this entire time I’m thinking in the back of my head that I would ultimately be disappointed by this film (and for one of the few times, Joss Whedon) and was tricked into watching the overused, predictable horror sequence that thrives on fake blood and lacks any character development or even common sense. However I held firm, slightly because of my unwavering faith in Joss Whedon’s creative ability but mainly because of the very, very first scene of the movie, which focused not on the group of future cadavers but on two vanilla business-men working for an unnamed corporation, watching and waiting through hidden cameras as the kids make their way to this cabin in the woods.

Then my excitement level doubles as the scene of the RV filled with horror movie fodder makes its way through a unsuspicious dark tunnel on the unsuspicious one way, single path to the cabin road, and the camera focuses on a bird that follows them across the giant chasm between the road before and after the tunnel, then unexpectedly (well expectedly if you’ve viewed the trailers) slamming into an invisible barrier as the kids obliviously drive by, trapping them inside. Then the fun really begins, when transitions between the now sexy party cabin, soon to be bloody murder cabin and the mysterious vanilla organization gradually feeds bits and pieces of information as to their apparent connection.

Now, as much as I want to discuss what happens afterwards, I will hold my tongue in order to save the awesome realization whoever may be reading this will go through during their own viewing of “The Cabin in the Woods”. I will say that the initial horror movie cliché is only the tip of the iceberg, and the horror genre soon morphs into more of a science fiction vibe, topped off by a scene that, as a monster movie enthusiast, gave me such an exuberant amount of glee that I had to re-watch it a couple more times after.

While the ending of the movie did leave a little to be desired, even though I thought it was the right way to do it, “The Cabin in the Woods” works as an excellent satire and voices the frustrations of many a horror movie aficionado on the state of the genre. There’s this irritatingly constant assembly line of completely oblivious groups of people that aggravatingly put themselves in the positions that we know will end up in their grisly and sometimes hilarious deaths, and this movie not only puts that into the spotlight, it does it even better than the uncountable SyFy-type movies do, even though that’s the entire point of those types of films. In fact, in this movie those doomed characters actually do gain some semblance of character development in their short time on screen than any of the others do in their movies movies, and then combines it with the excellently crafted correlation with the nameless corporation we see throughout the film. Of course, Joss Whedon incorporates his own dark humor and wit, and in combination with the buckets of blood spraying and splattering everywhere gave me an odd but satisfying combination of recoil and laughter as I viewed it.

“The Cabin in the Woods” is a must see for anyone who enjoys a good horror flick, and there are many shout-outs to the leaders in both the movies and other forms of horror pop culture. It’s surprising and refreshing, actually creating a sense of faith in a higher reason for why every year we see a new group of clichés getting dismembered on screen by some otherworldly creature. “Don’t go into the basement!” we’ll scream at the screen, but the character invariably does. “Stay together!” we’ll yell as the scared, irrational characters split up to cover more ground. All of the clichés are there, and it’s nice to see them in a different light, following the template that some one – or thing – created for a higher purpose, not just to watch five idiots panic and end up getting themselves killed in an outrageous fashion. But that can be fun sometimes too.

Legend of Korra Q2 Review, Or Book 1, or First Half of Season 1, or Something Like That

Damn you, creators of “The Legend of Korra”. I had my review system all set out; four reviews of roughly six or seven episodes each, but you just had to mess it up with your announcement of 26 additional episodes. Sure, I get more Avatar, but what’s the point if you’re going to render my perfect system obsolete? But seriously, I jest. I am thrilled that “The Legend of Korra” will be getting a second season, consisting of two more books set in the Avatar universe, and if I have to reconstruct my system (Keep the current episode amount per review? Review each book? Review the second half of the first season, then the entire second? THE POSSIBILITIES) I am perfectly contented with more content. As for the second half of Book 1, Air, it makes a solid conclusion of an equally solid continuation of the series I grew to love during “The Last Airbender”, if not cursed with the lack of knowledge that Korra would be getting many more episodes than the originally planned twelve. Also, *cough* SPOILERS */cough*.

My Q2 review, or whatever I decide on naming it under my new system, starts off with a bang; the first two episodes fixing a problem I had with in my review of the first half of the book of antagonist development. We learn supposed good guy and Mako love interest Asami’s father, Hiroshi Sato, was the mastermind behind the weapons used by the Equalists, finally giving us a face to the movement and adding the additional emotional attachment with his betrayal of Asami. In addition, supposed good guy but all around douchebag Councilman Tarrlok turns out to be the son of criminal bloodbender Yakone and turns on Korra as well.

Sticking to Tarrlok’s betrayal, Korra finally is able to connect with Aang during her imprisonment to learn of the councilman’s less than respectable ancestry. It’s nice to see the gaang as adults, especially my beloved Toph, and adding a quick backstory to Tarrlok suddenly propels him to one of the more developed enemies of this new series. It also sets up the twist at the end of the book, which I will get to later. However, one thing irked me during Tarrlok’s interactions with the council; why are the other members so easily manipulated? The other three mainly faceless members seem to dislike Tenzin for some reason, as every rash and seemingly hurtful act Tarrlok proposes, while all are adamantly opposed by the obviously more poised Tenzin in this time of crisis, are unquestionably agreed upon. It does show that while benders are mainly portrayed as strong willed individuals, even those with these special powers can become idiotic puppets for others with a cleverer disposition.

