Sneaky Pete: Season 1

I had my doubts. A crime caper originally intended for CBS, created by Bryan Cranston and the guy who made House, but then CBS bailed and so did the House guy, and then Graham Yost took over and now the whole thing's on Amazon Prime, and oh by the way it stars Giovanni Ribisi? Yeah, that sounded like a recipe for a tonally confused procedural I had no interest in seeing. But reviews were just good enough, and I liked Justified and Bryan Cranston just enough, and although I've got too much TV on my plate already, Marissa has gone away for a couple weeks - just long enough - for me to give this a shot. (And hey, I could always bail, right?)

But man - I liked this! I may have even really liked this. And why should I be surprised? It's got exactly the same clever wit that made Justified so endearing, and Bryan Cranston as the antagonist steals absolutely every scene he's in - which is like ten or fifteen over the course of the whole season. Ribisi is actually perfect in this role of a slippery con artist who's in way over his head, and the whole thing is set back and forth between New York, its surrounding suburbs, and a rural farm upstate. This is an obvious pick for anyone who liked Justified and it's even got some Shane Black vibes and in several episodes it's got the feel of a "great big heist" movie.

The first season's ten episodes long and stands alone pretty well, but a second one has been confirmed. Give this a shot! I thought it was very frenetic and very fun. The year might only be like one tenth over, but so far Sneaky Pete is my best new show of 2017.

The Forest

So Yoga Hosers became, once I saw it, the worst 2016 release I'd seen so far (out of 36). That lasted for about a day or two, as now The Forest instantly slides in at #37 of 37. I had heard only bad things about this one, but sometimes a bad movie is still an interesting viewing experience, you know? (When they're 90 minutes long, I mean - not when they're Suicide Squad, which I still have no interest in seeing.) Average movies are obviously better than bad movies, but notoriety is almost more of a blessing than mediocrity. Here - name some of the worst movies you've ever seen. Very easy, right? Now name some movies you'd give, like, a C-minus. You're blanking, right? Because they're totally forgettable.

Another reason to watch a panned movie is purely to play the contrarian. Yeah, this might suck, but what if I can derive some enjoyment from it that eluded everyone else? What if I somehow "get" what it's going for where several others failed? What if, since all art is subjective, I end up totally loving this one? What if it just speaks to me? (Note - this only ever happens with comedies.) One man's trash, and so on, and so forth.

But I should have known better. Yoga Hosers was a sprawling mess from start to finish, but no one making it ever really thought it wouldn't be. It's tempting to ask, of any disaster, "How did this get made?" But in the case of Yoga Hosers that's a really easy question to answer. It got made because Kevin Smith has the money, the connections, and the industry experience to make just about anything he really wants to make, and he also stopped trying to make good movies, content instead to make feature-length in-jokes for his friends and his fans. Hell, he even gave his daughter a lead role in a legitimate feature film - why wouldn't Yoga Hosers have gotten made?

This lengthy set-up is here for me to say, as you may expect, that The Forest is a different animal altogether. It's a horror movie, presumably meant to be scary and at least half-decent and not, you know, a Yoga Hosers-style sprawling mess; The Forest, one would think, was not made as a joke, and did not come from marijuana and apathy. It seems like this is the type of movie that a lot of people invested a lot of time and money and effort in, and a movie that wasn't already giving a preemptive middle finger to an onslaught of one-star reviews. No, The Forest just kind of sucks. And not in a fun way like, say, The Happening. The Happening is a movie we can all laugh at, both when it came out and still to this day. It is bad, but hilariously so. The Forest, on the other hand, is the annoying kind of bad, which is to say that it ends up being bad even though it starts out seeming like something that might be, dare I say, half-decent. It's the kind of bad movie where, despite a few dumb jump scares and an absence of character motivation, I was still on board with it right up through the two thirds mark. "Okay, this isn't good or anything," I was thinking, "but it's not nearly as bad as all those reviews would have had me believe."

