Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception

I’m not typically one for hyperbole – so recognizing that, realize that when I say Uncharted 3: Drake’s Deception is the greatest game yet released on the PS3 platform, you may take me at my word. It redefines what an action-adventure game can be, it raises the bar of current-gen graphical detail and it features a Hollywood-quality script and story with believable characters that you end up missing by the time your gaming experience is finished. It is a truly unforgettable experience and well-deserving of my first ‘Golden Bacon’ award.

Full disclosure here – prior to Uncharted 3, my favourite PS3 game was Uncharted 2, so I may be a bit biased from the outset, but that being said, everything that I loved about the second game gets ratcheted up just that much more in the third one. Knowing this, if you have played the first two, you pretty much know what to expect in this one. The story starts out with Drake and Sully in a seedy bar in downtown London and then proceeds to span the globe. You’ll get to see the origin of Drake and Sully’s relationship as well as running in to familiar characters like Chloe and Elena. Naughty Dog really seems to revel in the world they’ve built and by populating it with memorable characters, you can’t help but get caught up in the story – so when something bad happens to a character, you find yourself drawn in just that much more. The story is top-shelf, but far too often a decent script can be undercut by poor voice-acting (seriously, some of the voice-acting in Deus Ex: Human Revolution was laughable). Thankfully, that’s not the case here, as the returning cast lends weight and emotion to the more difficult moments, as well as a breeziness and brevity when things are more light-hearted. By keeping the same stable of actors, Naughty Dog has managed to not only keep a sense of continuity, but by this point in the series, all of the actors understand their characters inherently – which enables them to add just that much more depth to their performances.

The gameplay will be instantly familiar to fans of the series. New to the dance this time around is an all-new brawling mechanic (which is cleverly put to the test in the very first sequence) which seems to take a page out of Rocksteady’s Arkham Asylum/City playbook (replete with counter-attacks and environment-based finishers). The best moments in the game come in the form of scripted events that Naughty Dog has to be almost famous for by this point. There are more in this game than in the first two combined, but it always feels fluid and never tacky – it really adds to the whole action-film aesthetic that the game is trying to convey. A few of these sequences simply need to be seen to be believed. About 1/3 in to the game, there’s a scene that takes place in a burning French chateau. As well, there’s a scene that takes place in a capsizing ocean liner (like remake of The Poseidon Adventure except.. well.. it doesn’t suck) and near the end of the game there’s a sequence involving an airplane that is positively jaw-dropping. As you’re playing, you know they’re scripted, but it doesn’t affect the sense of awe because you still have control of Drake, so you still feel like you're driving the action.

The level of graphical detail in this game is otherworldly. From the crisp textures and gorgeously-modeled (and colourful!) environments to the fluid motion-capture, Naughty Dog really put the PS3 through its paces and in the process, set a new high-watermark for current-gen graphical clarity. The animation, in particular, deserves an extra mention here as it’s not as jaw-droppingly awe-inspiring as the panoramas and vistas you fight your way through, but just as important in a much more subtle way. Little things such as Drake throwing his arms up to brace himself as he rounds a corner too fast, or how he will run his hand along the wall of a darkened corridor, or how he stumbles in the desert – subtle, to be sure, but again they add to the polish of the overall package and really helps you suspend disbelief.

Now, in spite of my incessant raving to this point, know that this game is not perfect. As I mentioned previously, the gun-combat mechanic still faces the same issues it has from the start of the series (floaty controls, at-times inaccurate damage modelling) and I experienced a few glitches during my playtime that were as ridiculous as they were frustrating (somehow Drake teleported through the parapet of a castle and plummeted to his doom in a grey void at one point – and in another, he fell through a piano while aboard the ocean liner, into the sea, where he ended up drowning). These are not deal-breakers by any stretch of the imagination, rather they just slightly tarnish the sheen of an otherwise impeccably-polished masterpiece. Think of these issues as the bird shit that you have to wipe off your brand new Porsche.

I haven’t even touched on the multiplayer – which boasts full co-op missions designed to flesh out the story as well as the team-based and free-for-all modes that were featured when they first added multiplayer to Uncharted 2. Truth be told, I’ve barely touched them because I’ve been too busy powering through the single-player campaign. But even their mere presence just goes to show that Naughty Dog is providing full value to the consumer here.

Uncharted 3: Drake’s Deception is more than a video game. The level-design is top-notch, the graphics are phenomenal, the voice acting is superlative and the gameplay is tried-and-true. It is a gaming experience like no other and is a game that demands to be played if you own a PS3. Naughty Dog hit this one out of the park and I sincerely cannot wait for their next at-bat.

Geek Score:

10 out of 10 bacon strips (Golden Bacon Award)


What I’m Reading: Unwritten: Volume 3 by Mike Carey & Peter Gross

What I’m Playing: Elder Scrolls vol. 5: Skyrim for 360

Deus Ex: Human Revolution

Deus Ex: Human Revolution had a lot to live up to. As a prequel to one of the most lauded PC games of all-time, it had try to maintain the open-world aspects of the original while simultaneously eliminating the perceived ‘dumbing down’ that the sequel (Invisible War) suffered from. It managed to succeed on both counts. Human Revolution is a great game and more than worthy of its place in Deus Ex canon.

The game starts out with a prologue featuring the protagonist, Adam Jensen, head of security at Sarif Industries (which, like many other things in the game is a name you may recognize if you were a fan of the original). You are introduced to the basic gameplay (moving, shooting, sneaking) and a few of the key characters. And then the story really starts to take off. In the year 2027, human augmentation (something which is commonplace in the original and its sequel) is still in the experimental stage. Doctors and biotechnology firms (like Sarif Industries itself) routinely come under fire for a perceived recklessness and dismissal of the human condition. Do we have the power to play God? Is it simply part of human nature to strive to better ourselves through technology? These are the sorts of questions that Human Revolution asks. This isn’t Gears of War with simplistic, macho one-liners and copious grunting. Like other games in the series, as the story moves forward, conspiracies and double-crosses become commonplace, but it never seems to stray too far (perhaps helped by the fact that the game is a prequel to an established storyline, thereby forcibly reigning itself in). Like most great Sci-Fi Noir (a la Blade Runner), it’s a story that has depth on the surface, but the more you put into it (by reading personal logs or various newspaper articles to flesh out the world) , the more you are rewarded.

As far as the gameplay goes, it’s sufficiently open-ended. Like many modern-day ‘sandbox’-style games, you find yourself with a ‘hub’ city which connects several missions throughout each city. No mission shoehorns you into completing it a certain way (though some offer bonuses for doing so – for instance, if you can sneak through an enemy gang hideout without being seen, you’ll be paid more). If you want to roll hard with heavy weapons and concussion grenades, go ahead. If you want to slyly eke your way past the guards, pausing every once in a while to knock a few guys unconscious and hide the bodies in lockers (Solid Snake style!), you can feel free to do that as well. If you want to eschew both ‘action-oriented’ manners and try and find a way to use tech savvy (by hacking turrets and turning them on your opponents, for instance) you are free to do that as well. The success you have in your chosen manner of dealing with these missions will depend on how you spend your experience points. As you level up, you acquire ‘praxis points’, which enable you to purchase augmentation enhancements which do different things such as enable you to run silently, take more damage, see through walls, etc. By the end of the game your character will be sufficiently powered to take any path you choose, but in the game’s gestation period you really have to cater your selections to the type of character you are interested in playing.