In addition to these two new antagonists, we learn the full extent of Toph’s daughter Lin’s overall badassery, which, other than possibly Tenzin or Zuko if he does make an appearance, has propelled her to my favorite character of this new Avatar series. Being Toph’s daughter doesn’t hurt either. At one point, when they were searching for the supposed secret underground factory of Sato’s, I found myself yelling at the screen when Lin wasn’t using the technique of seeing with her earthbending, something Toph obviously would have taught her, when only minutes later I am given the sweet satisfaction of her nonchalantly utilizing it not just then, but multiple other times in the covered episodes. While Toph’s blindness was never a hindrance per say, I believe that Lin has become an even better earthbender than her mother with the addition of sight and learning the metalbending technique from the beginning of her training. She has a soft side as well, assisting Tenzin with protecting his family and later sacrificing herself in one of the more heart-tugging scenes of “The Legend of Korra”.

Continuing with what I observed in the first half of Book 1, the darker undertone in this series compared to “The Last Airbender” is shown even more extensively in the second half. I believe this is mainly in the fact that Amon’s mysterious power to take bending away is the closest thing we will ever get to on screen deaths in a show aired on Nickelodeon. While it is obviously not as dark as actual execution, the way bending becomes integrated in a person’s personality and way of life makes it’s sudden disappearance all the more jarring, and when Lin loses hers at a time where I was unsure if she would ever get it back forced me to let a subconscious sob escape from my throat. “The Legend of Korra” also has some even darker actions towards the end of the first book, including attempted public execution and murder/suicide, and while I still believe that “The Last Airbender” overall contained the larger number of darker elements (there was mass genocide, and I made an argument on Reddit that Azula’s descent into madness was equally as dark), in such a short span of episodes the overall tone of this series definitely surpasses the original.

Now we come to the ending, which brought up many questions and complaints during my initial viewing of it. This review has taken a longer time to write because I wanted to re-watch the episodes and properly develop my opinion on the ending, and I believe I have come to a satisfying conclusion. Before I begin, however, I must lament on the fact that the creators thought they would only have the twelve episode miniseries to work with for this storyline, for that reason in my opinion is what hindered the context of the ending. It was very powerful; the reveal of Amon as a waterbender and Tarrlok’s brother was excellent, and Korra’s short but emotional battle with losing three of her four bending abilities (she gains control of airbending after Amon takes the others away) was tear-jerking, however the entire turnaround of these events happened in too little amount of time for me to be completely content.

It would have been nice for the creators to allow for a few more episodes for this story arc, even the twenty used in the first series would have worked, and it’s even more depressing now that we know there will be forty more episodes. I have always admired how the creators were able to stuff as much intriguing content in each episode of “The Last Airbender” as possible, and they continued this trend in “The Legend of Korra”. However this is one instance where the content being distributed over a greater number of episodes would have made the experience better, in my opinion. Many things happen in the final minutes of the last episode; Korra battles with the loss of her bending, then she suddenly gains control of both her spiritual connection with the past Avatars as well as the Avatar state. Tarrlok and Amon escape, seemingly off into the sunset, but Tarrlok kills them both in a gripping scene of retribution. Korra gains the ability to give bending back, which she does for Lin in another great scene. It just seems so rushed, which is consistent with how I felt earlier on in the series, and I would have liked to have been integrated into such a rich storyline a little more slowly, to savor the moments all the better.

Another thing that I didn’t quite enjoy about the ending was the aspect of teenage love between Korra and Mako. Sure, Aang and Katara were younger when they realized they were in love, but they experienced much more together than the other two, and in defense Aang was in love with Katara at first sight. Mako just suddenly professes his love for Korra, pushing aside both Asami and Bolin’s feelings in three short words, and Korra magically accepts his love in a sappy ending fit for most of the crappy romantic movies HBO loves to show three times a day. Once again, I feel it was rushed and doesn’t seem very genuine.

One other thing I initially was skeptical about but have come to terms with was Korra’s sudden control over the Avatar state when she finally gains access to it. Aang had to go through many trials in order to be able to control it, and having Korra initially have complete control confused, and in relation, angered me. I was waiting the entire book to have the struggle with the state be involved in the story, yet the Avatar state is never mentioned before she automatically gains control of it. However after taking some time to think about it, it makes sense. Aang, being an airbender, was already connected with the spirit world, which allows for initial access to the Avatar state. However, he had yet to master all four elements. So, if mastering the elements was necessary for control of the Avatar state, then that shows why Korra was able to use it so easily, for she was always very proficient with the other three elements, just not the one necessary for connectivity with the spirit world. So I was content, if not a little disappointed that there was little mention of it beforehand.

In conclusion, while I am very happy to hear about the extension of “The Legend of Korra”, I am slightly irritated that the creators didn’t just announce all the episodes from the beginning so they would be able to distribute and evolve this storyline in the way they so masterfully did in “The Last Airbender”. It’s nice to have the addition of new storylines now that there are many more episodes planned, but it kind of leaves the whole Amon and Equalist movement partially unfulfilled with its accelerated conclusion. Many of the characters in this new series have yet to be fully developed, especially Bolin, and hopefully the creators are able to accomplish that in the forty additional episodes, as character development is one of the main reasons both series have been appealing to me. In addition, I need more General Iroh and in relation, Zuko and his daughter. BRING ME ZUKO. The knowledge for both me and the creators now of these next three books hopefully will allow for both story and character development to match and even exceed that which was in “The Last Airbender”, and I will be able one day say that this series is the perfect addition to the already fantastic Avatar universe. But not quite yet.

