"Jews Will Not Replace Us!" Understanding BlacKkKlansman's Final Scene

BlacKkKlansman’s an interesting film. Despite centring around a black detective infiltrating The KKK in the 70’s, it throws shade on current politics in The US. It highlights how little progress we’ve made when it comes to bigotry, reminding us that director Spike Lee still has the magic decades after Do the Right Thing. While its Best Picture nomination was definitely contentious, due in-part to the liberties it takes with its story, I also think it has one of the greatest film endings in recent memory.

The scene begins with Ron Stallworth and Patrice Dumas, having reconciled their differences, hearing a knock on their apartment door. Nervous, the two of them grab their guns and open it. We watch as they’re “dolly zoomed” to a field. And in that field is a KKK cross burning, complete with haunting music by composer Terrence Blanchard. This alone is enough to make a statement: that racism didn’t die from Stallworth’s actions. If anything, it’s alive and kicking, getting stronger with each day. Stallworth might’ve won his particular battle, fooling The KKK in the process, but he’s yet to win the war. And a war is coming, as evidenced by a close-up of one of the hooded figures.

From here, we hear the chants of neo-Nazis, transitioning to the Charlottesville rally in 2017. We see a montage of white supremacists, their eyes blurred, shouting “Jews will not replace us!” while holding Tiki torches in the dead of night. We then witness the clash between them and Antifa, culminating in the death of Heather Heyer and Donald Trump’s “very fine people on both sides” speech. The movie ends with a memoriam image of Heyer, followed by an upside-down American flag.

There’s a lot to unpack, but I doubt it’s accidental that the cross burning and Charlottesville were linked. For one, the movie’s focus was on pulling the wool over David Duke’s eyes, and here was an older Duke with neo-Nazis. And two, it highlights how racism’s still alive in The US. If anything, it’s growing under the current administration. That alone is concerning.

This speaks to me as a Jew. Antisemitism takes many forms, some covert, but this kind’s pretty telling. This is the Jew-hatred that got Hitler elected. It’s the Jew-hatred that led to Jews being gassed. It’s also the Jew-hatred the world knew about, yet ignored. Yet here it is again, in full-swing, on American soil in the 21st Century.

We shouldn’t be too surprised, given The US’s history with racism. The country, after all, was founded on the backs of black slaves, and The Emancipation Proclamation didn’t automatically fix the damage done by that. The US still had The Jim Crow laws, which severely limited Black Americans, until the 1960’s, when blacks were finally able to vote. Even then, there was a reactionary backlash to that, one which persisted into the 1970’s.

Essentially, racism never disappeared, but merely morphed. And it’s important that we recognize this. It’s important because it shows how stubborn bigotry is, as well as how intersectional it is. The KKK might lay its groundwork on hating black people, but the Charlottesville protestors were shouting about Jews. They were shouting about the Jewish experience being one of assimilation, and how that “weakens” the white race.

There are other points that are worth appreciating. The most-obvious is the clash between Antifa and the neo-Nazis, and how intense it became. It’s not uncommon for even peaceful protests to have troublemakers, but this was a full-on clash. This was a fight between two versions of The US: the old-fashioned, nostalgic, racially-coded US, and the modern, forward-looking, racially-diverse US. It happened in the same city, and in The South. It also happened in a former-slave state, one routinely confronting its racist past. And it happened in a place where the past and the future are constantly butting heads.

Permeating this scene was Trump’s speech. Trump’s a mess on his own, but his words shown alongside chaos and carnage speaks volumes. He might’ve embellished the truth, but it didn’t matter: his message still came across. He routinely speaks to the bigot, dog-whistling with coded language, and it reaches its target audience. He sometimes isn’t even subtle about it, as evidenced by his attacks on Rashida Tlaib, Ilhan Omar, Ayanna Pressley and Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez. He speaks, and the bigots listen.

By showing Trump in this final scene, Lee’s making a statement. He’s shining a mirror in our faces, suggesting that we have a long way to go. He’s insisting that we not turn a blind eye to real injustices in our own backyards, as-sooner or later-it hurts all of us. Because remember, Heather Heyer was white. White supremacy starts with minorities, but in the end it always hurts white people.