One of the biggest strengths is the way the game makes you feel invested in the world - as if your actions have real consequences. How quickly (or slowly, as the case may be) you complete certain objectives actually has a bearing on how the game plays out. I found this out the hard way as I purposely delayed starting an early mission so that I could wander around Sarif's offices, turning over every desk and looking for goodies - standard RPG fodder - and then I arrived to find the mission objectives had changed considerably owing to my delay. Things like this really serve to bring you into the story.

It's not all wine and roses, however, as Deus Ex has a few issues that are worth mentioning. At times it seems like the game steers you towards a certain gameplay path and for a game that prides itself so heavily on the freedom of choice, it can come across feeling a little constrictive. In addition, there are four separate boss fights which can be *extremely* frustrating for certain character builds. A better option would've been to eschew the boss fights altogether, or at least make them workable - a game like Fallout has shown that you can have a great RPG without making boss-fights a necessity.

I’ve always held that the real mark of a good single-player game is whether I find myself with any inkling to play through again after completing the main story. With Deus Ex, I finished it four times (so as to complete the four separate – and quite disparate – endings). It’s a marked improvement on the somewhat-flawed sequel, Invisible War, but still falls just short of the incredible heights of the original Deus Ex. Deus Ex: Human Revolution is a worthwhile addition to Deus Ex canon and well worth the price of admission for fans of the series or sci-fi fans in general.

Geek Score: 8 out of 10 bacon strips

What I’m Reading: Green Lantern (The New 52) – Geoff Johns

What I’m Playing: Batman: Arkham City for 360

On The Occasion of the Anniversary of my 32nd Year

32 years ago today, I was born in Vancouver General Hospital, after what I've been told was a long and painful labour. I was in no hurry, apparently. It's good to see some things haven't changed.

Birthdays are funny things.

They're so arbitrary, for one. If you think about it, we're 'always' aging. It's not as if all of a sudden on this one magical day your body gets 365 days' worth of wrinkles or loses 365 days' worth of hair (Curse you, Male Pattern Baldness!).

I think the main purpose of a birthday (aside from presents and cake, obviously) is personal reflection. When we're younger we tend to look ahead (ie. "Only five more years until I can legally drink!", "Only two more years until college!" etc.) but as we grow older the parabola warps and all of a sudden we find ourselves looking back more ("Man, I totally would've hit that if I were ten years younger" or "I once drank 18 beers in one night - if I tried that now, I'd literally die."). By the time you reach the end of the line, almost the entire process is spent looking back - I can't imagine one's 90th birthday is spent looking ahead to the 91st.

I tend to get maudlin as my birthday approaches. I don't handle growing older with particular aplomb, I'll admit that. I've been making jokes as of late regarding how I'm 'so old' and can 'feel the darkness approaching'. Some of that is just bullshit, certainly, but a lot of it was rooted in the very real fear that I'm now firmly entrenched in the middle third of my lifespan. Any illusions I had that I was still a 'young adult' have been thrown right out the window. I have a wife now. Bills, car insurance, I'm saving to buy a condo for cripe's sake. I can't just torch off half my paycheque at the arcade (though sometimes I'd love to). My life is changing ... and I don't handle change particularly well.

What seems like years ago now, I was stuck in a rut the size of the Marianas Trench. I was happy, I guess, but I didn't have much purpose. I was delivering pizzas for a living. Honest work, sure, but I'm pretty sure there's a picture of the Pizza Hut guy on Wikipedia on the page for 'Dead End Jobs'. I needed a jolt from a friend of mine, who told me to leave my McJob, get off my ass and come work with him. I did and because I was fortunate enough to have dominoes fall the right way, I've now got a good job that pays reasonably well, with people I like. Never underestimate the potential value of job satisfaction.

A few weeks ago, I needed another kick in the pants - but the aforementioned friend has now moved halfway across the country (*sob*), so I had to do it myself (Don't ask *how* I managed to kick myself in the ass - I'm fairly certain I pulled something and I don't want to talk about it). I had ballooned a bit and weighed more than I had ever weighed before, I loped around the apartment like a three-toed sloth, I was grumpy and almost completely inactive. The closest I came to exercise was picking my SixAxis controller off the entertainment center. I wasn't happy. So I decided to make a change. I promptly (and without warning - so much so that I shocked my wife when I announced it) cut out soda and fast food and started playing basketball again. My thought process was thus: My main issue with 'exercise' was that it too often felt like work. Why would I want to do that on my time off? But if you're playing a sport (like basketball, say, or tennis), you're getting exercise, it's fun, plus you can bet on all sorts of different things (Everything Is More Fun When You Gamble). So far the results have been both obvious (I'm a little slimmer and have more energy) and *not* so obvious (I have more money in my pocket - seriously, who knew I was spending so much on Coca-Cola?). Originally, I thought it might mark the onset of an early-midlife crisis, this weird obsession to pick up a basketball again. In truth, however, my birthday was used as a rallying point. I wanted to do some maintenance before the calendar rolled over. Like a New Year's Resolution, but hopefully not with the same outcome (abandoned by February - or in my case, September).

I think it's safe to say that my life at 32 isn't what I envisioned it to be when I was twenty or even twenty-five. That's not to say that's a bad thing. I have a decent job, a wife, a novel on-the-go, two cats and a savings account (with money in it and everything!).

32 is a tough number to get a handle on. It's divisible by four, which is notoriously bad luck in Chinese culture, but it's also divisible by eight, which is tremendously *good* luck in that same culture. It's an even number, but since it doesn't have a '0' on the end, it somehow feels less milestone-y (is that a word? Well it is now.).

They say you're only as old as you feel. Well, today I feel 32. And I guess I'm all right with that.

What I'm Reading: Batman - Hush

What I'm Playing: Infamous 2 for PS3

Crazy, Stupid, Love

Crazy, Stupid, Love is unique in the realm of romantic comedies in that it doesn’t open with a meet-cute, or ‘wacky hijinks’ – it opens, in fact, with a break-up, as 44-year old Cal (Steve Carell) splits with his wife of 27 years (Julianne Moore). There’s a particularly funny and heart-wrenching scene where she admits that she cheated on him and he – unable to stomach the idea – essentially dives out of a moving car just so he doesn’t have to listen to her anymore. It’s difficult and painful, yet also funny – a lot like life. And the entire film plays out along much the same lines. It’s a very honest, sweet, at-times sexy and thoroughly mature romantic comedy. It’s also one of the best films of the summer so far.

The idea of ‘growing up’ is a central theme in the film, so it makes sense that Steve Carell (who has played an over-grown man-child before in The 40-Year Old Virgin, and an emotionally-crippled, middle-aged man in Dan in Real Life) is the lead in what may be his most mature role to date. Thanks to the superb ensemble cast, though, he’s not asked to ‘drive’ the film so much as to simply steer it. His character may be the emotional heart of the story, but in many ways, Ryan Gosling’s womanizing cad, Jacob, may be the hero. Bottom line, this kid can act. He’s been nominated for the quirky, indie dramas Half-Nelson and Lars and the Real Girl, and probably should have been for the steamy Blue Valentine, but this film stretches him a little bit. He’s allowed to relax a bit, have some fun, and even crack a smile. Who knew that his comedic timing was so strong? His character, Jacob, takes Cal under his wing when he sees Cal struggling with his divorce in the bar while trolling for women. The resulting montage as Jacob attempts to remake Cal in his image is both hilarious and thoughtful and a real jumping off point for the story as a whole. Other strong notches in the cast include the always-dependable Julianne Moore, Emma Stone, who is quickly becoming one of my favourite young actresses (and not just because her flaming red hair makes her smoking hot), and former Academy Award winner, Marisa Tomei (who’s made something of a comeback of late as a second-banana in these films – it seems Hollywood is realizing she works best in small doses).

