Thursday, December 31, 2020

My Pandemic Gaming


2020 has been a rough year. Between getting furloughed in March and being scared to enter public places, I’ve been stuck at home with little to do until recently. Fortunately, I’ve had plenty of time to relax and read, write, TV binge and game. And I’ve taken advantage of the latter during the pandemic, completing 7 video games. So what better than talking about them?

I should note two points: one, one of these is a cheat, but I’m including it anyway. And two, there’ll be light spoilers for these games. Anyway, let’s get started! 


My pandemic began with Super Mario Maker 2 in March. This game isn’t exactly new, I got it months earlier, but I’m including it because the pandemic’s when I really got into it. And get into it I did, with sessions taking hours and viewings of my levels on Twitch sending me into aggressively late nights. I’m talking “up until 4:00 in the morning” levels here.

Super Mario Maker 2 has a really simple objective: what if you got to design Mario levels? Using 5 Mario templates-Super Mario Bros., Super Mario Bros. 3, Super Mario World, New Super Mario Bros. Wii U and Super Mario 3D World-you can let your imagination run wild. Once your creation is finished and tested, you can upload it for strangers to play and give feedback. It sounds weird, but it’s incredible how much longevity the game has. Especially for a sequel to a Wii U game.

This is the perfect pandemic time-waster, and I’ve gone back to it frequently in the months since. A level could take up to several hours to design, beta test and correct in order to be ready, giving you lots of familiarity with its mechanics. My favourite is the Super Mario Bros. 3 template, if largely because I’m biased, as it has the best optics and takes the most-advantage of the concept. However, I’ve designed with all the modes, getting a feel for each.

But the real strength is in the online community. Ignoring how crappy Nintendo Online is, because Nintendo doesn’t get the internet, playing levels from strangers is a blast. Doubly-so watching them play my 25 levels and give feedback. And I’ve taken it to heart, enough that I was willing to up my game with each course I made. (Speaking of, I’ve yet to work with the most-recent update. I should get on that…)

If you need a break and want to play an actual game, Super Mario Maker 2 also has a Story Mode involving Princess Peach’s castle. It begins with it being completely demolished, forcing you to collect coins for building costs from NPCs. This means playing pre-set levels, some with conditions, and reaping rewards. It’s a great way to become familiarized with the mechanics, even if it’s not the meat and potatoes of the game proper. It also allows for unlockable items, which is a plus. 


It wouldn’t take long before I’d move on to something more conventional. To that end, Super Paper Mario was the path to go. The third entry in the Paper Mario sub-genre, it was also the first to deviate from tradition and go for a linear platforming approach. Not that I’m faulting it, as I quite like this game. In some ways I even love it!

The story’s standard Paper Mario fare initially, Mario uncovers 8 Pure Hearts and saves all dimensions from being torn apart, but there’s more at stake than meets the eye. Specifically, there’s a subplot about the primary companion, Tippi, and the villain, Count Bleck, that feels ripped from Romeo & Juliet. It ends on a bittersweet note, though I wouldn’t be surprised if Intelligent Systems had been cribbing notes from the Shakespeare tragedy. I still cried at the end, though.

It’s a shame I got so invested in the story, because it often dragged me away from the gameplay. Which was…fine. I mean, it’s fun, and I’m glad I played it, but given how special those first two Paper Mario games were, it feels like a step down. It’s basically, when it boils down to it, another Mario platformer. Except that, this time, it has RPG elements. Yay Nintendo!

That was mean. Super Paper Mario is still lots of fun. Whether it’s the side-scrolling levels, or the puzzles that involve flipping perspectives or using the Wiimote in unique ways, there’s lots to enjoy. The game’s even funny, retaining much of the humour that made the Paper Mario games special. I especially like how many of the puzzles can be solved by switching from 2D to 3D. Though did the flipping mechanic need a health bar that drains so quickly?

I like Super Paper Mario. Is it a great game? Not really. But it does what it sets out to, letting you traverse a platforming RPG world. Plus, you can play as Peach, Bowser and Luigi. That alone sells me on it. 


Moving on from there, I made good on an old promise and started up Zack & Wiki: Quest for Barbaros’ Treasure. I’d beaten this game before many years ago, but I’d been hesitant to do it again because of its difficulty. And when I say that, I mean “chained to a walkthrough for most of it” levels of difficulty. Sufficed to say, I still got stuck constantly. So it was like playing another Zelda game, except it’s a point-and-click game.

The game follows Zack, an adventurous pirate, and Wiki, a magical monkey, as they travel with their group of rabbits. During an encounter with Captain Rose, who blasts them from the sky, the two of discover the head of Captain Barbaros. He promises them riches in exchange for finding his body parts, which have been scattered throughout four worlds. With fame on their minds, Zack and Wiki take on this naïve quest.

The game uses a repetitive formula: Zack and Wiki traverse a level, solve puzzles and collect the pieces of Captain Barbaros. The game, however, is unbelievably hard, so much so that, like I said, I was chained to a walkthrough for much of it. Even then, I died a lot. Sometimes it was funny, but others it could be frustrating to see myself make the same mistake over and over. Especially with that accordion music playing each time I died.

Fortunately, the puzzles never feel unfair. Even when they’re outlandish in concept-the animals turn into sodas that you bathe in in one level-they follow a pre-set logic that make them palatable. That’s already a leg up considering how I’ve yet to complete any other puzzle game, of which this qualifies. Yay me!

As a final note, the game looks breathtaking. It might be a 13 year-old game, but its cell-shaded aesthetic makes it look like it could’ve come out today. It feels cartoony too, with a Saturday morning vibe that compliments how silly it can be. That doesn’t mean it can’t be dark, it can be, but that contrast helps make moments of tension or seriousness palatable. Not that it matters, because Zack & Wiki: Quest for Barbaros’ Treasure is really fun! It’s the only point-and-click puzzle game I’ve beaten, and it’s a shame that it never received the sequel its ending teased. (I blame the bad marketing.) 


As the Summer months creeped up, I decided to go for a Virtual Console game on my Wii. Initially, I wasn’t sure which to choose. But I wanted something short, something I could beat in an afternoon. Then I remembered that I hadn’t played Pokémon Snap in a while, and my nostalgia funny-bone began tingling. After all, with a sequel coming next year, what better time to replay it?

Pokémon Snap centres around Todd Snap, a photographer who’s commissioned by Professor Oak-yes, that Professor Oak-to photograph Pokémon in their natural habitat on a tropical island. Armed with a camera, a trolley and, later, a series of items to make the experience smoother, you’re tasked with taking pictures of all 63 Pokémon, as well as the 6 Pokémon Signs scattered in the first 6 courses. Though why it’s only 63 Pokémon, I’m unsure. Maybe if they cut down on the number of Pikachus…

Despite being breezy compared to other rail shooters, Pokémon Snap has the one element most games in the genre lack: leisure. This isn’t a game involving zombies, nor is it a survival experience. The levels of violence are actually pretty toned-down. All you do is take pictures of Pokémon. That’s it.

Surprisingly, that’s all it really needs! Considering that HAL Laboratory, developers of Super Smash Bros., made such a fun concept around photography, I’m amazed more games haven’t tried it. It’s really relaxing, too! So why not capitalize on that? Are developers that scared to make a game centred around photographs?

Either way, this game’s a breeze in the best way. The only downside? Its length. That, and it took over 2 decades to get a sequel. It’d better be worth it, or I’m suing! (Not really, but you can see my frustration.) 


As you’re no doubt aware, I participated in a novel writing course this Spring and Summer. To celebrate finishing it, I played a game I personally was excited for: Paper Mario: The Origami King. I knew it wouldn’t be on-par with the classic entries, but I was anxious to play it anyway. And was it good? Yes.