And then everything just went to shit. The little intrigue built up throughout the movie, which had a barebones but compelling enough hook and a legitimately unsettling atmosphere, just completely disappeared as the third act broke. "Oh. This? This is what we were building toward? Oh." The ending is somehow both predictable (tropes on tropes on tropes) and nonsensical (completely unrelated to the story being told up to that point). Don't bother! This isn't fun bad. I was wrong to assume it might be. It's just bad.

The Witness

Alright, it's been at least two months since I played this game. Despite promising myself I was going to 100% this guy, I'm throwing in the towel and walking away. For me... it's done. 

The Witness is a fantastic puzzle game that in many ways reminded me of my experiences with Myst as a kid. You start out knowing nothing, and bit by bit you learn the rules of the game and how to navigate the world you've been randomly thrown into. Normally, I'm not a huge fan of puzzle games. Not that I dislike them or anything, but I typically don't have the mental endurance to make it through them without substantial support from a walkthrough guide. However, I was strongly encouraged by Sween to give this game my all and not wimp out by using guides. Begrudgingly, I agreed only to be astonished by how many puzzles I was able to accomplish based on my own wit. It was also interesting to compare with others what puzzles came second nature to them and what puzzles were exceedingly difficult. When examining any play-through comparisons, it seems as though we all have very different reactions to different puzzle sets. 

I did a quick breakdown of my own experience and did a ranking of the most challenging levels (1 being the hardest):

1. Town

2. Bunker

3. The Caves

4. Treehouse

5. Swamp

6. Keep

7. Quarry

8. Monastery 

9. Desert Ruins

10. Symmetry Island

11. Glass Factory

12. Shady Trees

13. Orchard

14. Jungle

15. Entry Area (not including figuring out the "secret area")

Did I get them all? Anywho, it probably comes as no surprise that the Town was the hardest. It combines just about every rule that's in the game other than the Caves section. I listed Bunker above the Caves just because I couldn't figure out the color palate bullshit --  especially during the elevator sequence  This was one of the few times I caved and used a walkthrough to help me out... and I'm still not even sure how I was suppose to solve the elevator puzzle!

All that aside, the game was a terrific challenge and really gave me a huge sense of satisfaction when I finally completed a puzzle. 

Enough praising the game. Now for my gripes. My biggest issue with the game was the story buried underneath -- or lack there of. This island is shrouded in mystery. A mystery I desperately wanted a direct answer to. After I reached the first ending, I took it upon myself to 100% the game in hopes of uncovering each and every ending to possibly find an answer to what this island was? What's with all the audio tapes? What are the meaning of the stone statues? Why was I here and why can't I escape? And so on... However, these environmental puzzles were -- oh, how should I say -- they were complete bullshit. There's nothing clever about hiding a puzzle in an hour video you have to watch. And if you miss it you have to watch it all over again? That's just sadistic. Needless to say, I'm not a masochist. I abandoned 100%-ing this game as soon as I realized it was one big joke that Jonathan Blow was using to laugh at us. 

That said... I still wanted to know if there was an answer to my question. A reason for why this all was. In case anyone is curious, here is the main "secret ending" to the game.

Ok... So it seems as if this was all a chemically induced dream state or some shit. I'm guessing we wake up to find we're the developer (possibly Jonathan Blow?) and we see all the random development tools around the house. To boot, we also see a PICC line in his arm. Is the guy sick? Was this necessary for him to have such a weird dream? 

Honestly this brings up more questions than answers them. I'm sure if I thoroughly studied the video I could make a lot of Lynch-ian connections to what was happening in the game, but I have no motivation for that. 

I know this game has been brought up by many to be one of the greatest games of 2016, but I just don't see it. Don't get me wrong, it's a terrific game. The puzzles are beautifully constructed. And with a little concentration and observation, you have all the tools to be able to solve even the toughest challenge. However, are the challenges worth it to solve if there's no emotional/narrative payoff. For me, no. I want a reward that gives me a clear resolution on what is happening here, but what I got felt like someone was answering my question with another question. And that shit just don't fly. 