Also ‘growing up’ is the screenwriter himself, Dan Fogelman, whose best-known works to this point were animated features (including the original Cars, Bolt and last year’s Tangled). The writing is consistently strong throughout and the exchanges that the characters share are believable and funny without making you roll your eyes. There’s a scene halfway through the film where Cal stands outside, despondent, in a downpour and mutters half-heartedly, “Hmmph. Such a cliché.” Indeed, the Romantic Comedy has been around for a long time and its conventions are seemingly written in stone, yet this film manages to wisely tiptoe around them. The few instances where the film does give in, the characters themselves will take notice reminding us all with a nudge and a wink. The humour is smart and engaging without being crass (there’s one joke regarding teenage masturbation, but it’s handled in a cute and delicate manner) which makes it seem almost like a throwback in this, the age of the ‘gross-out’ comedy (that Carell himself helped start with The 40-Year Old Virgin some six years ago).

At its heart, the film is a simple, multi-generational love story, but unlike other films of its ilk (Playing By Heart, for instance, or even Love Actually – though the latter is still a very decent film), it doesn’t seem to suffer from having too many characters. The story weaves them in and out constantly and we never forget about anyone. Just when it seems like we’ve been spending too much time with Cal, we’ll cut to the sweet subplot with his smart-but-not-quite-too-smart-to-be-believable 13-year old son. Directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa (whose previous directing experience was the uneven 2009 Jim Carrey / Ewan McGregor vehicle, I Love You Phillip Morris) do a great job of deftly switching between the leads and keeping the story moving.

The end of the film isn’t perfect. Everything doesn’t magically return to its original state. This isn’t the Brady Bunch. These characters grow and change before our eyes, and as they grow up, they discover that love – like life – is awkward and messy and even painful at times, but it also can be beautiful. The same can be said of the film itself. Crazy, Stupid, Love is a romantic comedy for grown-ups. More than that, it’s a great film and one of the best films of the year so far.

Geek Score: 9 out of 10 bacon strips


What I’m Reading: Autumn: The City by David Moody

What I’m Playing: Infamous 2 for PS3

Captain America: The First Avenger

Prior to attending the special advance pre-screening (through Scene! It pays to be a member! (tm)) there was a real fear on my part that I would have to dismiss Captain America as American chest-thumping, jingoistic treacle - thankfully, some smart screenwriting decisions and strong performances from the leads makes it one of the better films of the summer and one of the best comic book adaptations of recent memory.

The story revolves around Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), an undersized, underweight asthmatic who wants, more than anything, to join the US Army and help out during World War 2. Of course, he flunks his physical. So he lies on his questionnaire and tries again. And again. And again. Finally, at his fifth such attempt, a scientist sees something in Steve that leads him to believe he'd be a perfect fit for his new super-soldier experiment. Of course, Steve accepts, the experiment is a success and he becomes Captain America - super soldier extraordinaire. They touch briefly on the character's comic origin (Captain America as a character was essentially created as pseudo-propaganda during war-time) by having him perform at USO troupes and functions across the states selling war-bonds. But while the character's name itself is 'Captain America', the screenwriters wisely fleshed out his platoon by featuring, in no particular order, a Canadian sharpshooter, two Frenchmen, an attractive, female British agent (guess what happens there?) and a gruff, surly, southern Colonel (played with delicious, scenery-chewing camp by Tommy Lee Jones). The main villain in the film is Red Skull (Hugo Weaving), a Nazi version of the super-soldier phenomenon that is bent on world domination (standard comic-book villain stuff - not necessarily befitting the 14th Greatest Comic Book Villain of All-Time according to IGN, but it's a minor gripe really)

If you have any knowledge of comic books, you probably know who Captain America is. He's probably Marvel's top draw that *hadn't* been made into a feature film to this point and he's front and center in a number of major events such as Civil War, Secret Invasion and Marvel Zombies. That said, the movie version strays a bit from canon (seems like every time I review a comic book movie lately I have to say that) but not in any way that will lead the nerds to raise their pitchforks and burn Hollywood to the ground. The changes they make are more for narrative purposes and the sake of continuity in the franchise as well as creating a sense of community among the Marvel universe, so in some ways it actually works out for the best (I know, I know, blasphemy, etc. - I'll turn in my Geek badge and credentials).

One thing that Marvel Studios seems to understand that DC's fledgling film studio has yet to truly grok is how to humanize their characters. Sure, they're superheroes, but they have heart and real motivations driving them. For instance, nobody outside of comic book fandom really knew or cared about Iron Man prior to the 2008 feature film, but Tony Stark had a soul and the audience really rooted for the character and a connection was formed. $300 million later a studio was funded and a franchise model was born. Thor's coffee scene is one such example - a scene that could have easily ended up on the cutting room floor, but because it didn't, it helped to try and 'humanize' a character who by his very nature is completely inhuman. Likewise, Captain America features a couple of scenes that another director might have thrown away, but Joe Johnston (who also directed the underrated Hidalgo with Viggo Mortensen - check it out) found a way to fit in and the film is better for it. Johnston has a certain amount of fun with the source material, but still manages to take it seriously.

Somewhere along the line, Marvel Studios decided to hire people who can *act* - a novel concept in comic-book action films. Chris Evans was the best part of two very bad comic book films in Fox's disastrous Fantastic Four series as the Human Torch, but he really gets a chance to shine here with the film on his (extremely broad) shoulders. He's a likable lead that audiences can root for. The aforementioned Tommy Lee Jones looks like he's having the most fun he's had since Men in Black II came out almost a decade ago. Finally, Hugo Weaving's Red Skull is suitably menacing (his German accent is harsh and abrupt - almost like he copied his speech mannerisms from watching Hitler's speeches) providing a worthwhile foil for the heroes.

The special effects suffer at times from issues with overt CGI and the post-production 3D is a blatant cashgrab completely unnecessary but nothing is so jarring as to prevent your suspension of disbelief. The film's pacing moves along well and the two-hour runtime feels brisk (unlike Green Lantern's 1 hr 45 minutes that feels almost twice that) and when it's all over you'll be left wanting to see more. And thankfully, the wait won't be too long - next up on the docket for Marvel is the ambitious Avengers (featuring Captain America, Thor, Hulk, Iron Man, et al.) next year. While they don't quite have a Pixar-esque winning streak just yet, they're punching above their weight, so I'm definitely looking forward to that one. Along with The Dark Knight Rises (have you seen the teaser? OMGasm), 2012 could be a great year for comic book movies.

Captain America combines an above-average script with great lead performances and sprinkles in good directing with brisk pacing. It's a film that pays homage to the source material, yet isn't afraid to write its own chapter in canon. It's a very worthwhile summer action film and one of the better comic book movies released of late.

Geek Score: 8 out of 10 bacon strips


What I'm Reading: Sweet Tooth vol. 3

What I'm Playing: Infamous 2 on PS3

Green Lantern

Let me get this out of the way right now – Green Lantern is not a bad film. In fact, I actually enjoyed it a little bit. Technically-speaking, however, it’s not really a *good* film, either – there are issues with the pacing and plotting and those creepy coloured-lenses that Ryan Reynolds wears when he’s getting his Green on are truly disturbing. But as a comic book origin story, it succeeds, at least partly, thanks to its lead actor and some dazzling special effects.