Paper Mario: The Origami King starts with Mario and Luigi being invited to The Mushroom Kingdom for an origami festival, only to discover a ghost town. The kingdom has been hijacked by King Ollie, who’s kidnapped Princess Peach, turned everyone into origami creations and has trapped the castle in streamers. It’s now up to Mario, together with Ollie’s sister Olivia, to fix everything. Along the way, they interact with various regions and inhabitants, as well as liberate Toads from origami prisons. So yeah, it’s the most-Japanese Paper Mario game ever.

That’s not necessarily “bad”. If you can get past the bizarre concept, it’s actually quite fun. It’s especially satisfying to fill in holes with loose confetti or liberate Toads from origami prisons with your hammer. It’s especially satisfying if you’re persnickety, though that can also be a curse, maybe? I don’t know, it sometimes was a chore trying to 100% clear the game. (And I never did.)

That aside, the game has a really charming aesthetic that makes it worth traversing, even if only for a little while. I like taking side-routes and seeing what I could find, making this the first non-Pokémon RPG to do that for me. It didn’t matter if it was hammering trees or breaking blocks, the game’s overworld wasn’t boring. Neither were the NPCs, who felt distinct and fascinating in their own rights. And let’s not forget that one Bob-omb’s sacrifice, shall we? I’m still traumatized over that!

If I have any complaints, it’d be the combat and grid puzzles. The former wasn’t bad, but it got repetitive and often dragged on. And the latter was infuriating, since I hate those kinds of puzzles. Neither aspect ruined the game, the former kept battles exciting, but it’s no Paper Mario or Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. (It’s not even on-par with Super Paper Mario, but I won’t fault it.) 


However, if you desire a traditional, Paper Mario-like game, look no further than Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling, which debuted on the Switch in the Summer of this year. I didn’t purchase to it until mid-Fall, as I was getting one of my Joycons fixed, but it’s still an absolute joy. It’s not flawless, and I’ll cover that eventually, but it fills the void left by what it’s emulating. And yes, it’s equally cute.

You play as Kabbu, a Hercules beetle, and Vi, a honey bee, as they fulfill Queen Elizant’s dreams of finding the Everlasting Sapling. You also find a moth named Leif, who joins your party after you save him. From here, you traverse the insect kingdoms in your quest to find different artifacts, as well as fight the various baddies along the way. It’s a pretty straightforward “go on a quest, travel to a new village, roam the land, fight the boss, rinse and repeat” formula, but, like the Paper Mario games, it works. It’s more repetitive, but it works.

For those unfamiliar, Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling’s a storybook-style, turn-based RPG with items and puzzle platforming. The combat’s also incredibly straightforward, almost a beginner’s RPG. Even the enemy battles are foreshadowed by making them visible in the overworld, though you can avoid them if you choose. It’s an example of one franchise stealing from another one, to the point of plagiarism. However, if it worked for the first two Paper Mario entries, then it works here too.

I have some complaints, though. Ignoring how some of the features from the Paper Mario games that I don’t like, like figuring out your enemy’s HP, make a return, I don’t appreciate how underpowered your party is. It seems like the developers weren’t happy with the system in the Paper Mario games and wanted to break it, and it shows. Far too frequently, I’d be up against an overpowered enemy, yet my party’s HP wouldn’t come close to matching it. And your EXP growth’s so slow and tedious that it doesn’t make it worth it. Not since Gen 2 of Pokémon have I felt this cheated by such an unbalanced levelling system, to the point where I’d be stuck on the same boss for hours and pray they didn’t pull a fast one on me. I know some gamers weren’t thrilled by how easy the Paper Mario games were, but it doesn’t make Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling feel as newcomer-friendly.

But I digress. The game has flaws that hold it back from being 5-stars, but I still enjoyed it. Sure, some latter sections had me chained to a walkthrough, which is disappointing for a straightforward game, but that’s a minor quibble. Even then, I frequently got lost in the artistry and beauty of this game’s world. It has lots of life and personality, which is nice. That alone makes it a worthwhile recommendation. 


Finally, we arrive at a game that I can’t help but love: LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga. I’ve enjoyed the LEGO Star Wars games since the first one in 2005, and this could well be the best. It might even, if we’re being honest, be the best Star Wars media ever. And yes, that includes the movies, some of which have been excellent. I’ll let that speak for itself.

The game’s pretty much a LEGO-ified retelling of the first 6 movies, which are all connected via an overworld hub meant to mimic The Mos Eisley Catina. There’s not much to summarize in terms of story, other than seeing the 36 main levels retell the films through the eyes of LEGO characters. It’s not only funny to see Eidos’s renditions of these stories, but it sometimes even surpasses the films. I don’t say that lightly either, considering how the films weren’t always known for their stellar acting.

It’s worth noting that the levels incentivize you to come back in Free Play Mode to unlock everything, be it getting your Stud Meter to 100% or finding all 10 Brick Canisters. In fact, it’s actually mandatory. Some sections can only be accessed with specific characters that are either unlocked by beating other levels, or by purchasing them with Studs. It’s a persnickety player’s dream come true, and there are side-missions and objectives that extend the playtime beyond the main game. Sadly, by the time I’m done the main campaign my patience wears thin, so I lack the urge to press onwards. But that’s a personal issue.

For those willing to play with a buddy, the game becomes more enjoyable in Free Play Mode. Whether it’s the Bounty Hunter Missions that are only accessible if you purchase all of the bounty hunters, or the Bonus Missions that add a variety of new objectives, there’s enough content here to last a month. Which is great, because there’s lots of charm to these characters that make experimenting with them worth your time. That, and having them fight one-another in the overworld hub is worth a laugh or two. (I won’t tell you how to enjoy yourself, though.)

Like I said, this is easily my favourite piece of Star Wars media. It’s not without flaws-the fixed camera’s both a blessing and a curse, and it’s definitely on the easy side-but that doesn’t detract from its strengths. LEGO’s always been known for childlike wonder, and LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga doesn’t disappoint. I mean, it’s LEGO tackling one of cinema’s most-enduring franchises of the last 40-odd years. What’s not to love?

That about does it for now. I’d mention my recent rounds of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate with my brother, but I beat that game years ago. Regardless, have a safe and healthy New Year’s, and I’ll see you in 2021!

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

The Manda-LORE-ian? My Thoughts

It’s been over a week, as of writing this, since I finished Season 2 of The Mandalorian. I’m conflicted on how it ended. On one hand, it feels like fan-centric overcorrecting meant to please those who were unhappy with Star Wars: The Last Jedi. On the other hand, it’s in-line with how Star Wars has operated for decades. Ultimately, I’m unsure how to react. And that hasn’t changed since I saw it.

By the way, I’m about to ruin plot points. This is your only warning. 


To give my thoughts, I first have to give a synopsis. Set 5 years after The Empire’s collapse, The Mandalorian follows a nameless Mandalorian bounty hunter who discovers a Force-sensitive child (named Grogu) on an assignment. Concerned, this Mandalorian breaks protocol and rescues him, leading to a target on his back from several other bounty hunters. From here, the Mandalorian develops a bond with Grogu, as he searches the galaxy for a suitable teacher. He also takes up odd-jobs, gets into trouble and meets recurring favourites and new characters. So, basically, it’s a Star Wars Western.

I should mention right now that I liked this show. I’m a dumb shill for anything Star Wars, even when it sucks, and this was no exception. Whether it’s the quirky characters, the memorable dialogue, the grounded action scenes, or watching the protagonist bond with Grogu, it was all really well-done. Special shout-out for expanding the lore while feeling like part of the canon, which can be tricky to do. Then again, Star Wars is really an elaborate D&D campaign.

I’ll also single out the main theme, composed by Ludwig Göransson. It plays at the end of every episode, and it’s interlaced with concept art for the episodes themselves. The theme’s a real banger, and it’s easily the best part. Then again, is that really surprising? Not exactly. 