That this is incredibly-disturbing only drives the point home. Witnessing that car run over that crowd of people is unpleasant to watch. Listening to that woman scream is harrowing. Hearing that Heyer didn’t survive the incident is agitating. This is all shocking stuff!

But it works! It highlights how effective cinematic storytelling is at getting people to think. If the theatre I was in was indication, then this is a moment that gets everyone to pay attention. It’s a moment that’s as much worth telling now as in the 70’s, when the majority of this film takes place. It’s the definitive movie moment of the Trump era. This is Spike Lee’s scenic masterpiece, even if it’s not necessarily his best film.

So yes, this movie was worthy of a Best Picture nomination. I don’t know if it was the best movie of 2018 to deal with racial tensions, that honour still belongs to The Hate U Give, but at least it got somewhere. At least it showed people were listening. That alone is why Lee still knows what he’s doing. And that alone encapsulates why BlacKkKlansman works so well.

Junk Drawer: Bond, Money and Widows

One, two, GO!

According to a rumour from The Daily Mail, the newest Bond movie has cast Lashana Lynch as 007. Though nothing has been confirmed, given that Daniel Craig is soon ending his tenure it’s possible that Lynch will be replacing him in this movie. And since Craig’s Bond has centred around death and heartbreak, as evidenced by Casino Royale and Skyfall ending bittersweetly, it’s not a stretch to suggest that his character could potentially die. Like many long-running properties, this could be yet another passing of the torch. And I, for one, am game!

Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. Ever since the announcement, there’s been a predictable, racist backlash on the internet. It shouldn’t be surprising, it’s the internet, but it’s tiring to listen to insecure men whine about their insecurities. And since responding to hot-button topics seems to net me strong viewership, I’m discussing it! Because screw my sanity!

I won’t deny that nerds can be overly-obnoxious whiners when it comes to change. If you want proof, read how they responded to Tifa’s redesign in the remake of Final Fantasy 7. But James Bond’s unusual because his franchise was built on colonialist misogyny. Not only would Bond be a Me Too predator if he were real, but he’d also be everything wrong with white imperialism. Everything about him, including how he demeans colleagues, screams it. So his personality remaining constant, despite casting changes since the 60’s, indicates how outdated he is.

I’d be fine with a black woman taking over the 007 role. For one, it’d be different. And two, it’d change the franchise in a slightly positive way. Granted, I doubt having a black, female Bond doing the same stuff a white, male Bond does would suddenly excuse bad behaviour. But it’d at least be a step in the right direction.

Personally, the healthiest decision is retiring the character. I wrote a piece last year discussing why James Bond’s a terrible role model, and I still hold that now. Considering the damage he’s done since 1962, I doubt it’s good to have a backward, archaic stereotype still exist. But since he’s a huge money-maker for MGM, and since he’s incredibly-popular, I guess revamping his character’s more realistic. Even if that means pissing off nerds who think non-cis white males in entertainment is “making a political statement”.

One of the big conversations right now is the box-office of The Avengers: Endgame. The film has almost neared $3 billion in worldwide sales, making it the second-highest grossing movie ever. That’s pretty impressive, but people are also praying for it to beat Avatar and become the “king of movies”, or some nonsense like that. I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I know that the world has an irrational hate-boner for Avatar, so I’ll focus on why this pissing match is ridiculous. Because it is, especially since Disney owns both properties. By having this contest, you’re praising Disney to slight Disney. Does that really make sense?

Disney has many problems. It’s a corporate entity that’s absorbing everything and laying off grunt workers. Much of its staff get paid non-liveable wages. It has a stranglehold on copyright law because of Mickey Mouse. And it hides all of that under a veil of obnoxious, performative wokeness. This doesn’t mean that I don’t like Disney’s output, I enjoy much of it, but the above’s still true.