In Green Lantern, Ryan Reynolds plays Hal Jordan, the ‘first’ human Green Lantern (There’s since been three more, but that may be too much nerd for you to handle right now, so I won’t go into it), test pilot, daredevil and all-around cocky sonuvabitch who is gifted a power ring that enables him to join an interstellar police force known as the Green Lanterns. If this sounds slightly convoluted, that’s because it is – but in all seriousness, the film stays remarkably true to the comic, at least in terms of the origin story. Reynolds plays Jordan with just the right amount of smarm and cocksure bombast mixed with just a tinge of regret, enabling everyone who was terrified he might be ill-suited for the role, or overplay it to the point of caricature to breathe just a bit easier.

The power ring that he wears enables him to do literally ‘anything’ he can think up (which has always been a point of contention among comic literati – it smacks of deus ex machina, honestly, but we’re not here to critique the comic, we’re critiquing the film, so I digress..) which ensures a few money special FX shots. One shot wherein he throws a tanker truck at a foe and then creates an antiaircraft gun out of energy and blasts said tanker truck – turning it, essentially, into a very large grenade – stands out as my favourite, but there are several worth noting. At least you can see where they spent the reported $200 million.

The plot, such as it is, is more than a little meandering – you start with Hal showing off during a flight exercise, then insert the requisite fight with the potential significant other (Blake Lively, in a role she will likely do her best to downplay if she ever gets to accept alifetime achievement award), then Hal finds the ring and things pick up a little bit. Once he becomes a full-fledged Green Lantern (complete with ‘hilarious’ training montage!) the story focuses a little bit but it seems unsure as to what to do with the secondary characters. Familiar (to fans of the comic, at any rate) faces like Kilowog and Sinestro are given cameo roles at best. Especially disappointing is how they fail to really recognize the Hal Jordan / Sinestro dynamic (one of the best in the books). What should be a dynamic and somewhat ... er.. ‘complicated’ relationship is boiled down to about three minutes of on-screen interaction. Part of this is done for the sake of pacing, I’m sure (as it is, the film clocks in at only two hours, yet seems rather plodding but when your main villain is as nondescript and relatively blasé as Parallax, there’s only so much you can do), but a little background information on the other Lanterns would've helped flesh things out immensely.

Still, as an origin story (and let’s be honest here – that’s what this film is, the first in what WB is hoping against hope to become another sturdy franchise) it defines the character and provides enough ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ to make it a passable use of 2 hours. The issues that the film does have are not irreparable, which gives me hope if the sequel is greenlit. There's a lot more to this character than they show in this film and I'd like to see them get the chance to show it.

If you’re a fan of the comics, you will see more than enough nods and winks (stay past the first part of the credits, specifically) to keep you on your toes and you will likely leave (relatively) satisfied. If you haven’t read a Green Lantern comic, though, buyer beware.

Geek Score: 6 out of 10 Bacon Strips


What I'm Playing: Infamous for PS3

What I'm Reading: Batman: Arkham City

Remembering The Vancouver Canucks

I remember the Vancouver Canucks.

I remember 8 o’clock bedtimes that were artificially extended because Mom would let me listen to the radio as I go to sleep. The radio was always tuned in to CKNW980. Other children had lullabyes – I was sung to sleep by Jim Robson.

I remember Petri Skriko and Tony Tanti scoring gorgeous goals and giving up just as many going back the other way because of an infuriating refusal to backcheck.

I remember Stan Smyl steaming down the off wing.

I remember Pavel Bure, flying as only he could – when he stepped on the gas he was unlike any player the Canucks ever had (or likely ever will).

I remember Trevor Linden. Of course I remember Trev. - the native Albertan who adopted this city as his own. The stoic leader, the classy gentleman, the man who would give his all playing with two broken legs and a broken arm if he had to.

I remember Kirk McLean and The Save vs. Robert Reichel in ’94. I remember him single-handedly stealing game 1 against the Rangers.

I remember Nathan Lafayette. I’ll remember that ‘ping’, as clear and audible today as when it happened. I’ll remember that sound for the rest of my life.

I remember the ‘94 team coming home to an heroes’ welcome, even though they lost - as it should be.

I remember Mark Messier and the hope that his signing signalled along with the ruin that followed shortly thereafter.

I remember Mike Keenan trading Trevor Linden and Kirk McLean and feeling like I had been punched in the stomach.

I remember a flashy young Swede named Markus Naslund finally getting the chance to shine.

I remember Todd Bertuzzi – the good and the bad. The beast of a man who could hold off defenders with one hand while weaving magic with the other and the villain who momentarily lost his mind and broke a man’s neck because a game had gotten out of hand.

I remember Dan Cloutier. … But I try my best to forget him.

I remember Roberto Luongo taking the entire team on his broad shoulders and lifting the club to the most improbable division title in team history in his first year here. I remember the unrealistic expectations that that initial success placed on him to the point where he is now routinely criticized – fairly or unfairly – if he can’t singlehandedly win a game any longer.

I remember the Sedins’ coming out party after the lockout, as they finally got the chance to display their deft passes and otherworldly playmaking ability without someone hooking them to the ice.

I remember Anson Carter’s 36 goals. Chances are he still does, too.

I remember the Blackhawks. I really, really hate the Blackhawks.

I remember the greatest regular season this team has ever had.

I remember every one of Ryan Kesler’s 41 goals as ‘stone hands’ became one of the most unlikely 40-goal men in history through tireless hard work and dedication.

I remember a glorious stretch before Christmas and stretching into the new year where the team Just. Couldn’t. Lose. I remember 17 straight games without a regulation loss.

I remember the most goals for and fewest goals allowed – both firsts for the team.

I remember a power play that when it was working was absolutely sublime – gorgeous passes and lightning-quick puck movement that made the Canucks seem more like the Harlem Globetrotters.

I remember nearly fainting when I found out that the Canucks drew the Blackhawks in the first round.

I remember The Save version 2.0 when Luongo stuffed Patrick Sharp in overtime of game 7.

I remember Alex Burrows’ half-clapper, top-cheddar.

I remember we played the Predators in the second round, but absolutely nothing else about that series. Carrie Underwood’s husband plays for them, right?

I remember Ryan Kesler scoring on one leg and willing the West-clinching game into overtime.

I remember Juice and The Stanchion and the ugliest series-winning goal you will ever see.

I remember going up 2-0 in the Finals and thinking, “My God, they might actually win.”

I remember Aaron Rome’s hit on Nathan Horton.

I remember the Bruins dictating the play for 4 of the next 5 games and watching in disbelief as they skated off with the Cup in our own building.

I remember being bitter for a while and then looking at the injured list and realizing it was a miracle they even got that far. They nearly had to dress Nolan Baumgartner in game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. That’s roughly the equivalent of having your arm blown off by a mortar and sticking a Band-Aid on the stump.

I remember Danny and Hank’s season-ending interviews as the cadre of reporters gave them every, single chance to blame something – injuries, poor officiating, Luongo’s goaltending, ANYTHING – for the loss (because you know the Canucks are a bunch of whiners who do nothing but complain – the media says so, therefore it must be true) and Danny and Hank steadfastly refused to take the bait. “We lost this series because we didn’t score. It’s on us.” And I remember at that time thinking that we are so lucky to have these two on our team. They have more strength of character and moral fiber in their pinky fingers than Dan Tencer (Inside Sports Radio) or Mike Milbury (worst general manager in league history, HNIC/NHL on NBC talking-head) have in their entire bodies.