The Games With No Ending

You know what really grinds my gears? When you’re playing an epic adventure game, to the tune of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time or Psychonauts, then after you put so much time and effort into completing and finally defeating the final boss you realize there is no further inclination that you did complete the game. It is the bane of the game with no ending, and it has been an unfortunate thorn in my side as an adventure gamer and aspiring game designer. Video games are, in their essence, lacking much of a physical reward for completing them. You don’t get a certificate or trophy once you emerge from the final dungeon and topple the final boss, only the surge of self-satisfaction that all the hours you have selflessly poured into this environment have come down to this final accomplishment. The game should at least give some kind of in game sign that you have finished all that could be, however in my experience some of the most rewarding games have ended in mild disappointment with their lack of this type of acknowledgement. WARNING: There may be some spoilers ahead, so proceed if you dare.

The first game I recognized this trend in was one of the first I ever played. Paper Mario always will have a special place in my heart for two reasons; it was an initial compliment to the surprise gift of a Nintendo 64 from my parents those many Christmases ago, and it was one of the many games I never completed the first time through, only to return to it years later and dispatch it with not much effort. I was held back for many years from the fulfillment of defeating 2D Bowser because of that blasted endless passage in his castle, but once I embarrassingly figured out the pattern I finally defeated the Koopa King with all that pent up rage from years of frustration. Alas, my accomplishment will never be realized by anyone other than myself, for once I returned to the title screen in order to check my status, there was no mark of my achievement anywhere to be found.

The game Psychonauts gave me the next and likely the most frustrating experience in this category. An adventure game at its core, this underrated gem from Double Fine also incorporated the collect-a-thon theme that I loved so much about gaming. I figured, once I did complete the game the fun wouldn’t end, for I would be able to return to the quirky environments afterwards and finish collecting all the extra things that needed collecting, like figments and scavenger hunt items and giant floating eyeballs. However it appears that it was not meant to be, as to my dismay when trying to return to the game after defeating the chilling final boss (or bosses, depending on how you look at it), I not only was placed back in the final area before the boss, I was given no route to return to all the past levels in order to finish collecting everything. And I was sad.

Recently I finally got around to playing The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and even wrote a review on one of the most widely debated game levels of all time, and was horrified to find that a game that was so close to perfect in every other regard of its design included this never-ending game trend. Being in the depths of my college life, I returned to and reluctantly abandoned the game over a few years, but after my graduation I forced myself to finally finish and realize the full extent of this amazing game, and defeated Ganon. Yet there it was again, the exclusion of any display of my hard journey to this final accomplishment. I actually sat and stared at the final scene of the game (which, I might add, wasn’t too bad seeing, as it was profoundly moving) to no avail. With no end in sight, I jumped up in frustration and slammed the power button down on the N64, never to return to the game again. Well, unless I want to replay it at some point. Which I probably will. But still. NEVER AGAIN.

Last but not least of the games I can recall using this despicable design flaw, the yet again underrated Baten Kaitos had unique gameplay combining turn-based strategy gameplay with the utilization of customizable card decks. I’ll admit that of all the games on this list, the never ending aspect was not its most jarring weakness, but adding it on top of the others certainly didn’t make the game any better. It was a unique and risky attempt, which is commendable in a present day where many game companies lean towards the easy path towards development (*cough* Call of Duty *cough*), yet it still, like the other games in this article, left a bad taste in my mouth when the completion of the very difficult final boss battle will never be realized within the game in any way.

The most frustrating thing about these games with no ending is I just don’t understand why game developers decide to leave out such a seemingly easy aspect of the game. Why not in Psychonauts just retexture Raz’s clothing to look like the turtle neck and terrible hairdo he gains at the end of the game, and allow the player to travel through all the levels again to collect the rest of the items? Why not just show some sort of mark or seal in the game that clearly shows that the player has completed it, like Raz’s clothing change or just as simply as a star next to the save file? I’m not asking for a completely new section of the game, something the designers after years of development might not have the energy to add just to appease my ridiculous demands; I just want some small sign of closure in a medium that naturally doesn’t have one other than personal satisfaction.

Some games do it right, and prove even further that ending the game in the way I desire is probably one of the simplest parts of the design process. Banjo-Kazooie is one example, adding on to the endless list of reasons why it is and always shall be my favorite game. Initially, when starting the game from system shut down, no matter how far you have advanced Banjo always begins at the entrance to Grunty’s lair. This isn’t even too much of a hindrance, as her lair works as sort of a base area connecting all of the other levels, and has portals placed throughout it to transverse to the further regions of the environment. Once the player has defeated Grunty, the game goes through all of the ending procedures, returns the character to the title screen, and when beginning your game again, Banjo appears at the entrance of the lair. Now, there really isn’t a showing of the game’s completion, but the way the game is designed allows the player to explore previous parts of the game after completion, and isn’t confined to the final area with any flexibility like in Paper Mario and Baten Kaitos. Final Fantasy Tactics Advance is another game does apply the display I describe, in the way that I explained before with a star next to the save file, showing that the player has completed the game and allowing for further gameplay even after the final boss was slain.

In conclusion, many of the games that I have experienced this flaw in are games that I hold dear to my heart, and it’s more depressing than frustrating that such masterpieces end in such a way. Now most modern day games do not end in such a way, or their design doesn’t allow for any kind of ending in this manner, however I still see some crop up here and there and it puzzles me to no end. There must have been some reason for the designers to allow their games to end this way, if anything just pure laziness towards the end of development, but every time I come across it the value of both the overall game and the time I put into their creation is lessened, and I wonder why they do not want me to have some kind of compensation for all my effort. I just want some closure dammit.