By giving money to Disney under the guise of one movie beating another, you’re not fixing those problems. Instead, you’re giving money to a corporation that isn’t addressing any of them. Does this mean you can’t see The Avengers: Endgame a third time in theatres? No! But don’t go making this a game of “let’s beat Avatar”, not when Disney owns it too.

Besides, I doubt Disney or James Cameron really care that The Avengers: Endgame is selling like hotcakes. Cameron’s already making 3 sequels to Avatar, possibly more if the cards align. Knowing his track-record, he’ll probably out-gross The Avengers: Endgame and make everyone start the war all-over. And then Marvel will out-gross him with their next Avengers movie. And then Cameron will-you see what I’m getting at?

Above all, it’s Disney that benefits most from this. You can enjoy their output, but don’t make this into a war. Be grateful the movie entertained you. Be grateful that it was worth the overpriced ticket cost, and be grateful that you had 3 hours of fun. Most of all, be grateful you have time to enjoy these movies before we’re all screwed by climate change.

Scarlett Johansson’s been digging a hole lately, right? First, she played Major Kusanagi in the live-action adaptation of Ghost in the Shell. Then she was cast as a trans individual in an upcoming biopic, a role she backed out of after pressure. Now she’s come out and-wait, what? SHE SAID WHAT?!

In a recent interview, Johansson lamented about “PC culture” in Hollywood, stating that she, and I quote, “be allowed to play any person, or any tree, or any animal” if her job requires it. She later stated that that was taken out of context, but even saying that jokingly is a head-scratcher. What does that even mean? What planet am I on? Who are you people, and can I really trust you?

I’d rather not be “one of those people”. I don’t want to shamelessly trash Johansson’s acting because of that statement, true or not. It’s the coward’s way out, and she deserves better. But I’m unhappy that an A-list celebrity would say something so tone-deaf in response to legitimate criticism.

It doesn’t help that trans talent routinely gets the raw deal when it comes to casting. Without going into too much detail, trans men and women are routinely treated as jokes, victims, or both. Whenever their stories are told, it’s usually with cis actors and actresses, culminating in a loss of work. This further leads to stereotypes that incite violence and discrimination, which, in turn, leads to deaths. It’s sad, scary and cyclical.

By making the above statement, Johansson’s made it clear that she doesn’t care about trans people. She’s made it clear that she values money more than what’s right, even at the expense of her image. But, most-importantly, she’s made it clear that she’s transphobic. And that saddens me.

I wish she had more courtesy than that. I really do. But she doesn’t, and it’s frustrating. The trans community has enough on their plate without her nonsense as is. And given how she’s been criticized for having incredibly-limited range, it’s also not helping her case.

Yes, acting’s all about imitation. I get that. But life’s messy and imperfect, too. Until minorities have the same acting opportunities as the default, playing a minority is a form of theft. It’s legal, but it’s theft. And that’s that not okay.

That about it does for now. I’ll see you all next time.

In Defence of Computer Animation

Stop me if you’ve heard this before:

“Traditional animation is dead! It’s all computers these days! Computer-generated animation will never top that of the 90’s and early-2000’s! I’m a wiener dog with three heads and five butts! Woof!”

I may have fabricated those last two points. But the general sentiment is one I’ve heard routinely: traditional animation was amazing, and CGI animation can never top it. I won’t discredit the former, as, in many ways, I agree. But I think saying, “traditional = good, CGI = bad” is dishonest and unfair.

Let’s back up a bit: despite being ubiquitous now, there was a time when computer animation, let-alone computer-anything, was non-existent. For decades, filmmakers made due with no computers. They had to work with the tools they had, and they did; in fact, some of the most-memorable scenes in film were done with miniatures, fake props, trick photography and stop-motion animation. Even with traditional animation, which evolved alongside the medium, crafters had to use techniques like rotoscoping and layering to make their work feel lived-in and real. The results speak for themselves.

