When Heroes Age...

One of the difficulties of serialization is the passage of time. On one hand, franchising’s profitable and allows for multi-film storytelling. On the other hand, actors age. And while Hollywood tries slowing down and reversing aging, making it a multi-billion dollar industry, you can only delay it so much. Additionally, the camera doesn’t lie, and audiences take note.

In recent years, there’s been an attempt to try and work around this. Known as “the legacy sequel”, these movies use stars aging as a way of passing the mantle to newer, younger generations. However, like any gamble, it doesn’t always pay off. And sometimes it can be divisive, as in the case of two IPs with entries released in The 21st Century. They’re also Lucasfilm IPs that purchased by Disney that’ve accrued massive backlash because of decisions fans have deemed “incorrect”. But is that backlash warranted?

The first of these franchises is Star Wars. Ever since Disney purchased it in 2012, it was inevitable that they’d milk the property for all it’s worth. It makes sense, as Star Wars has plenty of potential for serialization. However, there were early growing pains here. And nowhere was that more apparent than in The Sequel Trilogy spanning from 2015 to 2019.

I don’t need to go too in-depth here. Despite two of the entries being critical darlings, longtime fans remain divided. This division centred on many areas, but chief among them was Luke Skywalker. Luke, according to canon, had become a hermit who rejected The Force after failing Ben Solo and accelerating his turn to The Dark Side. When Rey attempted to have him confront The First Order, Luke was resistant and resentful. It was only after a conversation with Force Ghost Yoda that he projected his essence, apologized to his nephew and faced down The First Order.

While a unique and bold take on the “elder mentor” trope, many fans weren’t happy. Some considered it a “betrayal of what Luke Skywalker stood for”, claiming Disney had “murdered Star Wars”. I definitely think it’s dark and risky, but it does fit in with Luke’s human side. After all, Luke in the original films wasn’t flawless. He was whiny for two whole movies, even confronting Darth Vader before he was ready and losing his hand. And while he matured for the finale, he also snapped and nearly killed Vader because Vader had threatened to harm Leia.

Essentially, Luke wasn’t the pariah people remember him as. This is especially true because Luke didn’t even end up trying to murder Ben. He felt the urge, let it pass, and was unfortunate enough to have Ben sense it. It was a moment of weakness, and a failure of restraint, but it, while clunky, adds layers to his confrontation with The First Order and ultimate redemption. Isn’t that what good character writing’s about?

I know I’ll probably get crap for saying this, but this backlash, aside from being partially walked back with the next film, led to the Darktrooper hallway fight in The Mandalorian. That’s a fun moment, showcasing Luke’s strength in his prime, but it’s not new for Luke. It’s not new period, being a retread of Darth Vader’s massacre at the end of Star Wars: Rogue One. And while it’s cool to see Luke fight enemies not even Dinn Djarin could take on, the lack of new material is concerning. Why are we opposed to Old Man Luke being a regretful hermit, yet find this exciting?

I like Disney’s Star Wars content. I like Star Wars in general, even when I’m lukewarm on it. Jedi Master Luke Skywalker massacring Darktroopers is fun, and on some level satisfying. But Old Man Luke Skywalker going from jaded mentor to Crait hero is more fun, because it’s grounded in character growth. It also allows Mark Hamill to flex his acting chops in an age-appropriate manner. Because he’s getting older.

On the flip side, there’s Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, which I watched for this piece. I’ve made known my thoughts on the Indiana Jones movies before, but this installment, more than any other entry, tackles how its star is getting older. Harrison Ford was 81 years old when it debuted, and Indy’s age is a primary focus. The film even uses de-aging technology for the flashback scene in the beginning. Said flashback doubles as the opening act.

I won’t discuss the Uncanny Valley aspect of seeing a young Harrison Ford with an older Harrison Ford’s voice. Plenty of more accomplished individuals have done that justice. However, tying in Ford’s advanced age in general with a commentary on Indiana Jones was wise. Without sounding too ageist, there are some stunts Ford can’t do anymore. That’s not to diminish how much he loves this character, but he needs to acknowledge his limitations.

Perhaps the best example is when he and his goddaughter, Helena Shaw, are climbing a cliff and Indy starts complaining. He states that he has a metal plate in one leg and screws in the other. He also points out that Helena is “half his age”, a subtle jab at youthful vitality. Here, the film interrogates if Indiana Jones still has what it takes. Should he persevere, or hang up his hat?

This movie would’ve been a great vehicle for Helena, but there’s a problem: she’s not likeable for most of it. She flip-flops between two modes: smarmy know-it-all, and obnoxious show-off. I don’t blame her actress for this, either. Phoebe Waller-Bridge co-wrote No Time to Die, and she was great as L3-37 in the Star Wars franchise. She does her best here, but she can’t save the character. Not even in the finale, where she and Teddy are forced to play hero.

It’s a shame because the movie isn’t even that bad. It lacks some of the franchise’s more overtly-racist overtones, and director James Mangold definitely cared while making it. Considering Steven Spielberg has admitted that his heart wasn’t really in it with the previous entry, that passion’s an asset. But it’s not enough. Not when your co-lead isn’t fun for most of your runtime.

The blame doesn’t lay on Harrison Ford either. Despite his age, he clearly still cares. But people picking on Ford’s age, especially when he’s not ready to give up the mantle, is a problem. De-aging software’s getting better every day, but is it enough? And will it ever give the authentic performance of a real actor?

I know the solution for many people is to do what Star Wars did: have a younger actor as a stand-in, then graft Ford onto the body. After all, punching Nazis is entertaining! But while this sounds fun superficially, it rings hollow and might even be objectionable. Because getting older is interesting. Staying youthful forever, however, isn’t.

If an actor wants to age out of a character, it should be their decision. Let them leave naturally, as opposed to CGI continuing it indefinitely. Because the audience knows. Executives can claim otherwise, but you can’t fake authenticity. It doesn’t matter how much digital makeup you cake on.