Donnie Darko Review: Some Men Just Want to Watch the World Burn

I finally decided to watch the cult hit Donnie Darko as I was perusing the new releases on Hulu Plus one night, after years of intentionally avoiding it for no clear reason. One of my good friends always quoted it and seemed amazed at the fact that I had not yet seen the movie, urging that it was one that I would enjoy. But alas, I fell into another ridiculous period of avoidance of a friend’s recommendation, and after finally giving in realized that I did indeed appreciate this film. This conclusion wasn’t reached easily, however, as the movie started off with a slow moving, bland, and confusing plotline headlined by some of my least favored actors. Though after reaching the excellent ending and pondering the overall meaning of Donnie Darko for a night, I was able to put aside my initial misgivings and notch the film as one that I thoroughly enjoyed and left me with exciting thoughts of psychology and fate.

At the beginning of the movie we see the unconscious protagonist Donnie Darko sprawled out in the middle of some mountainside road and awake in a daze to ride back to his suburban home. Here we meet his family, which is headlined by Donnie himself played by Jake Gyllenhaal and his sister Elizabeth, played by his real life sister Maggie Gyllenhaal. Here I must mention that I am not a fan of the Gyllenhaal acting family, and Donnie Darko didn’t much change my perceptions of them, with Jake channeling aloofness and confused facial expressions and Maggie bringing her usual smugness and annoying bitchiness to the table. If anything Jake Gyllenhaal probably fits best in Donnie’s role with his unappealing acting prowess, and I did find myself connecting to his character and the stress of loneliness he feels throughout the film.

Donnie is a troubled character, and we find out early on that he is seeing a psychiatrist because of his troubled past and is given some kind of medication. However this medication seems to be working in almost an opposing way to his psychological problems, for when we first see him take the pills we encounter his first vision of the recognizable bunny man named Frank. With his unsettling mask and echoing, almost gloomy voice, Frank warns Donnie of the upcoming “end of the world” and delivers cryptic messages of time travel and future events. During Donnie’s first vision, he is led from his home to wake up confused in the middle of a golf course, only to find out that in the night an inexplicable airplane engine crashed into his house that would have killed him if he had been in his room.

Over the course of Donnie Darko we are led through the twenty-eight days between Donnie’s initial vision and Frank’s predicted date of the end of the world, which follows Donnie and the effects some of his actions have on the citizens of Middlesex, his hometown. More visions ensue, one showing Donnie chopping at a water mane with an axe, which leads to the actual flooding of his private school. While Donnie appeared to have gotten away with it, this initiates a few different events to come into action: Donnie meets his love interest, Gretchen Ross, has one of his teacher’s (played with similar aloofness by Drew Barrymore) coursework scrutinized, as the book she assigns has an event eerily similar plotline to what happens at the school, and initiates a visit to the school by the local motivational speaker, Jim Cunningham.

At the same time we observe Donnie trying to sort out the visions and messages Frank keeps sending him and battle with his inner turmoil and fear of loneliness. One of the odd parts of the movie is how Donnie is increasingly becoming more withdrawn and sporadic because of his psychological breakdown, yet the people around him seem strangely oblivious to it. His parents ignore his pattern of “sleepwalking” and increasing misconduct in school, and his new girlfriend Gretchen also seems unfazed by his delinquency and periods of detachment. In fact, after he initially asks her out we don’t see them interact again for some time, and then we are just thrown back into their relationship as if nothing was amiss. In addition, he shows visible signs of his breakdown in front of her, but she doesn’t seem worried by it at all, even to the extent of accepting his quirks. It is hard to find attachment with any of these supporting characters if they are going to be stupidly ignorant of these obvious examples of destructiveness in our protagonist.

Donnie also forms some kind of a connection with a senile member of the community, nicknamed Grandmother Death, during his search for information about Frank’s messages and visions, realizing that she used to teach at his school and published a book on the philosophy of time travel. She also, in the only physical interaction between the two of them, instructs Donnie with the grim advice that “every living creature on Earth dies alone”. This connection opens up a lot of potential interesting plotlines; however it also is not developed at all after the initial conversation. Yes, she wrote a book that eerily explains some of the things Donnie has been seeing, and the overall theme of time travel hinges on his reading of her book, however it goes no further to advance the plotline, even creating a sequence that leads to some of the tragedy in Donnie’s life where he inexplicitly brings his friends to her house one night, only to run into a situation that leads to the death of Gretchen and the real world Frank, whom Donnie shoots.

Overall the plot of Donnie Darko has various holes and odd dead ends, and some of the events can be quite confusing up until the fantastic ending. Donnie drives off with the lifeless body of Gretchen as Frank’s countdown comes to a close, and he watches a wormhole form in the sky, engulfing an airplane with his mother and younger sister aboard, tearing it apart and sending one of the engines back in time. As we follow the engines journey, we return back to the scene where it crashes into Donnie’s house, but this time he is in his room. He smiles and laughs as the engine explodes through his roof and kills him. The movie ends with his body being taken away, surrounded by grieving family members, and Gretchen rides up to see what the commotion is about. When a local boy tells her of what happened and asks if she knew Donnie, we are left with the eerily delivered response of “No”, as she stares at his mother with a look of confused recognition in her face.

After the ending of Donnie Darko, I laid in my bed, contemplating the outcome of Donnie’s sacrifice. A troubled youth that seemed to be a burden to his loved ones and himself, Donnie seemed happy only once in the film, when he was facing his death. Thinking back to the sequence of events that happened when he initially avoided death, I realized that those around him largely benefited from his untimely (or is it timely?) demise. At least four people would live, more directly Gretchen and Frank, and indirectly his mother and sister, who wouldn’t have been on that plane if Donnie hadn’t burnt down Jim Cunningham’s house, revealing him as a child pornographer and leads the woman who would have taken the trip to stay in Middlesex to plead Jim’s innocence. He would have never flooded the school, eliminating the need to reassess his teacher’s coursework that eventually led to her getting fired. It’s less obvious, but he convinced his older sister to throw a party at their house after she was accepted to Harvard, and the next morning before he travels back in time we see cop cars pulling up to their house, which could have meant trouble for his sister.