What bothers me, however, is how calculated this show is. More-specifically, how calculated its fan-service is. It seems to be trying really hard not to anger fans and give them what they want, versus challenging them. It feels like it’s kowtowing to them, with moments and characters that reward long-time Star Wars nerds. It’s really safe in that regard.

The two best examples come into play in Season 2. The first is Boba Fett’s return, who “died” in a Sarlacc Pit in Star Wars Ep. VI: Return of the Jedi. I don’t hate this retcon, Fett’s “death” felt anticlimactic, but, like The Emperor coming back in Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, it’s a stretch. We’re not even given an explanation, and now he’s getting a show? Seriously?

The other is that final reveal of Luke Skywalker, where he takes down Darktroopers by himself on his way to Grogu. It’s the inverse of Darth Vader’s hallway massacre from Star Wars: Rogue One, except even emptier thematically. At least Vader’s slaughter made sense contextually, this feels like Disney kissing the feet of those who hated Luke in Star Wars: The Last Jedi. Except that I liked what they did, so what do I know? 

The show, for all it does well, feels emotionally hollow because of these decisions. And it, in turn, loses some of its narrative complexity. Even when the protagonist says goodbye to Grogu, which is meant to be a heartbreaker because he removes his helmet, it’s less-impactful because of the decision to bring back Luke with the same Uncanny Valley problem that Moff Tarkin and Princess Leia had in 2016. It’s sad when Star Wars Rebels, a show hampered by its age demographic, took more risks than The Mandalorian.

Nevertheless, I’d be lying if I said these issues killed the show. They didn’t. Seeing Bo-Katan again was fun. Seeing Ahsoka Tano again, if only briefly, made me feel like I was watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars again. Even the new characters, like Cara Dune and Moff Gideon, were likeable, and I see them becoming fan-favourites. This might be a fan-service-heavy show, but it’s done well. And I commend it for that.

I also recognize that Star Wars has always been about brand management. Since its inception, it’s remained relevant with constant call-backs and tie-ins to previous entries. Even when it treads new ground, it does so while maintaining call-backs to Star Wars of yesteryear. This, therefore, shouldn’t surprise me. After all, to paraphrase Patrick Willems, this is a fantasy story about space wizards for 12 year-olds. The pandering isn’t shocking by now. 

I guess I’d still like the IP to innovate a little more. The crux of Star Wars: The Last Jedi, learning from failure, relied on that. Sure, not everything worked-I’m looking at you, Snoke-but that it had the gumption to do what it did astounds me. I mean, Holdo going supernova and defeating an entire fleet by herself? Leia flying in space? Luke projecting himself halfway across the galaxy and fooling Kylo Ren? I don’t know about you, but I found all of this cool! And this is in addition to challenging how we perceived Luke as a Jedi.

But maybe I’m in the minority. For as much as I recognize that Star Wars, good or bad, is a brand, one filled with retcons and contradictions, I don’t want it to be The MCU. Because The MCU is The MCU, and it does that well. We don’t need another franchise to be that, let Star Wars be itself. Is that too much to ask?

Overall, I enjoyed The Mandalorian. I enjoyed it as much as I do most Star Wars content. But I didn’t love it, and I have no one but myself to blame. Then again, I didn’t mind Palpatine’s return because I thought his “death” was wasted potential. I’m consistently-inconsistent, so take what I say with a grain of salt.

Sunday, December 13, 2020

The Castle of Cagliostro Discussion | The Director Project

(Note: The following conversation, save for formatting and occasional syntax, remains unedited. It’s also laden with spoilers. Read at your own risk.)

2020 has been a frustrating year, hasn't it? Between a global pandemic, racial tensions and a buffoon politician leading the world's biggest superpower, it seems like humanity is never gonna catch a break. Fortunately, there's always media to keep us occupied. And what better than to jump on-board with a series of essays in December and discuss the first film from one of my favourite living directors: The Castle of Cagliostro


I should mention that this took a lot of work, as well as several disappointments and cancellations, to materialize. It wasn't even my Plan A for the December month of the year, that was reserved for something that never actually materialized. However, since I'm desperately itching to discuss some Hayao Miyazaki-related content (again), I figured I'd do exactly that. And I'm not alone, either! That's right, give it up for one of my more-recent acquaintances, and the man who single-handedly broke Twitter with an anti-vaxer roast: Old Chris Cringle himself!

Say hello, Santa!

Hi, and thank you so much for collaborating with me on this. I'll make a confession: before we talked about working on this together, I'd never heard of The Castle of Cagliostro, and I had absolutely no idea what to expect, but after watching it I'm so happy that you brought it into my life. It isn't often that I sit through a film just grinning, but this was so full of charm and whimsy, I can't imagine watching this and not enjoying it.

Indeed. Though it DID have to grow on me, but we'll discuss that shortly.

Anyway, I should note two things about this movie: firstly, it's a sanitized version of a long-running show, which also happens to be a fan-fiction spin-off of a French novel series. And secondly, it was Hayao Miyazaki's first feature film and second directorial work that he finished to completion...at the tender age of 38. I guess some people are late bloomers, huh?

Yes, I was a little apprehensive for about the first five or so minutes of the movie because it was clear that these were characters from an established series and I have pretty close to zero experience with anime aside from watching Akira a few times in high school and catching a little bit of Attack on Titan at a friend's behest fairly recently. I want to note for the record that I'm not anti-anime by any means; and I've even watched some anime-adjacent stuff with my kids, huge RWBY fan here, but growing up I just didn't have anybody in my immediate circle that was interested, so it isn't something I grew up with. But I don't want anybody thinking I'm somebody who looks down at it as an art form or anything like that.

All that rambling is to say, again, that I was a little nervous about not having any kind of pre-existing knowledge of what was immediately obvious is an established property. But that slipped away very quickly and I found this was like slipping into, say, a comic book from the 70s or early 80s: the writers did an incredible job of making these characters feel immediately familiar. Sure, I didn't know their history, but within the first few minutes I felt like I had a pretty good understanding of these characters and their motivations and what drives them. That isn't always an easy feat to pull off with existing properties, especially in our modern era where writers seem to have a tendency to want to dive into their knowledge of the lore rather than focus on telling a single comprehensive story. 

To your second point, Miyazaki pulling this off at 38 gives me hope that it isn't too late for me!

I hope so, I'm already 30!

But yeah, a lot of Lupin III fans are mixed on this movie. It strays very far away from what the franchise is typically known for, blood, sex and drugs, and goes for a more traditional, James Bond-meets-Robin Hood style of storytelling. Even Lupin, who's shown in a flashback in the third-act as his usual, more classic self, is more Miyazaki protagonist here than the typical, grope-y lecher that fans associate him with.

But that's not necessarily bad, though. I don't think classic Lupin, especially what he was in the 70's, would've aged well in 2020, what with Me Too being a thing now. So sanitizing him to fit more in-line with Miyazaki's anti-fan-service style of characterization makes it stand out more. Think of it as a side-adventure with an older Lupin, I suppose.

And I appreciate him for giving it that more family friendly tilt. In spite of the PG-13 rating, this is a film I'd be perfectly comfortable letting my kids watch-and I probably will; it's right up the alley of my 10 year-old in particular. I'm not of the mindset that everything needs to be tailored to children-Lord knows they have plenty of movies to entertain them-but I also think making something edgy purely for edginess' sake almost never holds up. How many people in the 2020s are saying positive things about, say, Fritz the Cat? If sex or drugs or graphic violence or superfluous vulgarity enhance the story and make sense for the plot, let's do it! But if you're just throwing stuff into there to show how edgy and adult you are, and it doesn't do anything for the story, I think it's less likely that you've created something that people are going to be coming back to generations later. I know peoples' mileage on this idea tends to vary.