That’s really the dilemma here: what’s the appropriate way to be respectful to aging action stars? Better yet, what’s the appropriate way to be respectful to aging actors, period? People don’t live forever, and part of the fun of life is growing older. Besides, the character of Peter Pan, while beloved, was meant as a cautionary tale. Unfortunately, many people don’t heed that warning. And it’s a shame.

If all else fails, I guess Blade Runner 2049 shows how to properly tackle this approach. Seriously, give it a watch. It’s that good! And if you’re disappointed? Well, at least it respects its aging star, right? I think so.

Best. Passover. Tradition.

Let’s get this out of the way: The Prince of Egypt’s a Jewish movie, not a Christian one. There are universalist themes of freedom and faith present, and I have no qualms with Christians taking something from it. But it’s a story from The Torah, the vision of Jewish artists and was meant for a Jewish audience. Considering how many Christian-centric movies and shows there are, we Jews are entitled to claim this as our own. It’s why I’m convinced Season 3 of The Mandalorian’s Jewish-centric subtextually.

The Prince of Egypt’s one of my favourite animated films. Its ambition sometimes overrides its narrative, but so did The Ten Commandments. And that’s considered a classic. Though if we’re being honest, I like The Prince of Egypt more. Yes, those are fighting words. We can take this outside...

Every time I watch this movie, I notice new details. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I understood the Hebrew words Yocheved speaks in “Deliver Us”. As an adult, the movie’s subtext became more apparent. Late-20s me recognized its musical motifs, as well as how they’re used for effect. Even now, I appreciate the setups and pay-offs to side-character beats, even if they seem insignificant. I’m sure I’ll appreciate more details in 5-10 years.

There are many behind-the-scenes stories that are equally as interesting. I know it pioneered plenty of CGI backgrounds that’d later become the norm. I also know animators who fell behind were sent to work on Shrek. And I know Steven Spielberg wanted to make this movie for close to a decade, being held back by technological limitations. There’s so much about the production that, like Jaws, is more interesting than the movie. Except that I love this movie anyway.

I appreciate the use of Hebrew for certain verses in “Deliver Us” and “When You Believe”. I don’t like how there are direct inferences to God’s spoken name, especially given Judaism’s stance on that, but it adds an authenticity that you wouldn’t get otherwise. I love how Israeli singer and activist Ofra Haza voiced Yocheved. Considering she died of AIDS due to a blood transfusion, this is her legacy. I can’t imagine anyone else as Yocheved.

This movie’s subtext is striking and bittersweet. This is a Biblical story, but it’s also a human one. It’s the tale of two brothers torn apart by destiny. In Moses’s case, he’s pitted against Ramses in order to free the Hebrew slaves. This could’ve been an old-fashioned, operatic tale of good versus evil, but it’s much more. Instead, it feels like a modern tragedy.

This is best reinforced in how Ramses lets the Hebrews go. In the original text, it’s only after a series of false promises that Moses wins, and only through exhausting Ramses. Here, Moses only wins because he’s broken Ramses emotionally. It’s not triumphant, but rather quiet and sad. Moses even cries afterward.

I know YouTuber Lindsay Ellis has taken issue with The Prince of Egypt because of this. It’s hard not to sympathize, especially since God in this movie does some heinous stuff. It’s also hard not to empathize because, at least theoretically, Jews aren’t supposed to be vengeful. We see this in spilling the wine while mentioning The Plagues at the Seder; after all, human beings suffered! In that sense, I can’t fault Ellis.

While I can’t offer a satisfactory answer, as Scripture’s laden with violence and brutality, I do think this is a worthwhile movie. Besides, questioning this is healthy. If you’re not questioning your Judaism, you’re being Jewish incorrectly. After all, the original name for Jews, Israel, comes from the phrase “to struggle with God”. So this is normal.

And as for pay-offs? There are plenty. I appreciate how every detail in the story, including what each slave looks like, loops back at some point. Even the comedic goofs, like The Sphinx’s nose breaking during Moses’s and Ramses’s race, serve a purpose. They’re not all great pay-offs, but they’re definitely pay-offs.

I also, and this feels indulgent, appreciate the use of shoes. Most of the Egyptians wear gold-crusted sandals, while most of the Hebrew slaves are barefoot. Even Moses loses his sandals as he becomes in-tune with his roots, perhaps symbolic of his intimate connection with God. Little details like that don’t seem important narrative-wise, but they feel important thematically. Especially since shoes were considered a sign of wealth back then.

If I have any complaints, aside from overusing “When You Believe” in family gatherings, they’re minor. Like how the inclusion of a Boyz II Men song in the credits dates the movie. Or how some of the background animations feel constrained by the limitations of the times. Or even how most of the voice actors are Hollywood celebrities who aren’t Jewish. But none of these are deal breakers.

It’s a shame The Prince of Egypt wasn’t an immediate success. Sure, it was well-reviewed. And sure, it’s gained a cult following of dedicated fans. But initially it under-performed financially, forcing DreamWorks to rethink their strategy for success. Not even winning an Oscar at the 1999 Academy Awards could fix that. So while they’d hit their sweet spot with Shrek in 2001, this movie remains a “what if?” for the studio.

It also makes me pine for other Biblical epics. I know Hollywood’s averse to Biblical epics that aren’t Jesus or Exodus-related, but those feel cliché at this point. If Noah’s any indication, there’s potential for other stories to be told. Think of a Jericho movie, or an Esther movie, to name a few! They’re violent, especially near the end, but the possibilities are endless!

I guess I’ll have to settle for what exists, however. Even if it’s only Jesus and Exodus stories. I hope they’re not as bad as The Passion of the Christ and Exodus: Gods and Kings, though. The former was an exercise in religious torture porn, and the latter? Oh geez! As if I had further reason to never see another Exodus adaptation, right?

So yeah, that’s my take on The Prince of Egypt. Have a Happy Passover.

"Show, Don't Tell?"

For all those unaware, I’ve been working with an editor on one of my manuscripts. It’s my most-personal one to-date, and while it’s been fun to write, it needs plenty of refining. And I mean plenty! Each chapter has been a challenge to revise, but one of the recurring issues I’ve run into is the twofold problem of overwriting and underwriting. I’ve yet to master the art of “show, don’t tell”. Because it’s definitely an art.