Was it Donnie’s fate to die that day, crushed by an airplane engine? Was he purposely given visions and interactions to lead him to accept his fate, in order to benefit his loved ones? The ending of Donnie Darko brings up many questions in my mind on the ideas of fate and personal sacrifice. Donnie was largely troubled throughout most of the movie, even though he had good friends, a loving family, and a girlfriend that connected with him. Once he realized that his visions of Frank were preparing him to make this sacrifice, Donnie finally exhibits happiness. It’s chilling to think of how anyone might react to this type of encounter. Would we all be able to selflessly make a similar sacrifice after we are shown how much good it creates, as Donnie was able to? I mean, there was still some evil left in the world; without Donnie, Jim Cunningham wouldn’t have been revealed as a pedophile and the school thugs that ambush them at Grandmother Death’s house, leading to Gretchen’s death, still live unpunished. It’s hard to contemplate if I could make such a sacrifice myself, a “superhero” without recognition, a sacrifice unheralded, a living creature that despite my best efforts, still would die alone. But, as in Donnie’s case, not unloved.

One final note, and in relation to the title of my review, I was pleasantly surprised by a scene in Donnie Darko where Donnie is describing a section of the Graham Greene story about a group of boys who vandalize and destroy an elder man’s house, but do not rob him, even though they find a large amount of money in a mattress. He explains that “…the fact that they burn the money is ironic. They just want to see what happens when they tear the world apart. They want to change things.” This immediately reminded me of the quote from one of my favorite movies, The Dark Knight, where Alfred explains how “some men just want to watch the world burn”, in relation to the terrorisms of the Joker. This connection made me like Donnie Darko that much more, and I would like to think that it is a sort of shout out by Christopher Nolan in his film and that he used this movie as inspiration for his own.

Legend of Korra Quarterly Review

Reviewing the new Avatar series, “The Legend of Korra”, will probably be one of the hardest reviews I have written or will write, simply because of the high place the original series holds in my heart. “The Last Airbender” is in the top three of my favorite television series, and I find it so close to perfect that any extension of that series would be doomed to being held in lower regard in my eyes. Especially since this new series takes place seventy years after the final episodes of the original, eliminating most of the characters I had grown to love and introducing a whole slew of new ones. In addition, the series seems to be based mostly if not entirely in a new area created exclusively for it; a more technologically advanced Republic City, where all benders can supposedly live in harmony. I have to admit that I was more than a little wary coming into my viewing of “The Legend of Korra”, but I still had hope in the excellent writers and creators of Avatar, and hopefully can put aside my bias and come to love this new series.

I have decided to split my reviews of “The Legend of Korra” into four installments, one for a half of each of the two “books”, or seasons planned for it. Just a warning, this review, and the three to follow it, are not just focused on my opinions of this series, but more on how well it continues the excellence of the first one. The first thing that came to my mind when I began watching was how extremely fast the watchers are thrown into the new plotline of Korra, our new Avatar, needing to learn airbending, travelling to Republic City, and facing the new nemeses of the Avatar universe, the Equalists. I understand that there is less than half the number of episodes planned for this series as there was for the original, but I still felt a little rushed during the first few episodes. However, I was calmed slightly by the small instances of charm injected into the episodes just like the original series had, and found myself laughing out loud multiple times during Korra’s initial adventures. I just met this new Avatar and Republic City environment, and they are forcing me to like them too soon, however I couldn’t help but find a small place in my heart for them to temporarily reside thanks to the dialogue and events observed early on.

The fast movement of the plotlines introduces the main antagonist, the mysterious Equalist leader Amon, near the end of the first episode, and Korra and her new friends, the bending brothers Mako and Bolin, encounter him and his minions soon after that. This is where I realized that “The Legend of Korra” might be more serious in tone than the first series. In a show set mainly in a terrible war and around a character that had his entire people and culture exterminated, “The Last Airbender” was still able to hold a tone of merriment throughout most of the episodes. However, we quickly come across the frightening ability of Amon to take bending away permanently (an excellent continuation of the highly debated “energy-bending” used in the final episode of the previous series), and Korra’s helplessness in her initial confrontation with him. Aang didn’t fully face the danger awaiting him until at least the end of the second season, and we see our new Avatar confront it in the fourth episode, and come out defeated. I found this a lot more chilling than many of the instances of danger I observed in the original series.

In addition to the serious nature of the antagonists, I find that we are going to be denied in this series one of the more brilliant aspects of “The Last Airbender”; the development of the enemies in the show. Amon and his minions are very mysterious, and the one henchman who we have seen multiple times doesn’t even have a name. What was so great about Zuko and Azula was that we loved to hate them. They were given extensive air time and were able to develop over time, if in opposite directions. I fear that with the always masked Amon and the lack of introduction of any other main antagonists, “The Legend of Korra” is going to be missing a key element that made the original series so amazing. I hope that they can introduce another enemy later that we can watch develop the same way we watched Zuko battle with his destiny and Azula with her sanity.