Sure, it didn’t have the ending we wanted, but I know one thing – years from now, after the disbelief and bitterness has faded into the background, I’ll look back on this season and smile. I’ll remember that this season was the most fun I’ve ever had watching hockey.

I’ll remember the 2010-2011 Vancouver Canucks with pride.

Go Canucks Go.

Super 8

Super 8's marketing campaign is purposefully vague. The ads showed various things flying through the air, cars missing engines, dogs disappearing and one of the craziest train wrecks ever filmed, but they never give an actual 'hint' as to what the story may be about. Whether this ends up hurting or harming one of the best films of the year in the long term remains to be seen, but this film deserves to be viewed by as many people as possible. It's a throwback adventure film in the vein of '80s stalwarts such as Goonies or ET that manages to tap nostalgia, yet still keeping itself very grounded - essentially, it's a Spielberg film that isn't directed by Spielberg (though he did produce it).

Set in the '80s (imagine that) in small-town USA, the film focuses on a group of friends who are trying to shoot a low-budget zombie movie on cheap, super-8 film-stock (hence the title). While on-location for a scene, they witness a spectacular accident when a military train derails. Soon after, it becomes apparent that 'something' was on that train and it has since escaped. Things (and people) start disappearing. Weird electrical brown-outs start occurring. And, of course, the sour-faced military roll into town and start pushing the locals around (including the irrepressible Kyle Chandler as the widower-father of the main character - and a deputy for the town's police force).

The young group of friends who serve as the main characters of the film (despite the fact that Kyle Chandler gets top billing in the credits) have a real camaraderie that shines through and helps us root for them. They bicker and banter, they swear at each other and they really do a great job of creating a solid, emotional connection with the audience. Watching them sit around a booth in a local diner talking about their plans for their movie, you really get the sense that you 'know' these characters. This shouldn't be a surprise, since director JJ Abrams is a well-known proponent of strong character development. In particular, young Joel Courtney, who plays Joe Lamb (the de-facto 'hero' of the film) immediately invites immediate comparison to a wide-eyed Henry Thomas (as Elliott from ET).

The story has just enough twists and turns to prevent it from being completely predictable, but given that it's an adventure film at its heart - not the mystery film that the ad campaign would have you believe - the film can be forgiven for taking you by the hand a little bit. Ultimately, while it may seem strange to call a monster movie a 'character-driven' film, Super 8 succeeds largely because of its characters, rather than in spite of them. Sure, the special effects are pretty and there are some nice explosions (I watched it in an UltraAVX theatre and was blown away - literally - by some scenes) but by investing in these characters, you appreciate them more and it makes the (slightly-saccharine, admittedly) ending that much more palatable.

Super 8 is mint and reminds us why we love summer movies. It's a fun adventure film with heart to spare, a solid stable of characters and some great special effects that belie its relatively small budget. It also may be the best film you see this summer. I recommend it wholeheartedly and without prejudice.

Geek Score: 9 out of 10 bacon strips.

PS: Don't leave as soon as the credits start rolling. Have a little patience. You won't be disappointed.

What I'm Playing: Infamous for PS3

What I'm Reading: Marvel Zombies vol. 2

LA Noire

LA Noire has a lot going for it - A well-written, twisting, film-noir story, tremendous voice acting, revolutionary motion capture and outstanding developer-pedigree, to list a few - but a few minor hiccups and details prevent this very good game from being truly great.

LA Noire tells the story of Cole Phelps, war hero and ex-marine who rises through the ranks of the LAPD in post-war (1947) Los Angeles.  As expected in a film noir, Phelps is... not exactly a perfect hero.  His story is told through a combination of in-engine cinematics and 'flashback' sequences which retell his history during the war.  Phelps is played (and I use that term literally - the game's motion capture and digitization are truly revolutionary, so the character in-game is an almost eerie likeness of the actor himself) by Aaron Staton, best known as Ken Cosgrove on AMC's sublime period drama, Mad Men.

As Phelps, the player works his way through the LAPD (cutting his teeth on the Traffic desk first, before moving up to higher-profile desks such as Homicide or Vice) by solving a series of cases.  Game play, such as it is, involves mostly moving from one location to another, gathering 'evidence', and questioning suspects (or 'Persons of Interest', in cop-parlance), with just a bit of driving and shooting thrown in for variety (it IS a Rockstar game, after all).  The evidence-gathering can be a bit tedious - it plays out like a modern-day adventure game 'pixel-hunt' where you walk around a crime scene, and pick up various and sundry items, turn them over in Cole's hands and wait for him to either notice something important or mention that it's not relevant to the case.  Sometimes this can be relatively intuitive (noticing the shoe-size of a given suspect can help you eliminate them from questioning if the size doesn't match bootprints at the murder scene, for instance) and sometimes they can seem illogical and completely unhelpful (you would think that finding a can of flammable gas at an arson suspect's home would be useful, but apparently not).

The real meat of the game (and, indeed, the part that's gotten the game the most press prior to release), is the 'interview' process as you talk to witnesses and suspects and try and discern whether they're telling you the truth or not.  By watching the (again, outstanding) motion capture of the character's faces, you can see various facial tics, swallows or blinks which - like poker tells - tend to belie what the individual is telling you.  You may then either accept what they're telling you as the truth, 'doubt' it, or outright accuse them of lying (the latter response requires you to have acquired a piece of evidence to prove them as a liar, or else the POI will clam up and be completely unhelpful for the remainder of the interview).  Responding correctly will open up new avenues as the character reveals different leads or clues that you would otherwise miss out on if you answer poorly.  This is harder than it looks as some characters (a seedy land developer played by Fringe's own Walter Bishop, John Noble, comes immediately to mind) are downright tough to read, with the only hitch to give anything away being the slight flutter of the carotid artery to indicate a slightly-elevated heart rate (yes, the motion capture is THAT good).  This is great stuff, in theory, but the main problem here is that there's no punishment for being absolutely horrid at interviewing - seriously, you can blow every question and then the game will create some deus ex machina (either Phelp's partner making a comment, an especially-helpful phone call or even stumbling across the suspect completely by accident) that will fill you in on just where you need to go next.  Sure, it keeps the plot moving forward, but it comes across as hollow.   The only real impetus for you to try to answer all the questions correctly is the end-of-case 'score' that the game gives you based on your performance (and the achievement points that come with them).

Essentially, most cases boil down like this - proceed to location A, find all the clues, talk to all the people, then proceed to location B, repeat, head to location C, find suspect, chase suspect (because they ALWAYS run - either in a vehicle or on-foot), arrest suspect, then try to get a confession in the interview room.  If you fail to get a confession, though, don't worry, because something else will inevitably come up which will ensure that the 'guilty' party either ends up on a slab or in the hoosegow.  I personally found this frustrating because it makes what they advertise as a truly open-world detective game feel almost oppressively linear.  You can't arrest or shoot the wrong suspect because the story won't let you.  I'm all for narrative continuity, but a little leeway would have been nice, is all I'm saying.