This brings up two concerns, both colouring how I feel about storytelling. The first is a blindness to my limitations. I can see when someone else struggles with “show, don’t tell”, yet often miss it with my work. That’s inevitable, as I know what I’m trying to convey because it’s my story. I know all the ins and outs, forgetting that my readers don’t have that luxury. It’s tough, therefore, recognizing this imbalance, and I appreciate a second pair of eyes.

The other concern is much bigger. “Show, don’t tell” is a general rule, but it’s not set in stone. It’s surprisingly flexible too, and sometimes, as with world-building, it’s necessary to break it if it means front-loading important information. If you want a perfect example, look at the “One Ring” backstory in the Lord of the Rings franchise. It’s dense and long-winded, but it’s also crucial.

Another instance where “show, don’t tell” becomes a challenge is when discussing graphic material. Take sexual violence. You can show it in detail, but you risk over-showing and turning people off. Additionally, you might trigger painful memories for survivors. In that sense, perhaps telling’s more impactful. And if you must show something, keep the imagery sparse.

I think back to my personal favourite example, that of Rose in Fullmetal Alchemist. Rose is a victim of military gang rape while protecting vulnerable children. We never see this occur, but we do witness the aftermath in Rose’s child and her inability to speak. Rose goes through plenty of trauma, so perhaps not showing that is wise. At least, I think so.

Even within “show, don’t tell”, sometimes it’s difficult to decide what to remove. My editor used an example of “cutting a steak”: you don’t need to tell your reader that the steak was cut in four, or that it was cut a specific way. That’s a waste of words. However, my challenge to her involves exactly that. What if cutting the steak into four is relevant? What if it’s character-centric?

My issue revolves around what to remove, and what not to remove. What’s in the scene can be axed? Is the description of a cut steak significant, or is it filler? There are times when extraneous details help expand on a given scene. This is something Alan Moore was infamous for, as he’d send paragraphs upon paragraphs of descriptions to his artists. It was almost anal, but it helped set the backdrops.

Essentially, is going overboard helpful? And is there a way to do it without overwhelming your reader? I don’t know the answer. I know writers struggle with this too, especially when world-building from scratch. If you’re trying to immerse someone, isn’t more detail important?

I guess it depends what you’re trying to accomplish. Original worlds need more detail, true, but should you also trust your reader’s imagination? Do you have to describe the saddle if people already know what a saddle is, even if it contains important details? How much is too much?

What if your story archives time and place? Should you explain the details of a 17th Century house, or can you use short-hand? If you’re tackling specific cultures, should you explain details outsiders aren’t aware of? And should your story be generalized at all? Where do you stop explaining and start trusting?

Something that’s helped me with “show, don’t tell” is Alt-text. Alt-text involves explaining an image for the blind or visually-impaired, but even good Alt-text knows when to show restraint. From here, I’ve acquired the “50-50 rule”, which is shorthand for “meeting your audience halfway”. You give enough detail to set the stage, all while letting your audience fill in the gaps with their imaginations.

This has helped me a lot with my own writing. However, with that comes the challenge of knowing what to divulge. If a carpet has intricately-woven details, do you mention them and risk boring or overwhelming your reader? Or do you state that it has patterns, then leave it there? What’s the compromise?

I don’t know the answers, nor do I think there are any. All I know is that the battle between showing and telling is exactly that: a battle. And I doubt there are 100% correct approaches. It’s like my editor told me early on: there are ways to both be minimalist and embellish a story, and neither are wrong. You simply have to know what you’re trying to achieve.

In the meantime, I guess part of the process involves constant rewriting. I know it’s cliché to call this cliché, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. If anything worthwhile takes time, then so too does mastering “show, don’t tell”. I simply wish it wasn’t so tedious figuring it out, something I’m frequently reminded of from my editor. But that’s why she’s the professional…

I’ll end with a perplexing story that happened to me. I once got into an argument online with someone who mentioned they’d read manuscripts that were perfect right away. While this individual later clarified, I’m still skeptical. Even if it’s possible, I find it hard wrapping my head around achieving perfection in one take. Because all writers have blind spots. And if that makes me naïve, well…I guess that’s why I’m wrestling with “show, don’t tell”. I only hope I prevail there.

Disney's SoraAI Fiasco

I wasn’t a fan of Disney’s SoraAI deal. I know they’re a mega-corporate entity, and merchandise is part of why, but using consumer-driven slop for profit feels cheap. After all, they’re not a person! And there isn’t an equal relationship here! Why implement it at all?

Well, they didn’t. As you’ve no doubt heard, Disney cancelled their partnership with SoraAI. Not temporarily, not for an undisclosed period, permanently. I’d quip about Disney and an open flame, but that’s too on-the-nose. Especially since they knew the risks well in advance. It’s not like A.I. started being an issue yesterday.

Let’s get something clear (again): I’m not anti-A.I. It has its place, and it can be beneficial in specific instances. However, like with automation, there needs to be a balance. It should coexist alongside people, and it can’t make humans obsolete. Unfortunately, generative A.I. programs, like SoraAI, are doing that. And given the energy they use to operate, as well as the environmental costs, they’re not a wise investment.

I know I’ll get push-back for saying that. Somehow, some A.I. enthusiast will read this, get annoyed and try persuading me that I’m wrong. It happened when I bashed NFTs too. I don’t care. If you’re convinced human labour’s worthless next to generative A.I., there’s a good chance I can’t persuade you otherwise. You can argue with my hand if you disagree.

Circling back to SoraAI, it’s especially egregious because this was clearly a vanity project for Disney. They don’t need A.I. to sell their IPs. All they really need are young girls who want to be princesses and adults who haven’t grown up emotionally. It’s worked for decades, and they have no reason to abandon that. “Giving the tools” to “make art”, whatever that means, via generative A.I. isn’t the slam dunk they think it is.