One of the elements of this series I do really enjoy is the aspect of discrimination arising between benders and non-benders. The main goal of the Equalist movement is to equalize the difference in power the two types of people face, and where in the previous series we mainly saw benders (minus the fire-benders of course) as good people. However in this series we see all types of benders (minus air-bending, which is still confined to Aang’s descendants) in mob-like organizations bullying the non-benders with their powers. On the other side, we never saw this kind of hatred in non-benders in “The Last Airbender”, where most of those we met were happy to assist Aang in his journey to stop the Fire Nation. But now, especially in an environment so confined as Republic City, we see how these powers can create a rift between the two types of people. This also ties in with Korra’s internal struggle. I like how they refrained from making the hardest element for her to learn the opposite one on the spectrum (fire-bending), but the one most unlike her personality. She has completely ignored the spiritual side of being the Avatar, and air-bending being the most spiritual of the elements adds an extra difficulty element.

That being said, we are a quarter way through “The Legend of Korra” and have not seen Korra delve into the spirit side. There has been no travel to the spirit world, no communication with her past lives, and no inclination at all of the Avatar state. I’m sure the spiritual aspect of Avatar will come into play soon, however in this technological world the lack of spirituality in general is a little unnerving. Korra’s knowledge of the spiritual side of bending seems to be very important in closing the rift between benders and non-benders, yet in the first half of the first season she hasn’t even touched it in her training. I have no doubt the interactions between Aang and Korra will be amazing, and I want to see it implemented as soon as possible.

This leads to one of the main reasons I am having trouble developing an unbiased opinion about this series; the lack of tie in with the previous one. I can understand that the creators don’t want to lean too heavily on the previous series, and make “The Legend of Korra” stand alone as much as possible, but I find myself paying more attention to the brief flashes of my beloved Toph than the rest of the present day episode. They have covered some of the connections, almost immediately with an excellent reference to the Zuko’s mother plotline that fans desperately wanted to see, only to be interrupted comically by one of Tenzin’s, Korra’s airbending teacher, children. We are also quickly introduced to an elder Katara early on as well, however there is no mention of any other of the characters except for Sokka (who is dead) and Toph, through her daughter (and she’s probably dead too *sob*). I want my connections to “The Last Airbender”, and while I do enjoy the small quips such as Flameo noodles, the Agni-Kai Triad, and Cabbage Corp (not my Cabbage Corp!), I feel I can’t completely appreciate this series without more prominent communication between it and the original series. It seems that allowing Korra to interact with her past lives and enter the spirit world would initiate this connection I desire, and I hope they do it soon to sooth my itch.

However, on its own “The Legend of Korra” still has its own original elements that work well. In this new world of Republic City, it’s nature vs. technology, a concept originated in the first series with the more technologically advanced fire nation but delved more in depth as how it levels out the distribution of power between the two types of people. In a world that is more like present day society than the vast natural environments seen in “The Last Airbender”, this series can introduce and develop through some newer concepts. One of the more valuable lessons learned in the original series is how not all fire benders are evil, and that moral is flip-flopped a little in this series, where we now learn not all benders are good (and the complete elimination of the fire-benders are evil” notion, seen most prominently with Mako). Like I mentioned before, the mob-like community uses their powers to discriminate against non-benders, and it’s understandable why some would want to fight back. In addition, we see an aspect of city politics we wouldn’t have seen in the previous series, where the council, while there to protect the citizens of Republic City, still have their own, less than honest plans.

Overall “The Legend of Korra” has set the stage for a solid series, however not enough has happened in the first six episodes covered in this review to completely dispel my concern. We are thrown almost immediately into this new storyline, however afterwards there was still little advancement in the overall bender vs. Equalist plotline, as well as Korra’s battle with air-bending and the spiritual side of being the Avatar. In a series that doesn’t have the luxury of the scope of episodes “The Last Airbender” had to develop both the protagonists and antagonists, it would be nice to see some of the familiar journeys into being the Avatar and protecting the world that Aang experienced, and soon. It’s hard for me to develop an unbiased opinion about this new series, and while I want to love it as much as the previous one, and it still has the same charm and elements that should appease my desire for past series connections. “The Legend of Korra” will never live up to the high standard I hold “The Last Airbender” in my heart, yet frankly, I don’t see anything wrong with that.

Why Skyrim Has Been One of the Most Frustrating Games I’ve Played

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is a massive open world role-playing game released in 2011, receiving critical acclaim across the board and winning the Game of the Year awards from ten different ceremonies. It took over three years to create by a team of 100 designers working for one of the top game studios in employment today. Its plotline and gameplay have roots in fantasy and medieval settings, and allows the player to use a range of weapons and magic and become a part of factions ranging from werewolves to assassins. Everything about Skyrim shows that it would quickly become one of my favorite games, however through two different attempts to play I have become so frustrated with the game that I have given up on ever completing and enjoying this experience.

To begin, I have to say that I have only played one other Elder Scrolls game, Oblivion, and have given up on that one just as easily as I have Skyrim. I have played Fallout and Fallout 3, another gaming series created by Bethesda, and adore both of these games. In addition, I do not own Skyrim; in fact, I am playing it on a Playstation 3 that is also not my own, and the first game I’ve ever played on the PS3. The fact that I do not own the game, am not playing it on a PC, my system of choice, and that I am playing it on a system that I overall do not enjoy may have something to do with my bitterness towards the game. But I swear, I really did try and give it a chance, but Skyrim screwed me over not once, but two times.

The first time I attempted to play Skyrim I entered in blissful ignorance, excited to play a sandbox style game that had be enormously hyped months before its release. And hey, the Fallout games are great, and I had a momentarily lapse of memory as to my past experienced with Elder Scrolls games. So I happily went through the slightly dull introductory sequence with high hopes, only to hit one of my frustrations before I even finished designing my character. First of all, I am playing this game on a 48” projector television and I cannot read any of the menu type unless I am sitting inches from the screen. I understand trying to leave the majority of the screen for the games action, but I cannot read the important information necessary to build and customize my character, let alone all of the menu information necessary for later quest completions and customization. Also, as I have mentioned before, I am less than familiar with the Playstation systems, so the controller button placement took a little time getting used to. Too much time, I’m afraid, to allow for me accidentally calling my character the default name “Prisoner”, with no alert box in sight making sure that was the name I had wanted.