Thankfully, for a game that banks so heavily on its story, at least it's a good one.  At the risk of spoiling anything, I'll just say that LA Noire takes a page out of classic noir films (you can even choose to play the game in black-and-white - a real nice touch, imho) complete with femme fatales, crooked cops and plot twists galore.  Even as the gameplay gets monotonous (and it *can* get monotonous, believe me - by the time you've driven to your thirtieth dilapidated hotel and dug around in a suspect's trash looking for a gum-wrapper with an address written on it, your mind may start to wander) the story will keep you interested in pressing through to the next case.

Now this is not meant to sound negative - sure, the gameplay can seem a bit blase at times, but when the game's mechanics work in the manner the developers intended, it's a truly unique and exciting gaming experience.  There's one case on the homicide desk where you have two legitimate suspects - you have evidence which points to both of them and you honestly cannot tell which one did the deed.  So you haul them both into the station and then go back and forth between the interview rooms essentially playing them off each other.  If you play your cards right, you get one to implicate the other and voila, you have your perp dead to rights.  Unfortunately for Rockstar, there just isn't enough of these moments.

Still, taken as representative of where the adventure game genre (because it IS, at its heart, an adventure game, even though it's got driving and shooting - don't let anyone tell you otherwise) is headed, it has me genuinely excited for the future.  LA Noire's tremendous story and revolutionary digital 'actors' makes it a very worthwhile play-through and I'm hopeful that Team Bondi gets the chance to make a proper sequel (maybe a little less linear, with a little more rope to hang yourself with) which could be absolutely gangbusters.  Pardon the pun.

Geek Score: 8 out of 10 bacon strips



What I'm Playing: Infamous for PS3 (Have to finish it before I dive into the sequel)

What I'm Reading: Batman & Son

Batman: Arkham Asylum

Batman: Arkham Asylum is the best superhero game you will ever play.  Granted, the paean of superhero games is not exactly long and illustrious (Who can forget the ‘classic’, Superman 64 – where you took the Man of Steel on a harrowing journey flying through giant rings in the sky for no reason whatsoever), but that doesn’t stop people from saying ‘Catcher in the Rye’ is JD Salinger’s best novel, does it?

From the very opening scene when Batman catches the Joker and accompanies him to the titular hospital for the criminally insane, you realize just how intense and immersive this game is.  The video game cold open has been around since Half-Life way back in 1998, but that doesn’t make it any less impactful if it’s done well.  The story involves Joker hatching a plot to take over Arkham with Batman trapped inside and, as the caped crusader himself, you must subdue his henchmen, do battle with a hodgepodge of recognizable bat-villains (in boss battles of varying degrees of difficulty and cleverness) and prevent the Joker from taking over the city.

There’s a level of polish present in this game that just doesn’t exist much - even in your triple-A titles -  nowadays.  Everything is slick and sleek, from the incredible voice-acting (Mark Hamill voicing the Joker is a particular delight – listening to him over the intercom berating his henchmen as you pick them off one by one is hilarious and really immerses you in the setting),  to the razor-sharp controls (you’re Batman, so you should be able to beat 6 low-level thugs up at the same time without breaking a sweat, and thanks to the way the game handles, you can do just that) and the sheer volume of easter eggs - Bat-fans will find tonnes of hidden goodies here covering the character’s entire comic run, from the obvious (Penguin’s umbrella) to the more obscure (Calendar Man’s cell) to the downright creepy (Croc’s lair).

Part of what makes the game so great is how it lets you really feel like you are Batman.  As mentioned, you can brawl with the best of them,  but the game incorporates nearly every aspect of the Batman mythos – the gadgets, the Batmobile, even the Bat-Boat makes an appearance.  As fans of The Bat know, his strength lies in the fear he instills in ne’er do-wells, and the game handles this with aplomb.  Say you find your way into a room with six henchmen wielding AK-47’s – using stealth (and the Bat-hook attached to some conveniently-placed gargoyles which blend in nicely to Arkham’s draconian décor) you manage to pick them off one by one.  As each henchman falls by your hands, the remainder grow increasingly agitated until the last one left is a babbling mess.  When you finally put him out of his misery, you almost feel sorry for the poor schlub – but it definitely doesn’t make it any less cool.

With its tight controls, sufficiently-creepy soundtrack and the uncanny manner the game allows you to ‘become’ Batman himself, Arkham Asylum is an achievement in superhero game design – and it makes the upcoming Arkham City one of the top titles to look forward to in the latter-half of this year.

Geek Score: 9 out of 10 Bacon Strips.



What I’m Playing: LA Noire for PS3

What I’m Reading: Batman: The Long Hallowe’en

Thor

Thor is an ... uneven film.   It glosses over some of the subtler points of the character's origin story,  it contains a love story that seems almost forced and tacked-on, and characters are confused and underdeveloped.  Despite all this, however, it is a solid addition to Marvel film canon and should be enjoyed by both comic book nerds and people looking for something shiny that makes things go boom.


Thor has been around for a while - the Marvel version of the character dates back to the early '60s, and rumours of a film version have been kicking around for what seems like ages.  It wasn't until Marvel recently decided to take hold of their own properties that it came to fruition, though.  Chris Hemsworth is the titular character in a role that won't serve to turn him into an household name, but should ensure he sees regular work for the near future.  As Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin, and heir to the throne of the realm of Asgard, he's brash, strong and arrogant - and, of course, dashingly handsome.  Basically, he is exactly what you'd expect him to be.  Cast out of Asgard by his brother, Loki (Tom Hiddleston in a role with just the right amount of sniveling and menace), Thor winds up on Earth - where he undergoes various 'fish-out-of-water' moments (one scene with Thor enjoying a particularly tasty cup of coffee is great) and, predictably, falls in love with the first attractive woman he meets (Natalie Portman as Dr. Jane Foster).  Frankly, one of my biggest issues with the film is this relationship itself - without spoiling anything, I'll just say that they took a few... 'liberties' with the character's origin story and because of this, the relationship between the two doesn't seem to ring true with me - in many ways, she almost seems as if she's there just to make googly eyes at him and laugh at his alien quirks.

And speaking of glossing-over, Thor has four warrior friends from Asgard who journey to Earth in a bid to convince him to return home, but these characters are so static that I couldn't even remember their names without looking them up on IMDB (The girl is named Sif... the other three, I don't know - one of them likes eating, I think).  They seem to exist to drive the plot forward and nothing else.  In a film directed by Kenneth Branagh, I was just a little bit shocked by how paper-thin they are.

Enough nitpicking, though - Thor is a comic book movie and the main thing I should be asking is, "Is it fun?".  Thankfully, I can answer that emphatically in the affirmative.  The scenes in Asgard, though all CGI, are quite pretty to look at.  Seriously, how much Windex do you think they go through in a year up there?  *Everything* has this glossy sheen to it which lends very well to the otherworldly aesthetic they're trying to achieve.  The action sequences are well-shot and the special FX are more than adequate (the scene where the Destroyer rampages through a SHIELD roadblock is particularly memorable).  The direction by the aforementioned Branagh is tight and good pacing keeps the film moving (it clocks in at a brisk 2 hours).  Additionally, the acting is almost uniformly solid, if not excellent.  Plus, there are more than a few nods and winks to comic fans (Watch for Hawkeye in the scene where Thor assaults the SHIELD base) that make it worth a view if you're a huge nerd like me.

That being said, will NON-comic book fans enjoy it?  I would wager so - it's May now, so the summer movie season is starting up.  It's the time of year when people come to the multiplex and feel perfectly all right with turning off the logic centre of their brain and watching things go 'splodey on-screen, and Thor does it with enough bombast and good humour to make it worth your dollar.  It's far from a perfect adaptation, but it's a decent franchise starter and a worthwhile addition to Marvel film canon.