It wasn’t until the late-70’s and early-80’s that CGI was regularly used in filmmaking, thanks to the rise of computer technology. And while this’d remain on the sidelines at first, it was with Toy Story that everyone saw what CGI animation could do. It looks fake now, true, but the attention to detail in Toy Story won John Lasseter an Honorary Oscar at the 1996 Academy Awards. Toy Story revolutionized animation almost single-handedly.

And filmmakers took note. Beginning in 1998, following the Antz/A Bug’s Life war, it became obvious that CGI animation wasn’t a one-trick pony. It was here to stay, demonstrated by the increasing number of CGI ventures and their returns at the box-office. Audiences were eating up the possibilities of CGI animation! Yet with that came the downside of traditional animation falling to the wayside, to the point where it almost seemed to vanish.

There was a period where Disney tried reviving traditional animation. Between 2009 and 2011, Disney released The Princess and the Frog and Winnie-the-Pooh in-between computer-generated films every alternating year. But that was short-lived, with Disney shutting down their traditional animation division in 2013. It’s a shame because, despite loving Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, I enjoyed Winnie-the-Pooh and think it could’ve been a hit had it not been released when it was. But it flopped financially, and we haven’t seen another mainstream, traditionally animated venture from Hollywood in 8 years.

Why do I mention this? For two reasons. First, to give context to people’s frustrations. And second, to help explain how everything progressed. But outside of that, I think people are overreacting when they say that traditional animation’s better than CGI animation. They’re different, and one’s not inherently better.

Besides, like Sage Hyden mentioned in one of his Just Write videos, there’s a certain restrictiveness that comes with traditional animation. For all its brilliance, traditional animation limits its camera. Most of its shots are drawn on a flat plane, with curvature and depth of field relegated to trick photography. Even with 90’s animation being helped by computer rendering, there’s still an element of straining that goes on for more complex moments. All you need to do is look at a 90’s Disney pan or swerve-shot.

CGI animation doesn’t have that limitation. Whereas traditional animation’s restricted, CGI animation embraces the horizons. There are so many camera techniques that are only possible with it, and the storytelling possibilities are more diverse. And even within CGI, there’s a spectrum: you can go the Pixar “photorealism” route, or the Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse route of super-stylization. Traditional animation doesn’t quite have that range.

Also, and this needs stressing, CGI’s much cheaper than traditional animation. In days of yore, animators would spend hours drawing single frames, and the budgets would swell. With CGI, however, most of that work’s done with computers, freeing up time to do more with the movie. It might look “cleaner” than traditional animation, but it’s a trade-off. It also saves money to use, by the way.

I’m not saying traditional animation should disappear forever. I wish it’d make a comeback in some form in The West. I’m also not denying that a lot of CGI movies are badly-written messes, because many are. But claiming there wasn’t a lot of garbage back in the day is being selective with nostalgia. Because there was a lot of bad, traditional animation!

I’d like both forms to be respected for what they are. Traditional animation, being the older format, should be respected for its long list of innovations, and even how it continues to push the envelope now. And CGI animation, being younger, should have room to innovate and break boundaries, which it’s definitely been doing. And yeah, they can even intersect! Why not?

But to write-off CGI animation as “inferior” is dishonest. It’s not, it’s different. It serves different goals, and it charts different waters. To claim otherwise is ignorance, and no one wants that!

An Ode to The MCU

11 years.

It’s hard to believe that, a little over 11 years ago, Marvel, now a multi-billion dollar subsidiary of Disney, threw everything they had into Iron Man so as to escape bankruptcy. It’s hard to believe that, a little over 11 years ago, no one thought a cinematic comic book universe was even possible. It’s also hard to believe that The MCU not only passed its initiation, but has lasted 11 years.

I’m running late on The MCU reflection train; after all, the franchise celebrated its first decade last year. But I don’t really care. Spider-Man: Far From Home debuted a few days ago, and since it was the perfect epilogue to Iron Man, I figured I’d discuss its impact. As in, personally. As in, complete with my own history.

Now, I’m a big MCU fan, given my posts. But I wasn’t always. The franchise grew on me, slowly. And at times it was rough and unsteady, as evidenced by me being burned out from Thor: The Dark World. It wasn’t until Captain America: The Winter Soldier that I was sold, and even then not-fully. My official fandom came later.