The second half of my first experience with Skyrim led me to the small village of Riverwood, where I was told I would receive the first quest of many on my way to Skyrim legend. As it just so happens, the first encounter in the village was with this sweet little girl, who basically tells me to fuck off even before I initiate conversation. Sidenote: I have played very little of the game, as I will get into later, but have watched two of my housemates get pretty far in it, so I feel safe to ask why does every character in Skyrim either act like a total douche or try to make a pass at you? Well, while I’m *not* usually the violent type, someone needs to teach this little brat some manners, so I swung my brand new mace at her stupid smirking face. That’s when I stumbled upon the lovely fact that children are invincible in Skyrim. And their parents don’t take it too kindly to strangers swinging maces at them. So, a slight overreaction to a snide comment has the entire village lighting torches against me. So once again I had to cut my way through angry villagers (if I had a dollar every time that happened), and the last one standing was my quest giver, Halof. Well, he wasn’t in the mood for quest giving, but after a little spat I had him on his knees. But what do you know; he gets right back up and comes at me again. After three more deaths I realize that this guy isn’t going away, so I run from Riverwood, basically ending any chances of advancing in the main quest before even starting.

Such ends my first, albeit short, experience with Skyrim. I’ll admit it, my strategy in the game wasn’t to be desired, however it’s slightly ridiculous that the main quest of a game can pretty much be eliminated by one swing of the sword (or mace). The beginning sequence in itself took over an hour to complete, only to find myself in sort of a hole without a roadmap as to where I should travel next. So I basically spent the next few hours wandering around the never-ending expanse of the Skyrim world, mercing mud crabs and bandits and what have you, until I go so bored without a single direction to take that I placed the game aside, for a time.

This initial experience left a bad taste in my mouth for a couple months, but currently I sit in between the limbo of college graduation and the beginning of my next job, so time is abundant and seeking to be filled with gratuitous game playing. So I figured what the hey, I’ll give Skyrim another chance. Maybe this time I’ll be more discrete, build up my characters strengths more and then, return to Riverwood for the rematch of the century. This time I make sure I enter my characters name in correctly and begin my quest. Again.

And once again I find myself becoming increasingly frustrated with the size of the text. How can I not read anything on a 48” television without sitting close enough to ensure blindness by the time I reach age 30? But no, I must push forward. Skyrim still deserves a second chance. After the hours I spent watching my housemates play this game, I had a better inkling as to where to go and what to do, yet I still found it difficult to complete even the simplest quests in adequate time. One of my first quests was to become part of the Companions, however for the first two hours I spent my time squinting at the screen, trying to read the building names in each village and city, the choices given when I initiated conversation, and the ridiculously complicated yet similar names of the characters. I mean seriously, Jorrvaskr, Vignar, and Vilkas? Did the designers just take a Scrabble game and fling all the letters at a wall, naming places and characters after where the letters fall? And not only that, when seeking a certain character out, no one happens to know where they are, and their positions change every few hours anyway for me to nail a certain character down. I understand the game is trying to create the feeling of a bustling city, where people are going about their everyday lives, but you got to throw me a bone or something.

After a few hours of frustratingly travelling back and forth through Whiterun, completing these boring tasks for the Companions that constantly say that each member is their own man yet they have to run stupid errands for each other, I finally was given a quest I could sink my teeth into (no pun intend… ah shit, it was intended), I leave Whiterun and sprint in the direction of my next destination, only to find the game had hit a bug, propelling my character forward even when I release the joystick, right into the conveniently placed bonfire directly in front of me. At this point I was slightly peeved, however I didn’t get too far, and hopefully I would start my game again in Whiterun to retry the quest, so I waited. And waited. And waited. I sat there staring at a model of a stupid mud crab for twenty minutes until I threw my hands up in frustrations and shut the PS3 down, never to return to this game that ate up my time with useless quests and anti-user game play. Another Sidenote: As a game designer, I really do like the idea of having the models shown during loading screens. It really allows us to examine what content is really used in a professional game. But I really hate loading screens.

One final note from my overall experience with Skyrim; the environment of the game. The world of Skyrim is really beautiful, and I found myself in awe more often than not during my limited time in the game. It is extremely impressive how they were able to create such a vast, detailed landscape that can be explored almost entirely during game play. That being said, travelling across this world for game plays sake is exhausting. I just want to behead some skeletons and bandits, not have to spend hours travelling from one city to the next, being startled by stupid elk every ten feet of the way, hoping that it’s an enemy I can battle. In addition, the sections of the game the player should be spending most of their time in, the dungeons, like to take a page from the book of popular game color schemes: brown, grey, and darker brown. While at that time I was a pro at squinting at the screen, I still had to do it in every room, trying to pick out important treasures from the similarly colored and shaped rocks and remains.

So there ends my short yet greatly exasperating experience with The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. I’m sure my experience is in the vast minority, and I have nothing against the critical acclaim the game has gotten since its release, however it’s worth noting that I have had nothing less than a irritating experience with the game and have no desire to continue that experience. For a game that was created by a team of 100 designers by a company that holds no less than a shining sport in my heart, I was immensely disappointed with Skyrim. It’s dark and hard to see dungeons, small, unintelligible lettering, extended loading screens in a time where loading screens have all but disappeared, and random and infuriating bugs throughout the game have left me with little regard for the game. Ah well, I guess I stick to Fallout.