Geek Score:  7 out of 10 bacon strips.


What I'm Playing: Alan Wake (a fun game, but this is just a placeholder until next week when L.A. Noire comes out)

What I'm Reading: Batman: Arkham City

How Roberto Got His Groove Back

Just for the record, that gust of wind you felt at about 10:25 PM PST last night *wasn't* a hurricane or even a particularly-strong storm.  Rather, it was the collective exhalation of the entire west coast of Canada following one of the most tense hockey games ever experienced within our borders.  When Alex Burrows (#14 in your program, but #1 in your hearts ... at least until his next needless high-sticking penalty) ripped his 'half-clapper, top-cheddar' (thanks to TSN Analyst @armdog Colby Armstrong for that gloriously nonsensical description) past Chicago Blackhawks' goalie Corey Crawford, the entire city - perhaps the entire province, rose to their feet and cheered.

Let me explain something about my favourite team, the Vancouver Canucks.  Things... don't always work out for them.  If you pay any attention to baseball, think the Red Sox, prior to 2004.  Or, for a more apropos comparison (especially given the Chicago connection), those lovable Cubbies.  If they were an NFL franchise, they'd be the Detroit Lions.  If they were a golfer in the early 2000s, they'd be anyone not named Tiger Woods.  You get the picture.  What I'm trying to say is that things rarely work out in the end.

Being a Canucks' fan, you learn from an early age to expect the worst, then be pleasantly surprised when something actually works out the way you hoped it would.  The team has been around for 40 years now and the most enduring memory we have is from two months after Kurt Cobain killed himself - in 1994, they got all the way to seventh game of the Stanley Cup finals... and lost.  That's right, our enduring rallying cry - our most revered memory - is of our team losing.  Knowing that you can begin to understand a few things about Canucks fans.

Then came this season.

I don't know if it was the alignment of the stars, an abnormal concentration of ozone in the drinking water, an Olympic hangover or just a glorious coincidence, but this year things just started going *right*.  From December until February - more than two full MONTHS, the team didn't lose.  They had the best record in the entire league (not surprisingly, a franchise first) locked up by the end of March and then they cruised to the finish line, blowing every single franchise record out of the water.  Instead of finding more creative and painful ways to lose, the team found ways to win.  It was extraordinary.  Local media couldn't understand it.

Then, quicker than you could say "Oh $#!#$", thanks to a bizarre comedy of errors on the last day of the regular season, the Canucks' reward for this regular season of excellence was a date with the defending Stanley Cup champion Chicago Blackhawks IN THE VERY FIRST ROUND OF THE PLAYOFFS.  The same team that had knocked them out of the playoffs the last two years in the most excruciating and humiliating of fashions.  Of course.  Now *this* was more like what we have come to expect as Canuck fans.

Shockingly, the Canucks stormed out of the gate and won the first three games of the series.  But that's when we were reminded just what it means to be a fan of this team.  The Blackhawks stormed the gates and demolished the Canucks in games 4 and 5.  Our previously rock-solid defence suddenly had more holes than swiss cheese, our ten million dollar goalie couldn't stop a beach ball and our top-ranked offence was about as threatening as an anemic kitten.  Game six was better - perhaps buoyed by sheer embarassment, the Canucks took it to the Blackhawks, creating chance after chance, but they could never pull away.  Three unlucky bounces led to the game going to overtime and then as our ten million dollar man flopped around on his stomach like a beached whale, an unheralded Blackhawk rookie named Ben Smith instantly became a curse-word in Vancouver by depositing a rebound into the open net.  Comeback complete.  The best-of-seven had become a best-of-one, the Canucks' juicy cushion had evaporated and sports media across the continent were poking fun at those hapless, "gutless" (seriously, some dude from the Chicago Tribune called them that.) Canucks from Vancouver.

In other words, it was status quo for us long-time, long-suffering fans.

Game 7.  The local media, never ones to eschew hyperbole, called it the franchise's 'biggest game ever'.  Regardless if that's really how you feel or not, there was a palpable sense of anxious dread around the city.  The Canucks were on the verge of an historic collapse.  The sort of epic meltdown that would cause the team to become nothing more than a punchline going forward.  Only three teams had managed to squander 3-0 series leads before.  None of them had the best record in the league in the year they did it.  That's right, the Canucks were primed to be the best team in history to choke away an almost-insurmountable lead.   And they were set to do this against their biggest rival in recent history.  ... Yup, that's what it's like being a Canucks fan, all right.

As the puck dropped, you could see the Canucks had fire in their eyes and passion in their bellies - they scored the first goal, they hit anything wearing a white sweater and skated like the wind. ... But the Blackhawks hung around.  Wave after wave, the Canucks came at them - firing shot after shot, spending what seemed like eternities in the attacking zone. ... But the Blackhawks hung around.  Young Corey Crawford, the Hawks' rookie netminder was singlehandedly putting together one of the greatest postseason goaltending performances of all-time.  Almost inexplicably, as the seconds ticked away and the clock wound down in the third period, the Canucks still had only one goal.  Then, predictably, disaster.  Hawks' superstar (and 'Good Canadian Kid', thanks Grapes) Jonathan Toews doggedly scored one of the grittest goals you've ever seen with less than two minutes left in the game. ... while the Hawks were shorthanded.  Of course he did.

During the overtime intermission, my stomach decided it couldn't take it anymore and emptied itself into the toilet bowl.  I felt a little better - a little weak-kneed, maybe, definitely light-headed, but no longer nauseated.  I stumbled back to the couch just in time for the overtime period to begin.

Almost immediately, the Canucks took a penalty. ("Oh God...")
And almost immediately, Jonathan Toews took the puck and skirted down the side boards, almost toying with our defence. ("Oh God...")
And then he slid a perfect pass through the seam. ("Here it comes...")
... Right onto the stick of 34-goal scorer Patrick Sharp, five feet from the net. ("I can't look...")
And then something amazing happened.
Roberto Luongo, our much-maligned, ten-million dollar goaltender, made the save he's paid ten million dollars to make.
Buoyed by Luongo's highway robbery, the Canucks killed off the remainder of the penalty without issue and three minutes after that  this happened:

It was all there - the game seemed tailor-made for masochists.  The hockey gods were setting up the Canucks to lose in the most cruel and painful way imaginable...  Only... the Canucks won.  At 10:25 PM PST, that sound you heard wasn't just the entire province of British Columbia cheering as one - that was the sound of the poles reversing, up becoming down, left becoming right and the laws of gravity simply ceasing to exist.  That sound was me, jumping up and down in my living room, pumping my fists, hugging my wife, trying my best to blink away tears of joy.  That sound was me starting to believe, "Maybe they *can* win this damned thing after all."

Ultimately, the victory over the Blackhawks is just the first step.  If the Canucks are truly aiming to bring the wrath of the Four Horsemen upon us (my canned goods are well-stocked, don't worry) and win the championship, they have to win three more rounds (starting tomorrow night against a very disciplined and cult-like Nashville Predators squad).  It's a long, winding road, but for one brief moment in April, the sun was shining on the Vancouver Canucks.

Go Canucks Go.