Make no mistake, Blow is a talented gamemnaker. I will gladly keep returning to his upcoming projects (well, I read that his next game is going to be in development for roughly 20 years, so... we'll see about that), but I hope in the future his games move beyond just a satisfying environment and gameplay. I hope his next game brings forth a truly intriguing and emotionally exciting story that can help pay off whatever challenges comes next.

PS -- How many endings did this game actually have? I counted two: the one with the elevator where the island resets itself, and the one with the secret portal that brings you back to reality. Was there anything I was missing? What happens when you 100% the game and solve every environmental puzzle? Throwing that out there because my curiosity is far from being satisfied; however, I don't want to spend one more second attempting to unpack this enigma of a game.  

Yoga Hosers

Here is a bittersweet tragicomedy in five acts.

1994 - Clerks, famously made on just $27,000, premieres to universal acclaim. Critics earnestly compare Kevin Smith to Linklater and Tarantino. He is 24 years old.

2004 - With a mixed track record of five dick-and-fart-joke movies under his belt, Smith attempts a PG-13 romantic comedy. Jersey Girl gets torn to shreds and Smith enters a deep depression.

2008 - Returning to his comfort zone of dick-and-fart-joke movies, Smith releases Zack and Miri Make a Porno during "Peak Seth Rogen" and expects a huge hit. Instead it bombs. Smith once again enters a deep depression, and begins smoking marijuana in order to cope with his stress and anxiety.

2014 - Smith, now 44 years old, high all of the time, has spent years feuding with everyone from Bruce Willis to Southwest Airlines. He releases Tusk, a real mess of a movie, but an interesting one, and a welcome change of pace after a decade spent pursuing mainstream success. He finally seems to be at peace with his career, more focused on "having fun making weird-ass movies" than "giving a shit."

2016 - Yoga Hosers happens. It is, critics and audiences agree, the worst movie of Kevin Smith's long career. And he does not enter a deep depression.

The English Patient

Happy 20th anniversary to the 1996 Oscars! Here's me, talking about that year's Best Picture:

Amazing to think this is twenty years old - that's "only," not "already." Felt like a deliberate throwback or love letter to a time when "prestige film" meant wartime romances set in Northern Africa. How does a movie with plane crashes and torture scenes and landmines and burn victims and attractive people gettin' it feel so long and so slow? But the actors are good, Ralph Fiennes is exceptional, and there's just enough meat on this bone to forgive all the fat.

Resident Evil 7: Biohazard

First thing's first. The name of the this game is Resident Evil 7: Biohazard. However, the original title to the series was never Resident Evil, that only happened when the series was brought over to America. In fact the original Japanese title was... Biohazard. (I think when the game was first adapted for American audiences there was already a game called "Biohazard," hence the need for the title change.) So my question is this: Is the Japanese game called Biohazard 7: Biohazard?! Eh, just a confusing thought I had. Onto the post!

I've played a handful of scary games in my time. Silent Hill II, Amenesia: The Dark Descent, Eternal Darkness... these are all games that gave me the heebie-jeebies. (One of those games listed I still haven't beaten because it was all too panic inducing. This game, however... the seventh installment of the Resident Evil  franchise was a complete fucking terror. 

As I go through this game, I'm going to go through the elements I disliked the most and work up to what I love the best. 

Ok, so par to the Resident Evil franchise, easily the worst part of the game is the dialogue -- and to a larger extent the voice acting. Most of the lines spoken continue to sound wooden and stiff as if I were playing one of the first games from the series. On top of the that, some of the southern accents in this game (it takes place in a Louisiana bayou after all) are terrible. Listen to Zoe Baker's accent. I swear she keeps drifting into some weird-sounding British dialect. The content of those lines are also either heavy on exposition or another tired excuse on why no one can talk about said exposition -- it's quite literally one or the other. I mean, this franchise known for its convoluted plots (maybe it's not as bad as say, Metal Gear, but it's not great) and is typically forced into explaining some weird scientific-horror mumbo-jumbo in a way that people can comprehend so they don't lose touch with any emotional ties audiences have with the characters. The answer to pulling this off usually comes down having the characters explain it to one another in a very bland, inorganic  fashion --  it's ain't pretty, but it gets the job done. I will say, to keep you in the dark on what's happening, as your main character (a guy named Ethan) keeps trying to figure out what's going on, he gets the old "There's no time, I can't tell you!" right before you spend 10 minutes walking along with the person in silence who clearly can't be bothered to give some fundamental facts on what the fuck is actually going on. Ugh... the dialogue is a point of a frustration for me.