Also, generative A.I. “art” isn’t art. At all. Ignoring its ugliness, and let’s not kid ourselves, art requires introspective thought to function. Art, to put it bluntly, communicates a thought, idea or emotion, something A.I., which can’t operate independently of its programming, can’t replicate. We’ve seen that with the plagiarism that it’s been guilty of, as well as the SCOTUS ruling on A.I. and copyright.

Besides, I doubt Disney was prepared for the legal can of worms they’d opened up. And if they were, I don’t think it’d be worth the fees. Remember, Disney’s incredibly protective of their IP, practically anal. They’re why American copyright laws are so strict, and they’ve gone after small fries for using their work without permission before. If partnering with SoraAI was going to involve what they claimed, which is user-generated art, it’d create a conflict of interest I’m not sure they’re ready for.

On the consumer’s end, I don’t think creators were ready either. Disney’s promise was to give them tools to promote their brand, but would they go through with that? Was ownership possible? And who’s to say perverts wouldn’t use their tools to create inappropriate prompts? Disney’s a family-friendly company, but a quick search of fan-art online will yield plenty of raunchy material. People are that horny.

With all this in mind, it’s no wonder Disney got cold feet and pulled the plug on SoraAI. It’s possible I’m overlooking the SoraAI side, as there were issues there too, but since Disney’s more public facing…you get the idea. Besides, partnering with a generative A.I. program, I’m sorry to say, is beneath them. It’s also demeaning to their animators, many of whom can produce better work than a machine. It might take longer, but no one said manpower was fast or easy.

I also don’t want the human element erased. People have been around for longer than A.I., and they’ve produced plenty of great art without it. That’s not changing anytime soon, and A.I. needs to adapt, not the other way around. If it won’t disappear, then it needs to become secondary to human labour, not an alternative. I wish A.I. enthusiasts understood that.

As a final note, A.I. enthusiasts need to not call human labour “obsolete”. I see this all the time on LinkedIn, with A.I. adopters promoting it like it’s the next hot commodity. It’s not. It’s a tool that’s abused to frequently disastrous effect, and it’s raising ethical concerns that shouldn’t exist. It’s also starting to fail financially and socially, as we’ve seen with the scandals that’ve arisen lately. That’s worrying.

I don’t know what’ll happen with generative apps like SoraAI. We can pray they’ll crash and burn, so as to teach tech oligarchs a lesson, but for every failed app, another one will take its place. The only viable solution, in my mind, is regulation. Because we’ve seen what out-of-control A.I. does. Rest assured it’s not pleasant.

So yes, I’m not upset that SoraAI and Disney didn’t end up with a successful partnership, and you shouldn’t be either. Because we can do a lot better, and it’s a shame that we had to find this out the hard way.

Axing Robin Hood

*Slides the “blogs gone without mentioning Disney” counter to zero*

I have a confession: I don’t care for Robin Hood. Specifically, I don’t care for the 1973 Disney movie, the one where the characters are anthropomorphized animals. I know it has a cult following with furries, and I get it. But for a movie about England’s legendary thief, it’s surprisingly boring and uninspired. It looks cheap, it sounds cheap and it feels hollow. It also falls into the trap many Disney animated movies of the 70s and 80s did, and I remember reading its director, Wolfgang Reitherman, was embarrassed to have his name attached (though I can no longer find the reference for that). I’m sorry if this offends anyone, but take it up with the megalith corporation.

On that note, I’ve never been hot on the live-action Disney remakes. I’ve seen a few, but most have felt like they were cashing in on brand recognition without the quality of the original material. Also, what’s wrong with those originals? Is it that they’re animated? What does Hollywood have against animated movies?

In February, it was announced that Disney’s management was shaking up, as CEO Bob Iger was stepping down (again). Replacing him was Josh D’Amaro, with Dana Walden as CCO. Iger was, in my opinion, divisive creatively, but he was good for Disney financially, so it’ll be interesting seeing what D’Amaro and Walden bring to the table. I don’t know enough about them, but surely they’ll bring some new life, right? I hope so!

Perhaps this new energy will show through Disney’s release schedule, which leads me to Robin Hood. According to insider reports, a live-action remake was slated for production, only to be scrapped alongside Bambi. This is interesting. As much as I don’t like Disney’s remakes, I get Bambi being remade: it’s a well-loved, critically-acclaimed movie about conservationism, which is perfect for modern moviegoers’ sensibilities. But Robin Hood? A movie that was never well-received, and was outdone in lacklustre quality by later adaptations, was getting a remake too?

Far be it for me to judge its fans. Furries are entitled to love movies too, and the Zootopia franchise has shown that Disney can do good by them. I also can’t be too bitter about Disney remaking it. They did justice to Pete’s Dragon, which had little going for it outside some impression animation from Don Bluth. But Robin Hood, a movie where the main character’s a talking fox for…reasons, doesn’t scream A-material to me. At least not as a 1:1 remake.

If we’re going by The Lion King, I don’t think it’s fair calling it “live-action”. Remaking a traditionally-animated movie in photo-realistic CGI isn’t live-action. There are no visible actors on-screen, all the “acting” is done with voice-overs. Unlike The Jungle Book, which had a real kid as Mowgli, all of the actors present used motion capture and were replaced with computers. That’s animation, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not.

Additionally, I’m not sure the premise would work with photo-realism. Say what you will about The Lion King, but the characters weren’t attempting human-like behaviour. Robin Hood, however, has the characters as stand-ins for humans. They wear human clothes, they talk like humans, they even stand upright. Unless Disney wanted a surrealist take ala Cats, I doubt it’d have happened without being creepy and a turn-off.

I don’t get why Disney would even want this. As ambitious failures from the 70s and 80s go, The Black Cauldron is a much better fit for a live-action remake. Not only is it based on a dark fantasy series, but live-action could do wonders should Disney take the Narnia approach. Especially since there’s an audience for that kind of movie. I’m not alone here, either.

By opting for a soulless cash grab, however, Disney would’ve soured people’s attitudes on their remakes even more. And yes, the live-action remakes aren’t supposed to be good. They’re meant to cash-in on cheap nostalgia for jaded adults who want to be 6 years old again. But that doesn’t mean Disney can’t put in effort. Nor does it mean they can’t be strategic about what they remake.