A lot’s changed in 11 years. Globally, the world has gotten more complicated. The US has had a presidential change twice. We’ve seen a resurgence of right-wing populism, a rebirth of fascism and a de-stability of global powers. We’ve seen a rise in global temperatures, a greater gap between the rich and the poor and the effects of war on foreign policy. And we’ve seen people mobilize in great numbers and attempt to keep world leaders accountable.

Personally, I’ve had a lot of changes as well. I graduated high school and university, and have bounced back-and-forth between jobs. My writing’s gotten stronger. My family situation has changed, with me now being an uncle. And my outlook on life has gotten more complex.

I think this is part of why my appreciation of The MCU has gotten stronger. Like me, the franchise has changed and morphed to meet the times. In its early stages, it was about setting the groundwork. In its middle stages, it was about experimentation. Now it’s about doing whatever it pleases, which it’s definitely earned.

The MCU has also gone to interesting places. Iron Man 3 delved into Tony Stark’s mind, showing his vulnerability. Captain America: The Winter Soldier delved into political espionage, showing how evil mutates to fit the times. The Guardians of the Galaxy films delved into family dynamics, leading to emotionally-resonant moments. Even the big cross-over movies, the Avengers films, became more complex, challenging what it meant to be a team of superheroes.

We’ve also seen Hollywood take cues from these movies. Prior to The MCU, the idea of a shared universe was kept to C-list franchises. But post success, this was no longer so farfetched. Studios started following the formula, missing why The MCU worked so well. They wanted the results with none of the work, much to their demise. It’s been copious and frustrating to witness.

Do I think The MCU’s impervious? Do I think it’ll last forever? I don’t know the answer to either question. All I know is that it’s made it this far, and that it has a long road ahead. A road filled with obstacles and potential, both of which it needs to tackle head-on. Will it succeed? It’s uncertain, but it should still try. That’s the only way to know.

What makes The MCU function so well is that it understands why people watch its movies. The films are about characters first, continuity second. That alone puts the franchise above the competition. It’s also why I think that the franchise’s naysayers, both critical and casual, don’t appreciate why The MCU works. It makes responding to the complaints that much more tedious.

Where next? I don’t know. The movies have already retired some of their old cast, leaving room for new ones. Perhaps some more time-travel is in order? Maybe dimension-hopping? Perhaps even genre mash-ups? The options are endless, especially since The MCU has opened its doors for so many avenues. Even the options for casting and diversity are on the table.

Will I be able to enjoy The MCU for as long as it exists? Again, I don’t know. So much had to align for me to appreciate its first 11 years, but the future is uncertain. There’s a lot I don’t know about that lies ahead, and some of that could change how I consume these movies in the future. For now, I’ll take it one step at a time. It’s easier that way, if we’re being honest.

So yeah, 11 years. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? If anything’s for certain, here’s to 11 years more…whatever those 11 years may bring. Let’s hope that they’re positive.

D'oh Canada!

I’m a practicing Jew. I eat strictly-Kosher food, I pray at least twice daily, I keep Shabbat and I routinely study my religious texts. But more than anything, I’ve worn a head-covering, or yarmulke, for the last 13 years. And it’s the latter that makes me a visibly noticeable minority, as I’d be nothing more than “another white guy” without it.

I mention this because of a controversial law that passed in Québec parliament this Spring. Said law, known as Bill-21, has been dubbed “The Secularism Law”, and it curtails any active displays of religion in the public sector. In other words, if you want to become a teacher, lawyer, doctor, police officer, firefighter, or any other public worker, you can’t wear your religion in public. And yes, it’s being strictly-enforced. Isn’t politics fun?

This bill is highly-discriminatory and will be challenged in Canada’s Supreme Court. But it shows how far we have to go, despite Canada touting itself as “tolerant toward minorities”. Because this law wasn’t forged overnight: The Coalition Avenir Québec, or CAQ, might’ve proposed it, but some variant has been floating around under previous governments. The only difference is that it passed, due to The CAQ being the current party in power. That it was even proposed at all shows how discrimination still exists.