One thing about this film that definitely stood out, watching it in 2020, is how comparatively little the women characters get to do. The Princess does get a couple of minutes of fleeting heroism that was probably ahead of its time in 1979, but in a world where we've become accustomed over the last few decades to take charge and kick ass heroines, it really stuck out to me how much of the film the Princess spent as the damsel in distress, and I'm fairly certain that if somebody held it up to The Bechdel Test, it wouldn't pass. But I also don't think the women in this film were negatively portrayed either, and they certainly weren't objectified in any way.


I have my issues with The Bechdel Test, but it's definitely something that Miyazaki would improve upon as his career went on.

I guess we can start with a general synopsis of the movie, in case some of my readers are unfamiliar with it. And fair warning, there WILL be spoilers. Can't be a discussion without them, can it?

Spoiler warning for this now 41 year-old film! You've been warned!

You'd be surprised how many people still haven't seen it, Chris. Anyway, why don't you take it away? 

The gist of the film is that our protagonist Wolf (although I don't think that's his actual name), a thief with a heart of gold, and his sidekick, whose name I did not catch but spends most of the film being extremely laid back and also chomping on cigarette butts-another sign of the films age is that these characters are constantly smoking-decide after getting bamboozled by counterfeit bills on their recent heist to drive into the tiny country of Cagliostro, where they've deduced the bills have come from, ostensibly to steal the counterfeiting equipment. However, they get quickly sidetracked by a chance encounter with a young woman wearing a wedding dress trying to escape from a bunch of soldiers. Wolf manages to briefly rescue her, but in short order she's gone again and what started as a fun if somewhat criminal caper turns into a rescue mission and our heroes realize there's a connection between the Princess, the arrogant count she's being forced into marriage with, and the counterfeit money that brought them there to begin with.

I should note that Chris and I watched two different versions of the English dub. It's complicated, but due to licensing issues, the one available on Netflix is the older, crustier dub with the weird names for the characters. But yes, Wolf's real name is Lupin III, and his buddy (not sidekick) is named Jigen. The Bride is also named Clarisse, and The Count, apparently, is her cousin, I think?

Yeah, there's some weird stuff in that Streamline dub that the Manga Entertainment dub cleaned up. It's too bad that that dub's not more readily-available these days...

Anyway, it's very much a James Bond-meets-Robin Hood type of movie. But it's fun! And I especially like that chase at the beginning with Lupin and Jigen in their...is that a Fiat? I think it's a Fiat. (I'm not very well-versed in cars, as I don't drive.)

I'm pretty sure you're right; I think it was a Fiat. I also think your analogy was pretty spot on there, but I'll just add a little to it: James Bond meets Robin Hood with a generous splash of Uncharted mixed in. Definitely picked up some strong Nathan Drake vibes from Lupin, and it struck me at several points throughout my viewing how much influence this film has probably had on video games in general. The movie's climax takes place both outside and inside of a clock tower, and it invoked in me strong vibes of Assassin's Creed and the Mario games, respectively.

And not to derail this conversation into video games but as an aside: were any of the artists on this involved with the marketing for the original The Legend of Zelda? I'm old enough to remember perusing through the instruction booklet (remember those?) for that game, and the similarities between the art on this movie and in that game-especially with Clarisse-were uncanny.
 

I have no idea. I WILL say that that clock fight inspired the one in The Great Mouse Detective. Bet you didn't know that!

I didn't! But that just makes me appreciate it that much more. It was a great scene. All of the action scenes in this movie were really well done, honestly. It felt a little bit like watching a Fast and Furious movie: if you're willing to suspend disbelief, there's a lot of holding your breath, edge of your seat close calls.

Yeah, the movie inspired a lot of Western animators and directors. The box cover for the movie even has a quote from Steven Spielberg singing its praises.

But yeah, I like the "grounded goofiness" of the movie's world. It's silly enough that Lupin and Jigen can do aerial jumps over poles that aren't physically possible, yet tangible enough that a shot to Lupin's chest can lead to a stream of actual blood. Though I'll say this: the fact that Lupin recovers from amnesia in the third-act so quickly has always bugged me. I've volunteered in an old age home for many years, and amnesia doesn't go away that quickly...

I did enjoy that he was so banged up and badly injured at one point that they'd essentially mummified him, and then he sits up and says "let's go" and that's the end of it. Wolverine-esque healing factor, and I respect it.

But jokes aside, Spielberg is a heck of an endorsement and it makes me wonder why I'd never heard of this movie before you put it on my radar. Am I living in a bit of a bubble or is this something of a niche film flying under the mainstream radar, and if it's the latter, why? It's so good, much more enjoyable than anything Disney was putting out in that time (I'm a moderately big Disney fan but I don't think anybody is in denial about what a dry period it was for them post, I don't know, 101 Dalmatians maybe, all the way up to whenever The Little Mermaid came out).

I know that Americans tend to be way too western-centric in the media they consume and were much more so back then, but even in an age where foreign films tend to become cult classics over here, I've never seen or heard any buzz for it and that's disappointing because it's a genuinely fun and delightful experience.
 

Like I said, it's niche even by Miyazaki's standards.

I'd like to point out something real quick here too: this movie was cobbled together in 6 months, yet has the polish of a movie that was in development for double that. It's not without its limitations, some of the animation fluidity feels a little stiff nowadays, but it's proof that you don't always need a big budget to make something special.

That's incredible. With the exceptions of the few things we mentioned earlier that do make the film feel a little dated, this has the overall look and feel of something that easily could have been released in the last five years. Obviously it isn't computer animated, but like you just said, it's remarkably polished. To be put together in such a narrow window of time is pretty astonishing.

I wouldn't go quite that far, but it definitely looks like a mid-80's film. It also has an excellent use of colour for something made on such a tight budget. It's clear the small team at TMS Entertainment that worked on it really cared.

Yeah, on reflection, you're right, I'm overselling it a little bit. But also if I went in completely blind, there's not a chance I would have guessed 1979 and certainly no way I'd think, "This entire film was made in a mere 2/3 of the time it takes a human being to have a child".

Indeed.

I guess we can focus on the character themselves. I know we've already touched on Lupin and Jigen, as well as Clarisse, but I think a lot of the credit goes to Detective Zenigata and Fujiko as well. I know that fans of the Lupin III franchise take issue with how dumbed-down Fujiko's sex appeal is here, as well as how she's now a blonde instead of a brunette, but I think it works with the kind of story Miyazaki's telling here: she's the Player Two to Lupin's Player One, a sort of friendly rival in the game of thievery. She also, interestingly enough, is the one who ends up winning the game in the end, not Lupin. 

As for Zenigata, he's the stereotypical, dedicated cop trope in film form, always over-dedicated to his job. He's so dedicated that he's willing to defy Interpol and arrest The Count once he finds out that he's the one responsible for the counterfeit ring of goat bills. I also like how he exposes the hypocrisy in political affairs when he's advised not to pursue his job because Cagliostro is a protected country, only to have the UN leaders bicker over their vested interests in these bills. (Also, is it just me, or does the American representative look a lot like Reagan?)

Fujiko was a really fun character and while I understand why she wasn't a bigger part of the film, I kind of wish she had been. It's odd to me that anybody would have a problem with a character who is essentially a professional thief periodically changing their appearance to evade the law, but hardcore fandoms are going to hardcore fandom, I guess. Anyway, I agree with you that the friendly rival dynamic worked well here; I think between The Count and Zenigata, Lupin's hands were already full and a third antagonist would have been overkill.

Zenigata was a stellar character in this, too, like you said absolutely nailing the cop-that-lives-for-his-job trope but also displaying a good sense of self-preservation and a code of honor. Even while I spent the entire film rooting for Lupin, at no point was I necessarily rooting AGAINST Zenigata. Calling their dynamic in this film similar to, say, Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck doesn't really feel entirely wrong, even though it doesn't feel entirely right, either. I got the sense that Zenigata knows somewhere deep down that he's better off being the dog that's chasing the car when it comes to Lupin; and in crunch time he was all in on taking down The Count.


Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, with a bit of Wile E. Coyote and The Roadrunner for good measure. They begrudgingly work together to stop Count Cagliostro, but at day's end they're still enemies.

Speaking of Count Cagliostro, we have to mention him. Miyazaki's only ever done a traditionally evil villain in his films twice, and this guy's one of them. He wants to marry his underaged cousin against her will so he can inherit her bloodline, and he has his stereotypical henchmen in Joto and Gustav. He even peels away his layers slowly as the film wears on, to the point where he's actually quite threatening in the climax.

Though his death...man, talk about a brutal chef's kiss!

His slow evolution throughout the movie from rich, arrogant dickhead to genuine sociopathic menace is another testament to the strength of the story. In animation, we typically get loud, bombastic villains that chew up the scenery. The Count was decidedly not that but I think that's what makes the final act of the film more effective. I'm always a sucker for villains being undone largely by their own hubris and poor decision making. His death was very satisfying. One thing we didn't really talk about was his small army of ninja(?) assassins! I can't really articulate how but they were one of the standouts of the movie to me. Their visual style was distinctive and there was something just really unsettling about them. They should have been our first clue that The Count was bad news. Not just any villain is going to have a pack of those things running around the castle.

I also like how Lupin, essentially, wears The Count out by...being himself.

If I have any personal complaints on the character side, it's probably Goemon. He's cool, slick and badass, but he's not in the film all that much. And he gets very few lines to boot.

I was completely perplexed when Goemon showed up. I was trying to figure out if I'd somehow missed something. This whole caper has been Lupin and Jigen and then suddenly here's their pal who almost looks like he just walked off the set of a Street Fighter game. Was it ever explained where he'd been for the entire first hour of the movie? This was before cell phones so I know he didn't just get an "off on an adventure, meet us at the castle to fight ninjas at 5:30!" text. Was it just a thing where they were trying to shoehorn a little more in for the long-time fans and just had to hope it made sense?

If I recall, Goemon usually tags along as backup in Lupin's adventures. He also tends to keep largely to himself, so as to avoid detection from police.

As you do, when you're a good-hearted thief who lives outside the law. I respect it. We should all be so lucky to have a friend who shows up when we're besieged by a gaggle of ninjas.

Touché!

Speaking of characters, I'm curious what you thought of the voice acting. Having watched two different tracks of the movie, we're probably gonna differ on that.

It was fine. Nothing to laud, nothing to loathe. Like I mentioned earlier, my background in anime is pretty scant, but if I learned one thing from my co-workers over seven years of working at GameStop, it's that people have incredibly strong opinions about watching the English dub and those feelings overwhelmingly seem to tip toward "don't!". But there wasn't anything in this that came off as especially bad. I suppose we've been spoiled by 30 years of animated films that rely heavily on celebrity voice casting but I had no lofty expectations and was not disappointed.

Interesting. I've seen bits and pieces of the Netflix (or Streamline) dub on TMS's YouTube channel, and I remember finding the voice acting a little crusty and flat. Perhaps the most-notable thing about it is that one of the original voices for Mario was in it.

As for the Manga Entertainment dub, which is hard to find now, it's actually quite good. The VAs ad-lib several lines that weren't originally in the script, and there's a bit more profanity in it, but it has really good voices performing really well. I especially like how the voice of Solid Snake was chosen for Lupin himself. 

David Hayter? Interesting! If I re-watch this anytime soon, I'll seek that cut out. The Netflix cut is pretty light on the cussing. They say "Hell" a couple of times and I think that's it. I'm pretty sure the PG-13 rating (which didn't even exist in the 70s) is pretty much exclusively because these guys smoke like they're on an episode of Mad Men. I'm a sucker for good ad-libbing, though.

Believe me, some of the best lines were ad-libbed:

"Dad? I'm not THAT old!"
"Well, I do think of you as a father figure."

"I forgot to mention the potholes."
"I bet you also forgot to mention the piranhas and crocodiles!"
"Hey, shut up!"

Really makes it for me.

I missed out on all the fun. Which isn't to say there weren't a few lines of clever dialogue that got me chuckling out loud, but I don't recall anything endlessly quotable. I'll remember this way more for the story beats than for anything anybody directly said. I did really enjoy the exchange at the end of the film where the Princess has become an enormous simp for Lupin and he's just like "wow thanks love you like a little sister". I think we've all been shot down in a similar way a time or two in our lives.

Well, maybe not Idris Elba. That man is astonishingly handsome. It is, frankly, unfair that we have to compete with that.


Hah!

And while we're on it, what'd you think of the music? It's not Joe Hisaishi scoring it, that starts with Miyazaki's next film, so it's not quite as memorable as Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke, but it's got some really good, light jazz going for it.

It wasn't anything terribly memorable but it was mellow and airy and suited the movie well, I thought. It's not anything I expect to catch myself humming at my desk at work but if I can be brutally honest, Disney is so hell-bent on making each successive movie out-earworm the last that it's really a pleasant change of pace to watch an animated film with no real musical number to speak of, just appropriately moody background stuff you don't even really have to notice unless you want to. 

It also, unlike Disney movies, shuts up on occasion to let the natural sounds creep in. I like that!

A novel concept and one I wish more animated movies today would consider.

Yeah...

I guess I'll ask you this now: was there a specific moment or two that caught your fancy? I happen to really like the Fiat chase, but I'm also fond of the clock fight.

Both worthy scenes, but I think the one that absolutely tickled me the most was when Lupin disguises himself as Zenigata and then tricks The Count's men into chasing down and beating up the real Zenigata while he slips into the castle. It got a good guffaw out of me and plays into that Looney Tunes dynamic with them that we talked about. I also remember one of the characters, probably Lupin, at one point attempting to swim upstream into the flow of a fountain and that got me good.

It helps that the film, true to Miyazaki form, has excellent spatial geography, enough that I can picture in my head where specific scenes take place relative to one-another.

Leading back to my point I made earlier, I actually have a confession to make: I didn't love this movie the first time I watched it. I actually almost shut it off about 40 minutes in out of boredom, only stopping myself because my instincts took over. I ended up not regretting it at the end, but the movie had to grow on me.

Even now, while I love it, it's not my favourite from Miyazaki. I, honestly, would've even pulled out that clip from Spider-Man 2 where J. Jonah Jameson laughs at Peter Parker's request for an advance a few years ago if someone had called it one of the best action movies ever made. It's still excellent, yes, but the man's made better movies since. Then again, he's also made worse movies, so...

Interesting that we had such different initial impressions of the film. Did you have pre-existing familiarity with the franchise? I wonder how much seeing it in a vacuum affected my experience. I think not having any kind of expectations was probably a boon. 

Now it's time for my confession: this is only the second Miyazaki film I've seen. The only other one was My Neighbor Totoro, which I watched at the beginning of the COVID outbreak with my kids and which I enjoyed but wasn't blown away by. It was touching and I was charmed, but I think my kids connected it with it a lot more than I did. I think that looking at them objectively, My Neighbor Totoro is obviously a better film, but I found The Castle of Cagliostro more subjectively entertaining.

To answer your question: no. I'd probably have never even picked it up had it not had Hayao Miyazaki's name on the cover (this was back in early-2011, when I was relatively new to the works of Miyazaki.) I'm also not surprised by your confession, since My Neighbor Totoro really only fully-clicked with me after my dad's heart attack 6 years ago.

I guess I also think the film itself could've used some ironing out. A lot of it's excellent, but you can sort of see the 6-month crunch in certain places. Bless the crew on board for caring, but even by Miyazaki's own standards this is pretty basic. It's really just a pleasant side-romp and stepping stone for a greater career down the road, and you can see it in how much the director wanted to be his own boss free from the restraints of typical anime production.