Basically, I’m not upset Walden axed this remake. No one wanted it, and it’d be another attempting at flushing money down the drain. By axing it, Disney now has the freedom to focus on ideas people are interested in. Like Pixar movies, original and sequels alike, as well as animated Disney musicals. That’s more interesting than a 1:1 retelling of a mediocre movie from the 70s.

I’m not an expert in movie-making. It’s possible the remake of Robin Hood would’ve ended up fantastic, I don’t know. I also don’t run Disney, so I have no power over their output. However, I’m glad this remake was scrapped. Especially since, from what I’ve gathered, audiences are becoming sick of Robin Hood movies, going by diminished returns.

I’m slightly more optimistic about Disney’s new leadership now. At least, creatively. It’s possible they’ll disappoint, especially since they have to appease shareholders, but this is a step in the right direction. And who knows? Maybe they’ll drag the studio out of their creative stagnation? Here’s hoping!

The ScrewAttack Magazine

It recently was ScrewAttack’s 20th anniversary. I’ve written about the site before, but I want to share a positive development. I was in a live-stream chat celebrating the site, and I was alerted that its magazine had been archived. Considering ScrewAttack had been wiped during its purchase by Rooster Teeth, I’d long thought anything from there was lost media. This disproved that. It’s only 17 issues, so not everything survived, but I figured this was a good time to reflect on the pieces I submitted. Especially since it was 15 years ago, and my writing style has changed significantly.

My first observation, and this is general, is how long-winded my thoughts were. I was in the early stages of self-editing, and I didn’t understand brevity. It often took three or four paragraphs to say what I now accomplish in one. It’s interesting looking back on, as, ironically, more of my personality seeped through. After all, why hide my thoughts if I had nothing holding me back?

This is most-apparent in my review of Okami. I happen love that game, even referring to it as the best Zelda entry once, but the first four paragraphs were me venting about its legacy. I’m unsure who I was venting to, only that it was approved with no edits. Looking back, I’d have done massive slash-and-burns on that. Especially since it wasn’t necessary.

Another example is my review of the best episode from Digimon: Zero-Two. I’m mixed on that season, but it’s telling how I threw shade at my summary of the plot. I mentioned how I spent close to 1800 words on it, and that was before my analysis! Was I always this verbose? It’s hard to say.

Moving on, it’s telling how unfiltered and raunchy I was. While ranting on the Tomb Raider franchise, I initially mentioned my disdain for fan-service, only to spend most of the piece rambling about that. The irony isn’t lost on me now. However, it’s amusing how unaware I was of that. Then again, I was in my early-20s…

This lack of self-awareness bleeds into my review of Wonder Woman. In it, I praised the movie’s lack of over-sexualization of its heroine, only to focus on that for an entire paragraph. I only recognize this now, as I was too focused on getting my thoughts out. But that’s what distance allows. The review even holds up, though I did the movie better justice in my compare-contrast piece.

In my Tomb Raider piece, I concluded with an open-ended series of questions. This is something I’d be forced to do at Nintendo Enthusiast, which I wasn’t happy about, but this sort of engagement doesn’t translate to a magazine. It works in a blog, where people can comment on your writing, but magazines are fixed. Unless they allow fan mail, and even then it’s an issue late, it’s a waste of space. That wasn’t on my mind when I was writing the piece, however.

The last point I want to mention is the magazine’s choices to convert blogs. Ignoring the typos, which were inevitable because the editor wasn’t a professional, some of the captions and clips didn’t translate from blog to magazine. This was back when I included captions and frequent video clips for effect. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it in. Or if they did, they were half-baked. My joke about sexism in Fullmetal Alchemist, for instance, is now its own paragraph, as opposed to an image with a caption. This doesn’t account for the review accidentally using images from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, which bothered me at the time. It’s funny retroactively, though.

Overall, this was an interesting time capsule from 15 years ago. I wouldn’t write this way now, I certainly wouldn’t use censored profanity, but I wouldn’t change anything. I couldn’t even if I wanted to! And I think that speaks to the power of art. As the saying goes: “Art is never finished, only abandoned.” Having written many pieces since then, I couldn’t agree more.

This is also a great argument for media preservation. In an era where online information’s at the whims of censorship, editing and deletion, discovering archived material is a blessing. It not only highlights your progress, it gives you something to compare yourself to. That’s a gift. And it’s something I cherish now that most of my work from that period exists as (sometimes corrupted) Word documents that rarely reflect the finished product.

Above all else, I have to thank HybridRain. It’s easy to look at some of the formatting and snicker, as English isn’t his first language, but I have to commend him anyway. He wasn’t being paid to make this magazine. It was purely a passion project, something he reminded us of regularly with each issue’s forward. Kudos to him.

There’s plenty about ScrewAttack that I look back on with regret: my failed exit in 2009 after an argument with some moderators. My one-month ban in early-2010 after an argument with some g1s. The controversy on TehPwnShop where g1s spent over 100 pages trashing me, an archive I’m grateful no longer exists. Even my one-week suspension from the ScrewAttack forums in 2015, which I’m still mixed on. Couple that with my un-diagnosed mental health issues, and it’s clear not everything was great.

This magazine isn’t that. I’d have loved more of my stuff be included, if only for preservation, but what made the final cut holds up decently. All that’s required is reading it with a magnifying glass, as the print is tiny. That, and manually scrolling through the pages, as they don’t line-up with the table of contents. I’m slightly bitter about that…

If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, consider reading some other pieces? There are 17 volumes, and they contain many voices. Some of these are people I keep in touch with, while others have faded into obscurity, but all are worth their time. Because this was a magazine built on passion. And who knows? You might find a new favourite!

Catching the Regis

Continuing my Pokémon high, I’ll share my bizarre experience catching the Regis in Gen 3 and 4. It took two days, and many mistakes, but I eventually managed it. Here’s how it happened. You ready? I am!