Outside of that, my issue with Bill-21 is deeply seated. You know how I started this piece off by mentioning that I’m a practicing Jew? It’s to show where I stand. I might’ve “chosen” to practice Judaism, but it’s a protected right under The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Like Freedom of Expression, I’m allowed to wear my yarmulke in a public space and practice my Judaism openly. So long as I’m not hurting anyone, is that really so bad?

Bill-21 makes me uncomfortable. It lessens my desire to visit Québec, and it causes me immediate concern for my Jewish brethren there, religious and non-religious alike. It also causes me concern for non-Jewish minorities who are outwardly religious, like Sikhs and Muslims, as they too are now being forced to remove their garments in public. And why should anyone have to hide their identity over some law that’s rooted in a flawed understanding of secularism?

This also highlights how non-secular Québec is. If Québec’s so insistent in scrubbing all traces of religion from public spaces, then why does the French rendition of “O Canada” allude to the cross? If Québec wants to streamline its identity, then why’s there a law that advocates for larger French writing than English writing? If Québec wants to be “secular”, then shouldn’t they be advocating for true tolerance toward all minorities?

Don’t think this is only about head-coverings. You can’t wear religious-themed jewellery either. No necklaces with a Star of David or a cross on them. No rings or bracelets with religious lettering. None of that’s allowed under Bill-21. Even if you’re not religious, why shouldn’t you be allowed to express your identity?

I don’t see this boding well for Québec. For one, this’ll prompt another mass-migration of Jews to neighbouring provinces, not unlike what happened in the 1970’s-1980’s. But on a wider level, this is a huge slap in the face to what Canada purports to stand for. We’re The US’s friendlier, more-tolerant neighbour to the north. We’ve built the past 30+ years of our existence on immigration, a literal mosaic of faiths. Multiculturalism’s our identity. So why should we throw that out in favour of a law that claims to be “progressive”?

This also highlights how fragile Canada’s tolerance really is. Remember when Faith Goldy ran for Toronto mayor, only to end up in third-place? Remember when Stephen Harper brought the issue of Muslim head-coverings to The Supreme Court of Canada? Remember when Maxime Bernier made a claim about how there was too much immigration? These all actually happened!

Essentially, Canada has a long way to go before it can truly boast tolerance toward minorities. It’s done a lot so far, don’t get me wrong, but it needs constant pruning of that tolerance. It needs to constantly work at its multiculturalism, even when it’s hard. By having The CAQ pass a law like Bill-21, all that work is actively spat on. And this saddens me.

Ultimately, I’m worried about the long-term ramifications. Like every other law, Bill-21 isn’t really about Bill-21. The law’s effects won’t stop at public downplays of religion, it never does. And given how it’s being so heavily-enforced, I worry that it’ll cause further discrimination in the workforce. Because that’s what usually happens.

I get it: religion’s touchy. So many bad events in history have been carried out in its name. And yes, there should be limits to religious practice before it hurts others. But a religious ban in the name of “secularism” isn’t the answer. That’s not what secularism means.

Lastly, since I know Bill-21 has supporters, I have to ask: what does this accomplish? Do people think this law will work? Do people not realize that it’ll be challenged? It’s not like Bill-21 won’t be met with resistance, because it will. If that worries you more than the damage this law’s causing, then you’re part of the problem.

On Difficulty in Video Games...

10 years ago, I wrote an angry rant on ScrewAttack about gaming difficulty. To say it was poorly-received is an understatement. To say the backlash scarred me is an even bigger understatement. Yet I’ve been meaning to re-write that rant for years, being held back by life and my inability to say anything. Since the urge hasn’t dissipated, I guess it’s only fair to write it now.

I’m sure this is no surprise by now, but I’m not good at video games. I’m, honestly, quite terrible at them. Part of that’s because of my learning disability, and part is because I struggle with everything. And while my struggle with gaming varies, that struggling part remains consistent.