Bioshock: The Little Sister Conundrum

A little over a year ago I did what many normal gamers reluctantly do during this time of year; give into the loads of insane game deals on Steam. I was always interested in the Bioshock games since their release; however I never had a powerful enough computer or the money to purchase either of them. Now, with my nifty Alienware laptop and ten dollars I was able to purchase Bioshock 1 & 2 for my gaming pleasure. After that, though, I fell into another stereotype of Steam game purchases; I didn’t touch the games until months after I bought them.

With a little extra free time over the summer, I decided to finally play through the games to see if they were as good as their reviews said. And while this isn’t a game review per say, I can confidently say that I enjoyed both games immensely, if not the first one a little more than the second. However while playing through the games I couldn’t help notice the stark differences in my attitude towards one of the main characters in each game, the Little Sisters.

Their inclusion in the game dictated what was advertised as a sort of “karma” system, which affected the outcome of the game depending on how you interacted with the Little Sisters. Basically you had the choice of harvesting them for more Adam, a sort of upgrade currency in the game, but killing them in the process, or saving the Little Sisters, which led to less Adam but provided other helpful perks. At the time this system of game play was relatively new to the scene, and its effect of the actual game play ended up being minimal in relation, only changing what ending your game followed.

I am not initially a heartfelt kind of guy when it comes to playing video games, alternatively more of a running over hookers in Grand Theft Auto and mercilessly killing NPC’s that give me lip in Elder Scrolls. So, evidently, when I heard that I would receive more of this precious Adam just by killing these little girls that I had no other affectionate connection to, my decision ended up being a no brainer. And after I finished playing through the first Bioshock, harvesting any Little Sister I could get my hands on, I was still relatively pleased with the alternative ending that I received from my heinous actions.

This would be a boring end to the article if I had not continued on to Bioshock 2 after completing the first. The storyline of the second game follows a Big Daddy, the hulking body guards of the Little Sisters in Rapture, who had his Little Sister taken away from him and was left for dead by the heartless Sophia Lamb. This brings me to the first surge of humanity handed down by this game, and it will not be the last. The Little Sisters that I stayed relatively disconnected from in the first game had a new face, one of a cute, helpless little girl who depended on me for protection.

Now in the first Bioshock, my ability to kill these seemingly innocent children was my ability to not become attached to them as characters. It was very easy in the situations the storyline put me in; an outsider looking only to get home, surrounded by a strange and hostile environment. These Little Sisters had what I needed to survive and escape, and it’s not like they were completely helpless. I was destined for multiple trips to the Vita-Chamber as I tried to defeat their bulking protectors. And it didn’t help that when I finally beat the Big Daddy and grabbed the Little Sister for her Adam, I was forced to look at this:

Yes, Bioshock did little to sway me from widespread child genocide. But along came Bioshock 2, and a sign that I might actually have a heart. First of all, the design of the Little Sister was changed significantly between the games, which might have been determined by a better graphics engine or the attempt to make them seem more human, and I struggle to find another way to describe them other than “friggin’ cute”. It didn’t help that when I picked one of them up for the first time, with Sinclair in my ear urging me to harvest her for the copious amounts of Adam, she looked at me with her innocent, yellow eyes and trusting smile, completely oblivious to the internal struggle I had to kill or save her.

One of the reasons why I made my decision is just that; the Little Sisters in this game are just so damn trusting. I mean, here I come, this hulking, metal man running through a deteriorating city, gunning down any living thing I come across, while she watches helplessly while the closest thing she has to a father does mortal combat with me, and after he ultimately falls she runs up to the side of his lifeless shell of a body, probably traumatized for life after seeing him slain in front of her, and I lug towards her, breathless and bleeding, giving this innocent little girl no reason to think I’m not going to rip her head off without a second thought. But then she looks up at me like this:

I mean COME ON. And not only that, but before I have a chance to decide whether I want to harvest or save this adorable, helpless child to sate my bloodthirsty urge for Adam, I can adopt her as my own, carrying her on my shoulders as I escort her through dying Rapture to help gather even more of this Adam for me. I become to her the Big Daddy that seconds before she just watched me destroy, protecting her from the Splicers and giving her just as much agony upon my death as the one before me. And even after that, once I have used her up for my less than admirable purposes, I can still chose to harvest her, as if the Adam she just gathered for me and the little I’ll receive for saving her isn’t enough.

No, I may be a cynic at times, but there are some places when I can draw the line. So, the same person who didn’t think twice about killing innocent children just one game ago can’t stomach the idea now, because damn you Bioshock 2, the Little Sisters are just too cute, and I have some sort of personal view against betraying such a strong sense of trust. And hey, over the course of the game, the lesser Adam I received for saving them was replaced by other perks, such as gifts of more Adam and helpful Plasmids from the grateful little girls. So I was content with my choice.

And then I beat Bioshock 2. And I’m still content; I saved my own Little Sister as well as the others from the underwater grave of Rapture and I felt warmth in my heart. But I had to check, like I did at the end of the game before this one, what ending did I miss by declining to harvest the little sisters? I enjoyed the first games ending even after my terrible deeds, was this ending the same? And lo and behold, *spoiler alert* activated, if I had harvested all of the Little Sisters, my own, older Little Sister would have adopted my heartless world view and used it to conquer the surface world as her own. AWESOME. Thank you, developers of Bioshock, for making me feel again, even if you have stripped away one of my dreams in the process. Damn you and your cute Little Sisters, damn you.