For context, the Regis are golem-like Pokémon doubling as Legendary Pokémon. It’s weird calling them that, as Golem’s a Pokémon you can acquire by trading in any generation. Nevertheless, the Regis were introduced in Gen 3 as three optional Pokémon to catch via a side-quest, with their leader, so to speak, being accessible in Gen 4. This basically forces you to not discard your GBA Pokémon game simply because you beat it. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In order to acquire Gen 4’s Regi, you need the National Dex from Professor Oak. This means seeing every Pokémon in Sinnoh’s Pokédex, including one I couldn’t acquire due to having Pokémon Pearl. Not to worry, I saw it through a photograph in the game. I guess that counts? The game thinks so.

With all 150 Pokémon from the Regional Dex logged, I received the National Dex and could traverse new areas. It made accessing The Stone Temple in Snowpoint City possible, as I kept getting turned away at the entrance. Once on the bottom floor, I could see Regigigas in the centre. It took a while to get there, as the floor was covered in ice, but once there I was ready for a fight. Unfortunately, I couldn’t challenge it, as I needed the Regis from Gen 3 in my party. Life is cruel, isn’t it?

Essentially, I needed my copy of Pokémon Emerald to achieve this goal. Complicating matters was requiring a Wailord and Relicanth, both of which needed patience to catch. Relicanth had me to traverse the ocean floor for a Pokémon that appears 5% of the time, while Wailord needed me to fish with my Super Rod in a specific location, catch a Wailmer and level it up so it could evolve. That was already getting off to a great start, as I caught a Wailmer at lvl 23 and had to do level grinding. It took all afternoon, and it sucked!

Once I had the appropriate prerequisites, the journey began. Making sure I flew to a specific route, I began the journey of riding the whirlpools and diving in a specific spot. I then entered a cave and went through a chamber inscribed with Braille. I’m no expert in Braille, so I was chained to a walk-through for the remainder of this quest. But with the instructions fulfilled, I heard a rumble and the three pillars signifying the Regis’s locations disappeared. It was time to start the hunt!

The first of the Regis was Regirock. Following the online guide, I used Dig in a specific spot and found it waiting. I’d also stocked up on Ultra Balls and Timer Balls, knowing this’d take a while. It did. I even restarted the game several times because I kept running out of items for catching Regirock. It didn’t help that my copy of Pokémon Emerald was so finicky that a slight push with my thumb made the game freeze and have to be restarted.

After many failed attempts, I caught Regirock. With one Regi down, I made my way to Regice. Surfing to another cave, I ran around the room’s perimeter, as the guide suggested, and opened a sealed entrance to find Regice. This fight was also tedious, but not as much thanks to it being more straightforward. It took two restarts, but I caught Regice.

It was now getting late, so Registeel, which the walk-through warned was the hardest one, would have to wait until after my shift the next day. I was antsy, eagerly awaiting the confrontation. Once I’d come home and gotten out of the shower, I turned on my game. I also made sure I’d stocked up on Ultra Balls and Timer Balls, both of which I’d run out of. I had to sell many of my unused items for quick cash to buy them. If you think that unwise, know that I’m not in the mood to beat The Elite Four in Pokémon Emerald anyway.

Registeel was a nightmare! Ignoring that I had to use Flash in the middle of its cave, a move I despise because it doesn’t do anything in battle, it was easily the hardest of the Regis. It took nearly two hours and multiple restarts, and it felt like a chore. I managed it, but I wasn’t satisfied. If anything, I felt like I’d wasted time.

With all three Regis caught, I turned off Pokémon Emerald and went back to Pokémon Pearl. The games have a one-way communication feature allowing you to port older Pokémon and recapture them via Pal Park, a mini-game that’s best described as The Safari Zone if you had six items and no time limit. Also, if those six items were Capture Balls that all had to be used. In other words, a tedious mini-game. I can’t complain too much, I’ve used Pal Park before, but really? This again?

After successfully capturing all six Pokémon, three being the Regis, I returned to The Stone Temple in Snowpoint City. I trekked through the underground location, making sure I had the three Regis on hand, and after another time waste with the icy floor’s maze, I made my way to Regigigas and saved my game, as this was supposed to be the hardest of the Regis. It took many failed attempts, and a near whiteout, to capture it with a Timer Ball, and this time I played the long game by frequently switching out Pokémon so the Timer Ball would work.

Was the Regis side-quest worth it? No. Like I alluded to previously, the newer Pokémon entries have made collecting every Pokémon a nightmare, with some no longer possible because of decisions Nintendo has made. Catching the Regis isn’t one of them, but it might as well have been. I’m “glad” I’m done, but I never want to do this again. I’m even debating if it’s worth catching Groudon, Kyogre and Rayquaza, in Pokémon Emerald and porting them to Pokémon Pearl. If it’s anything like catching the Regis...

Anyway, that was me catching the Regi Pokémon. If you’ll excuse me, I should detox.

Revisiting Gen 4

The Pokémon franchise recently turned 30 years old. It’s weird saying that, as I remember spectating over people’s shoulders at recess in Grade 1. I have my own Pokémon story, but my fondness for the franchise slowly soured with each generation. Aside from being frustrated with level grinding in Gen 2, Gen 3 was a chore challenging The Elite Four, and Gen 4…was where I lost interest. I remember ceasing my play-through before traveling to The Elite Four because it no longer hooked me. I even wrote about that on Nintendo Enthusiast, and I received push-back over my thoughts.

I was dreading going back to Pokémon Pearl because of this. Sure, my copy of the game had its save file intact, but I wasn’t sure if my concerns were still valid. Nevertheless, I figured it’d been long enough, so I gave it another try. And you know something? I was wrong. The game’s still good!

What had I missed? Was I an arrogant teenager when I first played it, clouded by angst and impatience? Could it have I needed time to mature? Perhaps I was letting my thoughts on the previous generations ruin this too? Or was it something else?

The answer’s all of the above. And I don’t think that was fair. It wasn’t the game’s fault that I had fading fondness of the franchise! Given my love of Pokémon Yellow, I doubt that was helping. I know that game off the back of my hand, to the point of obsession. It was inevitable that Gen 4 wouldn’t hold a candle to it.