I mention this because gamers can be pretty gatekeeper-like. GamerGate, for example, was about keeping games out of the hands of women and “casuals”, despite what you may have heard. But long before that, video games fitting a specific challenge level had been floating around as an idea for decades. It was propagated when I was young, it flourished when I was a teenager, and it finally reached a head as an adult. Even now, 10 years later, the idea that “all games have to be hard” is one that persists. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

It’s always bothered me, too. Why does every video game need to be challenging? Video games aren’t a science, they don’t have to conform to one difficulty. Some games, like the Ninja Gaiden series, might revel in challenge, but others don’t. And there’s a spectrum to challenge in video games, with many varying depending on their objectives.

I know some of you aren’t convinced, and I get it: why would I play a game that isn’t testing me? Why wouldn’t I want to exert that effort? Isn’t half of the reward knowing I’ve persisted? Well, yes…but difficulty’s also subjective. What might be easy for you will probably be difficult for someone else. I should know, I find every video game challenging!

The complaint about every video game these days being “too easy” is based in a lie. There are games out there that are still really challenging. But the claim’s also based in a misunderstanding of older games. You know those classics that gamers always tout as being “incredibly hard”? Most were based on the video game arcade model: they were short, and they were designed to eat quarters. A good arcade game can’t be a cakewalk, it’d disguise its limitations, so it was forced to be difficult. Early console games, therefore, followed suit.

This approach doesn’t work anymore, as video games are big spectacles now. They have in-depth worlds filled with lore, so designing challenge around limitations is no longer feasible. But even if it were, would you want that? You can beat a classic video game in less than a half an hour, assuming you know what you’re doing. The same can’t be said now.

Besides, so many early video games don’t hold up anymore. Remember how I said that older games were short because of their technical limitations? A lot of those limitations also impede their playability now. The Legend of Zelda and Metroid, both ground-breaking in their heyday, have been called “virtually unplayable” because of how unfriendly they are to newcomers. Super Mario 64, one of the most-influential games of the 3D era, is touted as having a similar problem. We can debate this forever, but that doesn’t make the complaints disappear.

I’d much rather a game be “easy” and fun than hard and unenjoyable. So many difficult games push me to my limit and make it hard for me to enjoy them, hence I stop playing them once I beat them (if at all). Conversely, many breezy games, like Yoshi’s Story, I find myself routinely returning to, as their lack of challenge is what makes them welcoming. I know it varies from person-to-person, but for me this approach works!

I think gamers need to stop touting a “perfect difficulty”. I remember that term once being tossed out as a response to my rant, and I strongly disagree. I don’t think a “perfect difficulty” exists. It’s way too subjective, as everyone’s different. What works for one person may not work for another, and that’s okay.

Another claim that needs to be phased-out? “Holding the gamer’s hand.” This gets thrown around a lot now, and it’s misleading. For one, video games are more complex than they used to be, introducing mechanics that weren’t possible in the 80’s and early-90’s. And two, gamers are a bigger group than they used to be. When you factor in both points, it’s inevitable that more information would be needed for new games.

Finally, complaining that gamers “use cheat codes” and “online hints” to help beat modern games is hypocritical. This existed in The NES days too, let’s not kid ourselves! I remember the Game Genie, and how I’d play around with it to get different results. I also remember Nintendo Power, and how that’d give hints and tricks for games you couldn’t beat otherwise. Online might be more readily-available now, but don’t think you can get away with lying about the past!

If it sounds like I’m all-over the place, it’s because I want to be thorough. Yes, a game should be challenging to an extent. Yes, old games were notorious for being hard. But no, that doesn’t mean every game has to follow a uniform standard of difficulty. Insisting that they should is classic gatekeeping, and it makes you sound old. And no one wants that!

Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door Review

On July 5th, 2016, I posted my review of Paper Mario on Infinite Rainy Day. Toward the end of it, I mentioned the following:

“Fans can argue as to whether or not this is a true successor to Super Mario RPG, or even if this game’s sequel is superior, but for my buck you can’t go wrong.”