That's not to say there isn't his usual thematic fingerprint here, though. There are definitely ideas of the fickleness of money and the incompetence of politicians at play, and they're both quite effective. But I guess between the story being paper-thin and Clarisse's relationship with Count Cagliostro qualifying as jailbait...I dunno, I guess I'm being stingy when I call this beneath Miyazaki on a superficial level.

There was a lot about everything surrounding Clarisse that wouldn't pass any kind of smell test in 2020. The character herself was fine, but what you mentioned about her being pretty clearly underage and how that's treated almost as a gag as it was winked at by Lupin in one scene was a bit uncomfortable. But also, it's virtually impossible to enjoy anything produced before, I don't know, 2014 or so if you're going to hold it up to modern purity tests. So I didn't let it become something that took away from my enjoyment of the film for what it was, but it's probably something that should be mentioned for anybody who has never seen this and is on the fence about watching. 

Yeah, it's possible I'm also being really stingy and unfair. Either way, it's still lots of fun. And like I said, Miyazaki's done both better and worse since then. Anyway, closing thoughts?

I'm truly glad you got me to watch this movie. It had a little bit of everything: comedy, action, adventure, and even a little emotional heft. Is it The Shawshank Redemption or Goodfellas? Well, no. And the characters, while fun, aren't going to live in my head rent free like Jason Voorhees or Indiana Jones do. But I think it deserves to be seen and enjoyed on its own merits as the fun, light-hearted romp that it is. I don't think it's something I'm going to go back to endlessly over the years, but I'm looking forward to showing it to my kids in the near future, and between it and My Neighbor Totoro I'm very much looking forward to exploring more of Miyazaki's work.

Believe me, it's only uphill from here.

As for me, despite any issues I might have with facets of it, I don't want anyone to think I'm being unfairly critical of The Castle of Cagliostro. It's a pleasant side-romp in the Lupin III franchise, contrary to what diehards may say, and it's still lots of fun. If anything, I'd say to give it a watch for that Fiat chase in the first-act alone. That short sequence is already a mini-masterpiece outside of the rest of the movie. In short, I give this movie a pretty solid 4/5.

I'm curious if you'd agree on the score.

I think that's pretty fair. It would be in the 3.5-4/5 scale for me as well.

And I'd ask the diehards to put aside their preconceived notions of what they think these characters should be and try to enjoy this movie for what it is.


Preaching to the crowd there, Chris.

A big thank you again for helping me out with this piece. I know it wasn't easy working around your schedule, or mine, but I appreciate you doing it anyway. Any last words you want to say before we end this?

I am just as appreciative of you for asking me to collaborate! I enjoyed this immensely, and I hope your readers do as well, and hopefully we can work together again in the future. Hopefully in a post-COVID world, and hopefully that world is around the bend! Thanks! 

From your lips to God's ears. And remember, do track down the Manga Entertainment dub at some point. It's really good!

But anyway, I'll see you all next time...whenever that is (hopefully soon, since I like writing opinion pieces.)

Tuesday, December 8, 2020

The Jewish Question?

I know what you’re thinking: why title this with an overtly-Antisemitic dog-whistle? Well, for two reasons. The first is that SEO, or Search Engine Optimization, stats favour hot topic buzzwords or terms, and my last few pieces haven’t really been hot topics. The second is to subvert the idea that there’s even a question. Because Jewish identity manifests in different ways for different people. 


This week marks the beginning of the Chanukah season. Aside from 2020 being a nightmare for socialization, thanks to a pandemic, for the first time ever I won’t be going to a family Chanukah party. I feel bad because I love my family, but it’s that exact love that makes it important to keep my distance. Especially now that I’m an essential worker, but I digress.

I mention this up in light of an article written for The New York Times by a queer woman named Sarah Prager. She mentions her passing, perhaps fleeting, experience with Chanukah growing up in an intermarried household, and how her passive observance of the holiday has done little to keep her invested nowadays. It’s sympathetic, but given that it doesn’t show much favourability for Judaism, I can’t help wondering why it was selected over other pieces. Then again, with an editorial section as hit-or-miss as The New York Times, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised?

Fortunately, my concern isn’t isolated. The article managed to spark a conversation online amongst other Jews, myself included, leading me to wonder how much I identify with Chanukah myself. Let’s face it: Chanukah isn’t such a big holiday in Judaism. It’s not mentioned in The Torah, it has a passing mention in a book in the Tanach that isn’t canon, and most of its Halacha was codified in The Talmud; in fact, had it not been for Christmas, there’s a chance that the gentile world wouldn’t know of its existence. And while it’s a commercialized holiday, I wouldn’t put it at the high-end of personal favourites either. 

But I’m in a minority. Having grown up with a somewhat-traditional background, though it’s grown stronger in recent years, my Jewish identity’s always been at the forefront of who I am. It’s no different than my disabilities, honestly. Being Jewish was never a question for me, it’s something that simply was. Even when I didn’t want it to be, which happened on occasion too.

I know that every experience is different, but being a Jew was always a no-brainer for me. Which is why I can’t wrap my head around why someone would abandon it out of disenfranchisement, even if they’re not personally invested. Because Judaism isn’t only empty ritual. And even atheists can find something in it if they dig deep enough.

I’m also confused as to why Judaism, particularly Chanukah, is considered embarrassing. Not only is it one of the holidays the non-Jewish world actually understands, but it’s also beautiful on its own. It was forced into existence by partisans risking their lives to fight the tyranny of an oppressor. Chanukah, essentially, is the Jewish-equivalent of The American Revolution, except without the military colonialism aspect. It’s also the holiday of the miracle of science, a small jug of oil partitioned and used over 8 days. It’s not exactly a “major” holiday, but it’s a “cool” one. 

Yet Chanukah represents something deeper too. More than beating the odds, or rededicating The Temple, it’s the holiday of reclaiming identity in the face of erasure. This is the one time where you get to wave your Jewishness in the face of those who’d state otherwise. This is your “get out of homogeneity free card”, and it’s unfortunate that that’s seen as bad. Especially considering how so many of our ancestors had to fight to keep it that way.

There are stories throughout history of Jews defying decrees to celebrate Chanukah. Perhaps the most-interesting one, in my mind, is in the Theresienstadt concentration camp, where Jewish prisoners would smuggle woodblocks, pieces of discarded rope and tallow into their barracks, carve a Menorah and, in fear of death, light Chanukah candles. That might seem passé given the examples of outward resistance, but it showed resilience of the Jewish spirit. So why throw that away, especially without appreciating it?

It’s not like I haven’t felt the pressure to assimilate or conform. I have. I remember when I first started wearing my Kippah full-time in high school, and I was urged to take it off on transit rides because my tics would invite unwanted questions. I refused, always feeling guilty for doing so. Even in later years, as I’d travel for work, I’d feel the urge sometimes to remove it and blend in. But I’d feel naked without it, so I never have. And while I’ve experienced Antisemitism because of it-one person accused me of trying to rape him because I wanted to sit next to him-I still feel more comfortable with it on. 

And it’s not only the Kippah. My daily prayers, which I find challenging for many reasons, keep me spiritually grounded. My dietary restrictions, which make it hard to find food in remote areas, have helped me learn to say no. And Shabbat, which limits my work availability, gives me a chance to relax and recharge. I’d never give any of that up.

So why’s it shameful to hold onto that? I understand being uncomfortable with Judaism and queerness, and I know people who struggle with that daily, but to toss it all out the window? And without appreciating its depth? Even with intermarriage, which is complicated, that Judaism isn’t even considered seems like a waste!