What made it easier this time was continuing where I left off, as opposed to starting a new file. It was an adjustment, but I managed. Adding to this was how I still had many trainers to fight, as well as Pokémon to catch. This included legendary Pokémon, of which Mesprit was the most annoying. Seriously, why all the chasing? And why did Mesprit keep fleeing?

I eventually caught Mesprit with my Master Ball. I didn’t have to, online research suggested I could’ve used Mean Look to help me, but I figured it was less stressful than constantly traversing Sinnoh and praying that this time it’d stay put. Ironically, using my Master Ball to catch Mesprit meant my later chances of catching Cresselia, who relied on chasing too, were lower. Ah well!

(Note: I eventually caught Cresselia with a Master Ball I imported through Pal Park. I don’t like chasing after legendary Pokémon.)

The battles with The Elite Four, and Cynthia, were a challenge, but they were made better by two details: one, the level cap of wild Pokémon was more practical, with them going beyond level 30. And two, I could rematch trainers with an app I’d acquired, allowing me to grind and collect money for supplies. Both of these made the experience reasonable, and for that I’m grateful. It also made fighting The Elite Four, and Cynthia, less of a chore.

You know what helps? The map opens up a lot post-game. I was initially put off that there was a section of Sinnoh I couldn’t access, but beating the main game helped ease my concerns. The post-game content is also great…save chasing Cresselia. It’s like the cave where Mewtwo hides in Gen 1, except with several legendary Pokémon. Those battles were some of the highlights, even though they led to many sweaty palms and fake-outs.

This game takes full advantage of its post-game content. Whether it’s finding stronger wild Pokémon, battling legendary Pokémon, or even seeing the new paths, it really felt like Gen 4 addressed many of my complaints with Gens 2 and 3, as well as some from Gen 1. And with The National Dex opening my encounters further, it was a bonus! It was worth the additional 40+ hours I spent over the past week. Why was I so hard on this game?

There’s plenty about newer Pokémon generations that’s turned longtime fans off. The main mechanics haven’t evolved much since the mid-90s, even if the technology has. The Pokédex has become too expansive, with some Pokémon now being event-specific. Even complaints of newer entries being rushed and unfinished are prevalent! It feels like what was once a risky franchise is now playing it safe, with too few new ideas. That’s a problem, one Nintendo hasn’t fully remedied.

However, that doesn’t mean my thoughts on earlier entries haven’t evolved over time. Because they have. Gen 4, particularly Pokémon Pearl, is one example, having recaptured my interest after all these years. Perhaps I was being too hard on it? I’m rectifying that now.

I doubt my love for Gen 1 will ever be eclipsed. It’s hard to surpass the rush I get from seeing Kanto again, even as a remake for the Switch. However, my fondness can’t and shouldn’t be used solely as an excuse to dismiss newer entries. Because every generation has something to offer, and if it’s fun? Well, that’s what matters to me, and it should matter to other people too.

Scream for Me

I’ve never been into the Scream movies. I’m not much into horror, but those films specifically have never caught my fancy. So when I dedicate a piece to them, it isn’t because I have any positive or negative attachment. Understood? Good.

  

So the most-recent entry, Scream 7, has negative reviews already. This isn’t surprising, as it refused to pre-screen, but it’s especially troubling given that it’s the worst-reviewed in the franchise. It’s even more troubling given its production history, having derailed its original plans by firing Melissa Barrera over remarks made a few years ago. And not even the worst kind. This was during the height of the Israel-Gaza skirmish, and Barrera’s exit kick-started a chain of events that forced the movie to be completely retooled.

I’d like to clear up some misconceptions about Gaza: yes, Hamas has been subjugating its citizens for years. Yes, October 7th was a massacre, and anyone claiming otherwise is being naïve. Yes, Netanyahu’s partly to blame for that massacre, and refusing to hold himself accountable sucks. And yes, Israel’s actions in Gaza haven’t been great. All of this is true.

There’s been plenty of misinformation circulating about this war, and it’s led to group-think from everyone. There’s a possibility I’ll be criticized for my opinions on it, with both extremes chastising me for not “picking a side”. I don’t care, though. This isn’t a football match, it’s reality. And people have died, whether or not you want to acknowledge that.

Barrera’s remarks, irrespective of whether or not you agree, didn’t warrant her dismissal. Perhaps they were ignorant, I don’t know, but at best they warranted a reprimand. It’s also troubling because many actors have said far worse and haven’t been penalized. And if they have, like with Susan Sarandon, it was after years of warnings. Because the industry is like that.

By dismissing Barrera, Paramount shot themselves in the foot, as it caused Barrera’s co-star, Jenna Ortega, to also leave, followed by the director. This forced the movie to be retooled to meet its deadline, leading to the current mess. Which begs the question of whether it was worth it. I know The Sunk Cost Fallacy is real, but was this chain of events warranted? Could it not have occurred differently?

I don’t know the answer in hindsight. However, this debacle has raised uncomfortable truths about the divide on Israel-Palestine. On one hand, there’s the financial side, which has taken Israel’s side for years because, good or bad, it’s beneficial. On the other hand, there’s the social side, which has been pushing back and made the conversation toxic. Both sides have caused ripple effects that are negatively impacting Jews and Palestinians, with a rise in hate crimes all around.

It’s been frustrating navigating this conflict for the last few years. My Jewishness was always something I couldn’t hide, but October 7th only exacerbated that. I’ve been covering my yarmulke in public. I’ve taken note of graffiti and posters all over the city, snapping screenshots of the most-egregious examples. Even conversations about the war have varied depending on who I’m talking to, as people’s biases are on full display. Factor in an increase in Antisemitism, and gentiles weaponizing Jewish trauma, and it’s been bad for me mentally. I say that knowing that many Jewish organizations have made discussing it difficult.

Barrera’s comments might’ve warranted a warning, but firing her derailed an entire movie franchise. It’s frustrating because while many celebrities have run their mouths off before, and some about this conflict, they’re not puppets. They’re entitled to political views, and they’re allowed to share them. It’s especially prescient because they can move the needle if they back their words with actions. We’ve seen it happen.