TL;DR: The dialogue is not the best. Nothing new to a Resident Evil  game, but this installment doesn't do much to raise that bar. 

What about the story?

The story... it's not half bad. Without giving too much away, the narrative structure was decent. There was an exciting build, some interesting reveals, and somewhat complex characters with fun arcs. Like I mentioned, I really don't want to give anything away as the game has only been around for a week with few having the opportunity to grab it. More to the point, this is a game I expect everyone to play, because...

The ambiance. The best part of the this game -- the element that invokes the most fear and allows you to completely immerse yourself in the game's world -- is the ambience. Prior to this game, I would have given Silent Hill 2 my nod for best horror ambiance. But, now... fuck no. Resident Evil 7 completely transports you to place of pure terror, vulnerability, apprehension, and goddamn excitement. 

Example, I let Zoë try her hands at the opening of this game. (Roughly the 30min of gameplay.) She got about 5 minutes in before she threw down the controller. Then I continued to play for her, having her watch form the back of the room. It wasn't long before I turned around and saw her doubled-over with tears streaming down her face just because the game was too intense. And I can't fault her. It's terrifying.  

Part of the success in the ambiance is due to the environment. This isn't some giant overwhelming map with hordes and hordes of villains in it. No, it's actually quite a contained map -- intimate even -- that forces you to revisit old areas again and again with the potential of unlocking secrets that were at one point, unaccessible. Like most Resident Evil games, the ammo is sparse and your inventory is extremely limited. That said, there's a lot of back and forth between save points forcing the player to serious consider what guns or items are necessary, and what you can do without. This means you're never as prepared as you would want to be adding into that layer of vulnerability that keeps the ambiance as terrifying as it does.

Without a doubt, there's a great deal more I can say about this game. What does it mean to the franchise? How does this fit in with the classic tropes of Resident Evil, meaning Umbrella Corporation and the T-virus? Where does this game lie in the Resident Evil timeline? All questions I would love to mull over with your folks, but first thing's first...

Play this fucking masterpiece. (Preferably with a change of underpants nearby.) 

The Cave

It's not that I haven't been playing video games in 2017 - I swear! It's just that I've started at least four of them so far. Finally, tonight, I finished one.

The Cave is a puzzle platformer with a heavy emphasis on multiple playthroughs. It was free on Games with Gold last month and depending on your puzzle proficiency (these were hard, dammit) it'll take anywhere from two and a half to five hours to beat. Once, that is. Thing is, there are seven playable characters in The Cave, and you play through the game with three of them each time. That means you need three playthroughs - three! - in order to see the whole story and play all of the levels. And honestly, I don't think this game merits multiple playthroughs. It's fun enough, don't get me wrong. The puzzles are great, but a little time-consuming, and the character diversity definitely works. But there wasn't enough of a "payoff," if that makes sense, to any of the characters' stories for me to feel like playing through this game a second time to see three more stories end (let alone a third time for one additional character).

Like so many other freebies from Xbox, I'd say this is worth playing if you've already got it, but there's no need to go out of your way to buy it if you missed the giveaway last month.

And with that, let's hope the dam has broken and the games start flowing in 2017!