I guess, for me, Judaism isn’t a question so much as it simply is. That’s it. There’s no arguing around it, it’s there. And while it’s hard and sometimes taxing, no one ever said that anything worthwhile was easy.

That’s not necessarily bad! My openness about my roots has made me the source of intrigue around non-Jewish friends and co-workers. I’ve been bombarded with questions about X, Y and Z often, and sometimes I’ve been regarded as an authority despite lacking Rabbinic training. Not all of it’s been pleasant, I was once accused of being a “white colonizer”, but enough has that I don’t mind. And I’m equally as open to reciprocating that.

But maybe I’ve been blessed. I’ve had a certain level of privilege that comes with being an Ashkenazi Jew. And the worst of the Antisemitism I’ve received has either been occasional accusations of white supremacy, the odd person calling me a predator, or Twitter feuds over Israel. If that’s the worst of it, then maybe I’m the wrong person to be writing this.

Still, it’d be dishonest to write this off entirely. Prager not only discusses how Chanukah means nothing to her, but also that she doesn’t feel Jewish! Why publish that, when so many in her position would be willing to write about trying anyway? It’s counterproductive when your big piece for “The Holiday of Lights” involves snuffing out that fervour. 

Nevertheless, if there’s one takeaway here, it’s that this is the wrong tone to set. I’m sure Prager meant well, and I don’t think she intended to start a controversy, but the end-result still feels like gaslighting. If Yaakov the Patriarch’s nickname, “Israel”, means “to wrestle with God”, then why isn’t that being stressed too? The New York Times could’ve used that angle and made as much of an impact there. If anything, it’d probably have been inspiring to see a little bit of Israel in an unaffiliated Jew!

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

Dungeons and Dragons Wars

December 16th, 2020 marks the 1-year anniversary of Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker in theatres. Despite closing both a trilogy and a trilogy of trilogies, it wasn’t well-received. It currently holds a 51% on Rotten Tomatoes and a 53 on Metacritic, making it the worst-received Star Wars film proper. It’s been thrashed by fans and detractors alike, leaving an outsider to believe that it single-handedly killed the franchise. But did it? 


I’ve made no secret what I thought of the movie earlier this year, when I ripped-apart the fandom in my entry for Star Wars Defined. I feel bad in hindsight, as I don’t really think it was the movie or the fanbase’s faults. A combination of overhype and personal expectation (or lack thereof), like with Ready Player One, led to disgust over the backlash. It might’ve been “bad”, but it was a movie. And it was being treated as a blight. Naturally, I overreacted. 

As anticipated, I put it out of my mind after writing my thoughts and moved on. It wasn’t until I started Season 1 of The Mandalorian on Disney+ that I realized why this bothered me so much. It wasn’t because I don’t like The Mandalorian, because I do. EU fanfic material aside, which it feels like at times, the show is solid Star Wars content. Rather, my issue stems from a deeper, more-pressing concern that Star Wars fans keep forgetting:

Expectation.

Late last year, Patrick Willems took flak for an earlier statement he’d made about the franchise. He’d mentioned that Star Wars was “a movie about space wizards intended for children”, a sentiment he thought was self-explanatory, but others found hypocritical when he criticized the most-recent entry. To be fair, he walked right into that, I won’t lie. But I also think his original statement holds truer than he may have realized. Especially when you think about what George Lucas’s original vision was. 

Star Wars, like superhero comics, is an inherently dumb concept. It’s basically the grungy, science-fiction version of a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, one with no set rules that’s gone on for decades. The dungeon master keeps changing, the active party roster keeps evolving and the lore’s become so massive that it’s too big to summarize even with a purge of half of its continuity. And it’s been active for two generations, so it’s bound to get messier.

I mention this to show how flexible Star Wars lore is. I remember once hearing there’s enough content to have an Avengers-style showdown even with its side-stories, but I think it goes further. As much of a cop-out as this might be, Star Wars can get away with practically anything, so long as it adheres to the grunginess that came before it. I really mean that.

Think about:, the ideas presented in Star Wars were already pretty far-out there: the original POV characters were two robots, one of whom couldn’t talk. The story didn’t introduce its protagonist on good terms, and his mentor was a hermit who could manipulate space Nazis with a wave of his hand. Even the big baddie, a hulking guy in a black suit who always shouted, could use that power, as evidenced by him choking a subordinate. Factor in the hairdos, bizarre-looking aliens and constant references to magic in aggressive terms, and you’re left with something definitely out there. 

Every subsequent addition has only gotten more bizarre: want the big baddie to look creepy? Show the back of his disfigured face and have him serve an emperor with an even more-disfigured face. Want his master to be scary? Make him sound like he’s on a respirator and give him lightning abilities. Want to defeat said master? Throw him off a cliff like a deadweight and watch him explode…assuming he’s dead at all.

Even the prequel expansions make stuff up constantly. Like how space magic lives inside your bloodstream. Or how you can use it to create a Jesus child. Or how you can clone someone’s DNA to create an army of super-soldiers, only to have them turn on you with a codeword. Or even how your Jesus character can turn evil, suffer third-degree burns and wind up on life support, setting the stage for the original movies.

The sequels add to this even more. Not only has the campaign been around long enough to be meta-textual, but its core concepts are still being fleshed out: that princess who was implied to be a magic user? She’s now a general who has heart attacks when someone dies, and she can also fly in space. The big baddie from the original films? He’s worshipped like a god by his grandson. Even the new final boss gets dispatched halfway through, only to be revealed as a clone created by the guy who was presumed dead earlier. Oh, and the main character’s his granddaughter now…somehow. 

Basically, Star Wars works not because it makes sense, but because it doesn’t. And that’s okay. The dumb, nonsensical role-playing game keeps getting add-ons and retcons, yet somehow still functions. This is despite basic parts of its campaign directly contradicting one-another. Because it still resonates with its core audience: pre-teens.

I’m not sure what else someone could want. Sure, it’s also a commentary on American imperialism. True, it alludes to Nazi Germany a lot. And yes, its writing’s heavily-repetitive. But even when it tries being clever, which does happen sometimes, it’s still aware of that and rolls with it. I can’t say that about many franchises these days.

That’s also why, even on a bad day, I appreciate it for what it is: a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that’s never-ending. Will it always be good? No. Will it always be clever? No. But so long as it keeps being itself, it’s guaranteed to maintain relevancy. 

And that’s fine. Star Wars only has to appease its core audience. And all it needs to do that is be dumb, silly fun. What’s so wrong with that?

I’ll end by referencing The Cosmonaut Variety Hour. In one of his Star Wars videos, he mentions that Star Wars is, by its nature, a series of bad movies. The acting sucks, the storytelling’s messy and none of its internal logic makes sense. But that’s okay, because a lot of care and talent routinely goes into making it look “not bad”. I think that couldn’t be truer, so long as you also accept the lack of consistency.

Now then, about The Mandalorian’s release schedule

Sunday, November 29, 2020

Whisper of the Heart and the Creative Process

This year marks the 25th anniversary of Whisper of the Heart. I completely forgot until I saw this trailer:

*Hums “Country Roads”. (Courtesy of Madman Anime.)*

It’s surreal to think that not only has it been 10 years since I purchased this movie, but that it’s officially 25 years old. For relative figures, it came out when I was 5. It’s the same age as Pocahontas and Toy Story, two movies I also remember fondly from then (though Pocahontas not as much). It’s also the first and only feature-length film from the late-Yoshifumi Kondō, who died from complications of a brain aneurysm in early-1998. And it’s one of my favourite Studio Ghibli movies.

To better understand why this movie’s dear to me, I should start with what drew me to it. See, university was tough. I’ve covered this on Infinite Rainy Day, but my alma mater went on strike for 85 days in my first year. This not only lost me 3 months, it also threw off my adjustment period. I lost my entrance scholarship because my grades slipped, and my second year was catch-up. By the time Summer 2010 rolled around, I was a mess.