I know actors have a responsibility to their jobs. It’s important to not make your employers look bad. But shouldn’t that go for the reverse too? Actors are employees, and they’re human beings. They deserve to be treated as such, complete with dignities and rights. Wrongful dismissals are bad, especially when they implode a movie’s production. That can’t be overstated.

So what now? For starters, a serious conversation about Israel-Palestine needs to happen. And it needs to happen without anyone’s egos involved. Whether it’s acknowledging how Israel hasn’t always exerted its authority correctly, or how Palestine’s leaders haven’t helped their own cause, or even the generations of trauma on both sides, this reconciliation has to occur. Because it’s been long enough. We’ve let preconceived notions dictate everything, and if Scream 7’s an indication, not having this conversation is also bad. Basically, we need to do better.

Also, leave Jews and Palestinians alone. Most of us are trying to live our lives, and the attacks against us have made us distrustful of people. I know tensions are high, and there are real stakes involved, trust me. However, this isn’t helping. It’s a shame that it took a firing, and a subsequent movie’s disaster, to highlight this problem, but-actually, I doubt Paramount cares, given how they’ve been handling the Warner Bros. situation. Yet that shouldn’t stop everyone from learning from this. Because it was a mishap, and nothing will change unless we take action. I hope we make the right decision...

The Nostalgia Pill

Lately I’ve seen plenty of videos and articles saying “older was better”. Be it movies, TV, books, music or the like, it feels like inherent cynicism for the new is overtaking the conversation, with people pining for the past. While I’m sometimes guilty myself, it genuinely feels like the internet has embraced Peter Pan Syndrome. And it’s tiresome. It’s tiresome listening to, it’s tiresome engaging with, it’s tiresome all around. It also begs the question: what is it about nostalgic art that piques our curiosity more than current art?

First, let’s understand what nostalgia is. Taken from the Greek words “nóstos” and “álgos” (aka “a painful longing for home”), the phrase was conceived to describe soldiers abroad who had homesickness. Over time, it morphed to be about longing for the past in general. After all, the past was known, understood and fixed. The future, however, was unknown, mysterious and fluid. Since people are pathologically averse to what they can’t understand, it makes sense gravitating to the past.

Nostalgia isn’t inherently bad. Not only does the past teach us about the present, it also can be reevaluated when looked back on. That’s why art exists in “The 30-Year Cycle”, as artists mature and reflect on their childhoods. And given how political culture’s reactionary, for good or bad, having that nostalgic framework allows us to understand how societies progress or regress. Also, nostalgia, on some level, is comforting.

Nevertheless, that pining for nostalgia is dangerous when not checked with reality. There’s a twofold reason: one, it’s not healthy to stay in the past, especially at the expense of the present. And two, your understanding of the past is different than someone else’s, with biases based on privilege. Not everything about the past was great, and ignoring that hurts progress. Nowhere is this more apparent than in our current political zeitgeist.

Additionally, pop culture nostalgia, while fun, often blinds people to what’s current. Don’t like how a show ended? Claim it didn’t live up to its start. A rebooted or legacy franchise turned out differently than you expected? State that it’s lost its edge. Something’s gone on too long? Call it out. All of these responses are flooding the internet, and it makes having conversations difficult.

A while back, I saw a video analyzing how 2000s movies were more immersive because they focused first on world-building, something lost with modern storytelling. It was interesting, to but I found it reduced an entire medium to black-and-white metrics. There were plenty of 2000s movies that were non-immersive and preachy. I grew up then, after all! Subsequently, there are many modern movies that are immersive and not preachy in the slightest.

I think nostalgia played a huge factor, if unintentionally, in the underlying thesis. To reference a response to the comment I left, everyone remembers being 12 years-old. Cinematic storytelling ages, and not always the way we intend. What might’ve been revolutionary when you were younger might not hold up now. And your nostalgia sometimes clouds your judgement.

Perhaps this can be understood via MovieBob’s “Really That Good” episode on Transformers: The Movie. Bob states upfront that the movie isn’t great: it’s messy, sloppily-written and exists to merchandise newer toys. Additionally, many of its celebrity voices, like Orson Welles, clearly didn’t care, only agreeing to be there for a paycheque. However, Bob acknowledges that the movie still made an impact because it resonated with so many people. Fair enough.

However, I wonder if the movie should be reevaluated now that we’ve had two critically-acclaimed Transformers entries, Bumblebee and Transformers One, released theatrically. Both were labours of love, even if they were based on toys, and both told genuine stories. For the former, it was “a girl and her dog” premise akin to The Iron Giant. For the latter, it was a “friends to enemies” origin for Optimus Prime and Megatron. Both have gone on to become cult classics, too. Essentially, is nostalgia the only element keeping Transformers: The Movie relevant?

I have fond memories of garbage movies and shows. I loved Inspector Gadget as a kid, once watching it every day for a week, but the adult in me knows that it sucks. I loved Pokémon when I was younger, despite recognizing it pales to the games it was based on. Like Bob and Transformers: The Movie, I also have examples of art that I still connect with despite recognizing that it existed as vehicles for merchandising, the Digimon franchise being a prime example. However, my nostalgic attachments have kept these properties relevant, even if they’re not great-actually, Digimon Tamers holds up. But my point stands.

This unwillingness to live in the present, no matter what franchise, has ruined people’s ability to be honest about media. And while this isn’t a new problem, contrary to what some claim, I do think it’s gotten worse as the internet has become more of a mainstay. Videos that wouldn’t have been popular even 10 years ago are now mainstays for views and engagement thanks to algorithms promoting them over even-keeled analyses. It’s why so many videos complaining about Stranger Things, particularly its final season, exist versus those defending the show. Nostalgia, like anger, sells more than honesty, especially online.

What can be done? I don’t know. My words alone won’t fix anything, as I’m as guilty of looking to the past as anyone else. But I do think a re-framing of how we perceive engaging with art needs to happen. And it should happen soon. There’s only so much looking back we can do before the well runs dry permanently. That’s never a good sign, in other words.

So yes, nostalgia can be comforting, but also dangerous if not tempered with reality. The sooner we realize that, the better off we’ll be.