The Ricky Gervais Show: Season 2

So, let's talk The Ricky Gervais Show. Some of you may remember me going through all three seasons of An Idiot Abroad last year, a show in which "round-headed buffoon" Karl Pilkington travels the world in order to complain about it. Karl first rose to prominence on The Ricky Gervais Show, a podcast in which Ricky, Karl, and Stephen Merchant had "a series of pointless conversations." (Typing that, I realize how redundant it is.)

Anyway, what always set The Ricky Gervais Show apart from the tens of thousands of other podcasts out there for me was that it was one of the first ones. I believe they started to record it way back in something like 2002, before "podcast" was even a term. They called their recordings "audiobooks," in fact. And then in 2010 or so, HBO decided to air the podcasts, animating all of the bullshit that the trio would discuss. Or rather, HBO spliced up a bunch of their podcasts into segments and then edited those segments together into animated episodes of roughly equal length.

The animated series lasted for three seasons and as someone who'd already heard several of the podcasts, I wasn't a big fan back in college. The first season in particular felt like a way to cheapen the jokes and stories with crude animation and goofy sound effects; I quit watching it after several episodes, and truth be told I have no idea if I ended up missing any material.

But! Seven years later, I gave Season 2 a try - why not? - and sure enough, I liked it plenty. I've long forgotten all of the material from the original podcasts anyway by now, or at least the Season 2 stuff, if I'd ever even heard it in the first place.

So yeah - good stuff! A bit dated already, and my favorite "oh wow this really is an old show" moment may have been when Karl predicted or at least described the concept of augmented reality only for Ricky and Stephen to tear the idea to shreds making fun of it as completely pointless with zero appeal.

Unfortunately, HBO no longer carries the show, even on HBO Go (or HBO Now - what's the difference anyway? serious question) due to, I'm sure, licensing issues. But the good news is that the thing is just all over the Internet. Like, even YouTube seems to have multiple "copies" of every episode. It's just not a show worth protecting from piracy anymore. Check it out if you want - I'm sure this is a much more "limited appeal" program.

To Kill a Mockingbird

Are old movies overrated? Probably. The thing about old movies is that the only ones we still talk about today with any regularity or admiration are, well, the best ones - the real cream of the crop, you know? This right here is, no doubt, one of the best movies of 1962. But what's the tenth best movie of 1962? What's the twentieth? Are they total dogshit? They might be total dogshit. The tenth best movie of 2016 on the other hand is, hey, really damn good. And the twentieth-best is pretty good too.

My point, if it's not clear, is that the only old movies we remember are the ones that were great in the first place. This is one of them. But it still might only be, like, the tenth or twentieth best movie of 2016 if it had (somehow) only just come out in 2016. It would also be an entirely different movie of course, so hey, maybe this whole idea of comparing movies across half centuries is kind of silly in the first place.

Under the Sun

Hey, a North Korea documentary! Going into this one, I expected - with hindsight embarrassment, because obviously making such a thing is absolutely impossible - a fly-on-the-wall documentary about day-to-day life in the most secluded and isolated country on earth. What this is instead might be even more fascinating, though. See, in order to film any footage in North Korea at all, the Russian director had to agree to let the DPRK write the script and supervise all of the shooting. That's right - North Korea only signed off on the documentary because they thought it was a propaganda film they had total control over. But they let their collective guard down and let all kinds of footage escape.

There's nothing profound here - North Korea is North Korea, you know what North Korea is, it's North Korea! - but it's still pretty interesting to get a glimpse at how Pyongyang tries (and in some weird ways succeeds) to present itself as an idyllic paradise of happiness and eternal glory instead of the cold, dingy, concrete shit hole it very clearly is. There's also plenty to be said about the people in this movie - both the "stars" who knew they would be in it, and seem on edge and nervous all the time, and also the director-handler-escort crew carefully staging multiple scenes and encouraging the documentary subjects to be happier, more enthusiastic, and louder.

Here's the trailer. I watched the trailer after the movie and only then did it hit me that, holy shit, North Korea thinks of itself as a Wes Anderson movie, twee and happy and storybook-esque and unconcerned with the real world.

It's on Netflix, if you're interested.