Interestingly enough, Summer 2010 was the year I discovered Studio Ghibli, beginning with a scratched copy of Spirited Away my brother’s friend accidentally left at our house. Within a month of finishing it the first time, I’d purchased as many of their films that I could find. Whisper of the Heart, together with My Neighbors the Yamadas and The Cat Returns, I found during a trip to HMV that I’d made after sneaking out of a class with a professor I didn’t get along with. (Don’t worry, I got plenty of crap for that!) 

Whisper of the Heart was also the movie of the three that I gravitated to most. Who could blame me? It might’ve thrown me off initially by not being a true fantasy movie, contrary to the cover, but it spoke to me. It’d take a few years and several viewings to fully-grasp, but the film had more to say about my experiences of all the Studio Ghibli movies. That’s because, Whisper of the Heart’s about the creative process.

Think about it: Shizuku Tsukushima’s a scatterbrained bookworm with insecurities about her own talent. She’s inspired to write a novel when the boy she has a crush on travels to Cremona Italy, making it a goal to finish it before he returns. While writing, her chores get neglected, her appetite dwindles, her schoolwork suffers and her sleep is disturbed by her flow. And once she’s done and gets an audience, she recoils at the positive feedback.

I relate to all of this on a personal level. I was obsessed with fantasy growing up, to the point of neglecting schoolwork. I often get obsessive during my flow, often neglecting chores, food, other work and sleep. And whenever I receive positive feedback on my work, I recoil and feel insecure. Shizuku is me, to the point of feeling attacked. And I don’t know how to feel about that. 

But at least she’s able to sing, like me. It’s one of the few, non-writing skills I picked up with little effort, even if my Tourette’s Syndrome makes it hard. Her singing ability plays a big part in the film, resurfacing at several points. It’s silly, yes, and perhaps even embarrassing, but singing makes you vulnerable. It’s a lot harder than speaking, and it forces you to be honest in ways that other communication doesn’t. That’s something captured brilliantly here.

Another area of the creative process that’s captured wonderfully is creative obsession. Aside from neglecting reality because of her writing, there’s a scene where Shizuku falls asleep at her desk and her leg starts twitching. That hits home hard as someone who’s been up late writing and can’t shake off ideas for new content before. I like that Whisper of the Heart touches on this, but I also kind of don’t. Because it’s painful to watch.

On the flipside, it’s refreshing to see Shizuku acknowledge the power of writing itself. This past Summer I took up an online novel writing course through Coursera, completing a 20-Chapter manuscript that amounted to almost 50000 words. It was a daunting, often unforgiving experience, especially during the Table Reads where I listened to how my characters sounded from the mouths of other people. Still, like Shizuku says herself, I’m glad I pushed myself. I know myself a little bit better now. I only wish I could detach myself enough to revise my manuscript, but… 

It’s a shame that Yoshifumi Kondō died so young. Like Satoshi Kon, he was in his prime, only starting to show the world what he was capable of. Unlike Kon, however, he never got to follow-up Whisper of the Heart, making him more under-appreciated. Especially since, final scene aside, his movie was practically a masterpiece! But I guess life sucks like that, huh?

Either way, I think this movie’s amazing. I even think its English dub enhances it, showing how awkward and embarrassing the creative process can be for young people. If Kiki’s Delivery Service helps me with burnout, then Whisper of the Heart amends and refreshes my spirit. It reminds me why I enjoy writing, and I can’t thank it enough!

So here’s to 25 years, and 25 years more! May it continue to inspire!

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Ready Player Deuce?

Life likes being annoying, huh? 


Ernest Cline’s a controversial figure. Personal opinions aside, his writing’s love-it-or-hate-it. His most-famous book, Ready Player One, is where it’s most-apparent, being touted as either engaging, or a slog-fest of pop culture references. So, naturally, his book was turned into a movie.

I don’t need to reiterate my thoughts on that movie. I’ve shared them before, both pre and post-release. And besides, it’s a Spielberg release. It might not have been “amazing”, but it was leagues above what people expected. But I’m getting carried away…

Anyway, because the book was successful, Cline immediately went to work on a sequel, Ready Player Two. And now it’s officially out. And people are mixed on it. Which means rolling my eyes and wishing people would chill out. But that’s never going to happen, so why try? 

Honestly, I’m not even sure what people were expecting: a masterpiece? An improvement over the original? Because I doubt you’ll be getting either, especially with prose like this:
“There it was: number 42. Another of Halliday’s jokes—according to one of his favorite novels, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the number 42 was the ‘Ultimate Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything.’”
These books aren’t exactly deep, and that’s okay. That’s not to say you can’t criticize them, I’ve been critical of them myself, but demanding more from something you know is trash is like expecting rotten fruit to not make you sick: what were you honestly expecting? 

My concern is that people are demanding way too much. It’d be one problem if there was a different expectation for Cline, or if he’d already proven himself. That’s not the case here, though. With Cline, what exists is a duology that feels like overly-sentimental and really trashy fanfics of what nerds think is good writing. It’s the “blackface” of fiction, essentially.

I know what this is really about: quelling a toxic mindset. And I get it, I really do. Nerds were abused and shut out for so long that they’re unable to adjust to a world that now accepts them. They’re stuck in the 80’s, not realizing that was four decades ago. Like most people stuck in the past, they can’t adjust to reality.

Still, as tempting as it might be to mock something that artificial, is it worth the energy? Is it worth slamming the novel equivalent of candy corn? It might not be healthy, or even the best kind of junk food, but candy corn has fans. So long as these fans appreciate that what they’re consuming isn’t good for them, then what’s the big deal? 

I also wouldn’t be as bitter if it weren’t for the elephant in the room: the movie adaptation of Ready Player One. When that was first announced, and well into the years that followed, the internet’s reaction was extremely negative. Perhaps it was even toxic. There was no room for actual discussion, nor room to acknowledge that books and movies are different mediums. That one of modern cinema’s greatest directors was helming it was ignored, as was the fact that the head screenwriter had experience with nerdy ensemble pieces. All of this went out the window in favour of the negatives.

I even ended up putting the title on a one-month moratorium on Twitter. It wouldn’t be the last time I’d do that, but it wasn’t an easy decision to make. I mean, it was a movie! Even horrible movies have some degree of talent behind them! So why have this much ire? Wasn’t it bad enough to claim that Avatar had no fans?

It sounds like I’m really frustrated, but I’m not. I don’t care for Cline’s books, his writing doesn’t appeal to me. I also think these sorts of stories work better as films, as film excels at this kind of fan-service more than text-based books. It’s especially true in light of Spielberg having already improved on the source material. He not only made the protagonist, Wade Watts, feel genuine, but he also made Halliday a tragic figure. He found the humanity in this story. 

That’s missing in the discourse, and it’s disappointing. Because I don’t think that wish fulfillment VR is a bad concept, especially when grounded in tangibility. It’s been done before with The Matrix, so why not video games? Is it really considered to be that farfetched? Because it isn’t to me!

Like it or not, Cline’s work provides meaning to some people. And some of them have legitimate reasons for why. Remember, life’s hard and frustrating. We all need escapism on occasion, even if it isn’t “good”. Gatekeeping that does no one favours. That’s something I’ve learned over time.

However, if that doesn’t comfort detractors, we can always wait for the inevitable movie of Ready Player Two. Because I’m sure it’ll be leagues better than the book it’s based on, right? 

*****

So I figure I owe you all another update: my planned collaboration isn’t happening. I lost my third partner due to work obligations, and I wasn’t able to find a replacement. I’m sorry about that, as I don’t like breaking promises to my readers.

On the plus side, I have another project I want to try. I won’t give any more details, in case it falls through too, but hopefully I can get that going soon. In the meantime, enjoy this piece, and I’ll see you next time!