Having offically played through Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, I can verify that claim. But for now, I want to discuss this sequel and see if it’s the masterpiece many exposit.

Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door begins the same way as its predecessor: with a Lakitu delivering mail to Mario and Luigi. Princess Peach has again invited Mario to visit her, this time in a place called Rogueport. She’s left him a mysterious-looking map in this letter, suggesting it might lead to treasure. Sadly, Mario arrives at Rogueport to not only discover that Peach has gone missing again, but that a group known as The X-Nauts are trying to resurrect an ancient evil. Together with his map, an archeology student named Gombella and an elderly professor, it’s up to Mario to stop these X-Nauts and rescue Princess Peach yet again!

In my review of Paper Mario, I threw shade at the franchise’s willful refusal to craft a compelling narrative. This still holds true. The game does fill in the cracks with fascinating lore and character interactions, but that doesn’t compensate for the lack of a meaningful narrative. Like the title itself suggests, this game’s story’s paper-thin. So don’t go looking for too much.

Fortunately, like its predecessor, story isn’t the focus. The mechanics and presentation are. Like Paper Mario, the game utilizes a paper-like aesthetic, even taking it to an extreme. The game also brings back the battle mechanics, this time changing them from a movie reel to interactive theatre. This means that not only do you battle opponents, you also have to appease your audience. This allows for an additional layer of strategizing.

And give it credit: the game looks and plays beautifully! The paper aesthetic not only holds up visually, but it’s so well-matched to gameplay and controls that it’s easy to pick-up-and-play. It all goes to show that when it comes to turn-based RPGS, which are known for being complex, simplicity’s key. Bless it for that!

Musically, the game’s pretty solid. Like its predecessor, Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door utilizes memorable tracks that it loops constantly. The tunes repeat over and over, yet never feel boring to listen to. I’m not sure if it’s because they fit their locations, but I never once got tired of them. And I spent a long time with this game!

So yes, I dug this game. But that begs the question I posed earlier: is it better than its predecessor?

Well, no, for three reasons. For one, the game has copious amounts of backtracking, particularly in later sections. This is most-apparent in Chapter 7, where Mario revisits places he’s already been to for an in-game objective. It feels like shameless padding for an otherwise short game. The game also has minor side-objectives that should feel unnecessary to beat the game, but indirectly punish you for not doing them. Try beating the final boss without first double levelling-up your party members, for example. It’s not quite as fun.

Speaking of, the final boss is a three-part battle that succeeds a two-part battle. It’s unbelievably difficult, as the boss has an unfair amount of health. I’m not sure who decided to make the fight this hard, but I’m unimpressed. Even the final battle in Paper Mario, which wasn’t a cakewalk, was more reasonable than this! What gives?

Finally, the Bowser levels are really repetitive and annoying. They take inspiration from the original NES Mario games, hence they’re side-scrollers. They’re cute at first…until you realize that there are three of them. And while not terribly long, that doesn’t make them any less-frustrating.

There are also minor annoyances that lessen the experience: the game still doesn’t let you exit to the title screen. You still need to pay to replenish health. Your Star Power’s dependent on how entertained your audience is. In-battle stage hazards are frequent and annoying. And the audience themselves are often irritating, occasionally throwing damage-inducing items at you. That last one isn’t too bad, but every-so-often it can be hard to see a hazard incoming.

That’s not to diminish from the improvements, because there definitely are several: the game allows you to level grind with worlds and enemies you’ve already beaten. The Crystal Stars have far better powers than the Stars from the previous game. There are more side-quests. And the game has actual content post-final boss, including a masochistic challenge known as The Pit of 1000 Trials. All of this is a welcomed upgrade from the game’s direct predecessor.

Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door isn’t better than its predecessor, unfortunately. It takes one too many over-ambitious risks that don’t pay off. But what it does well, it does exceptionally! Perhaps even, dare I say it, better than its predecessor! So while I don’t like it as much as Paper Mario, I still really like it. And who knows? You might end up liking it too!