What I'm Playing: Batman: Arkham Asylum (watch for my review of this coming shortly)
What I'm Reading: Batman & Robin vol. 2, Sweet Tooth

And The Geek Shall Inherit The Earth

Join me for a second as we jump into the Wayback Machine and travel back in time to the early-90s. Millions of teenagers across North America are decked out in flannel and listening as Nirvana changes popular music.  Democratic presidential nominee Bill Clinton is rocking out on his saxophone on the Arsenio Hall Show (And, presumably, screwing just about everyone in the green room because, well, that's just how he rolls).  Jean Chretien is riding a wild wave of popularity as the country's most liberal Prime Minister since Trudeau.  And a young Curtis J. Harding, Esq. is introduced to comic books for the first time.

A ten minute walk from my house there was a comic store called 'Gotham Comics And Games'.  I wasn't really that into comics in my pre-adolescent years, but after school one day, a friend of mine asked if I wanted to join him on the way to the comic store - apparently there was this video game there that hadn't yet made it to our local arcade (Something called Street Fighter II - perhaps you've heard of it? Anyway..).  With nothing else to do (except homework and, honestly, who the hell wants to do that on a sunny May afternoon?) I graciously accepted the offer.

There seemed an inordinate number of individuals clustered around that arcade cabinet (though my friend would later admit to me, "This is nothing - try coming on a weekend."), so rather than sifting through the mass of humanity waiting my turn to get slaughtered by the local champion, I decided to browse the comics.  Sure, I knew of Batman, Spider-Man and the like - and, indeed, I had a few scattered issues strewn about my house that I had picked up through various means, but this was my first time in an actual comic SHOP.  I was floored.  Rows upon rows of costumed heroes fighting crime (and, of course, more than a few ANTI-heroes exacting their own brand of vengeance/justice/brutality, etc.).  I grabbed two Batman comics, a Spider-Man comic and three Punisher comics (Fact: Punisher was my favourite comic book when I was twelve years old.  I don't know what that says about me, but there it is)  I bade adieu to my friend (who was busy dispatching his seventh successive challenger using with Ryu's shoryuken) and made my way home and spent the whole evening examining my booty.  I was taken in by the action, the story and the artwork.  I pored over every panel and quicker than you could say 'Shazam!', I was hooked.  I soon got my own 'box' at Gotham - every week when the new issues came in, the shop owner would set aside books for me that he knew I would like and I'd come in and pick them up at my convenience.  Life was good.

What happened next?  Well, soon after Superman 'died' (I still have that issue buried in my treasure trove - I wonder if it's worth money now?), high school started trying to pound the geek out of me.  Peer pressure is an hell of a thing.  I stopped wearing dorky tee shirts and started endorsing sports teams in a bid to fit in.  Obviously it didn't work - once you're 'branded' in high school, that's it.  Trying to fight against it is like trying to push the tide back into the ocean.  But that didn't stop me from trying.  Soon I stopped going to Gotham altogether.  Not so long after that, it shuttered its doors for good (pour one for my homies).  And that was seemingly it.  Comics ceased to be a part of my life for over a decade.  It would take one of my favourite films of all-time to re-ignite my passion.  When I saw The Dark Knight for the first time, I was absolutely floored.  I had read The Killing Joke (Alan Moore - represent!) a dozen times and to see a Joker as deranged, unhinged and manic fully-realized on-screen (sure, Jack Nicholson was all right in the original film, but he was a little too cartoonish.   Heath Ledger absolutely *nailed* it.  It will go down as one of the most iconic roles in film history - of that, I have no doubt) was like an alarm clock ringing - violently jolting my inner comic-book geek awake from its slumber.

More than that, in many ways it served as a wake-up call for my entire consciousness.  I started brandishing geeky tees like they were weapons.  I talked openly about video games, comic books, movies - I wasn't afraid to put my passions on display.  Now don't get me wrong - as my friends who have only known me in the 21st Century will attest, I was always geeky.  But this was like my coming-out party.  In a sense, I came to embrace my dorkiness and, more than that, own it.  It wasn't a source of embarassment - it was a sense of pride. 

These days I don't have my own comic shop - I'll pick up trades and one-shots online, or at different stores around the city.  But I haven't stopped looking.  I can't help but think it's like buying your first home - one day you just walk in and 'know'. 

Incidentally, my doctor's office is now located in the spot where Gotham used to be.  The last time I was in there for a check-up, someone had left a tattered, dog-eared Spider-Man comic in the waiting room.  The universe is not without a sense of humour, it would seem.

What I'm Reading: Batman & Robin, vol. 1, Marvel Civil War

What I'm Playing: Batman: Arkham Asylum (Late to the party on this one, I know)

Hobo With A Shotgun

Hobo With A Shotgun is the most un-Canadian Canadian film I have ever seen in my entire life.  Look closely enough and you can see a predominantly Canadian cast (with distinct Maritime accents), hockey skates and even a Tim Horton's cup - but glossing over it all is an R-rated gorefest with more swearing than the South Park movie.

The story of how this film came about is an interesting one, so I'll touch on that briefly - when Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino decided to put together their love letter / homage to '70s B-Movies, Grindhouse together (Brilliant, by the by, if you haven't seen it - grab the full-length Blu-Ray with both films and the trailers... segue!) Robert Rodriguez decided to hold a contest - who can put together the most awesome B-Movie trailer based on an original idea.  Lo and behold, the winner was Jason Eisener, a Haligonian who spliced together footage of a homeless man blowing away criminals with a twelve-gauge.  Now, some four years after the fact, this trailer became the second fully-realized, feature length film to evolve from the 'fake trailers' of the Rodriguez / Tarantino double-cheesefest (following the similarly-themed and equally awesome Machete).

The story, such as it is, involves... well... a hobo... who rides into a pseudo-futuristic, nihilistic cityscape, witnesses a number of grotesqueries and then decides to "clean up the city - one shell at a time" with a shotgun that he manages to procure (fully loaded for no extra charge!) from a pawn shop.

The obvious comparison here is Machete, and where that film used the idea of illegal immigration as a conduit for an ironic, violent, over-the-top gorefest, this film uses the plight of the destitute... as a conduit for an ironic, violent, over-the-top gorefest.  That's right - Hobo With A Shotgun is a movie with a message - and it's about as subtle as a shotgun blast to the face.

As for the film itself, as mentioned, it's extremely violent and contains some scenes that, frankly, had me squirming a little bit.  It's also intentionally (and, at times, unintentionally) hilarious and chock-full of gratuitous (and completely impractical) nudity.  It's an out-and-out love affair to '70s Exploitation cinema (right down to the 'filmed in Technicolor' title card at the beginning - borrowing a page from Tarantino's own playbook) and it pulls it off in style.

Watch for Gregory Smith (from television's Everwood) playing a nigh-on satanic hellion as one of the Hobo's primary nemeses.  I seriously had to do a triple-take to make sure that it was the right kid because if any of you saw his show (and from the tragically-low ratings that it managed in its four season run, probably not many of you did) you would be absolutely blown away.   Additionally, Rutger Hauer as the title character brings an air of gravitas to his role - watching his overly-dramatic delivery of some of the more cornball lines is a delight.  You can almost see him winking at the camera.  Just great stuff all around.

The film gets a little surreal in the final act when it introduces two characters called collectively 'The Plague' (they look like a cross between The Gimp from Pulp Fiction and the player characters in the video game NARC) but it never really runs completely off the rails and the ending is satisfying enough.

Chances are, if you find yourself in a darkened movie theater on a Saturday afternoon with a ticket to see a film called Hobo With A Shotgun, you have at least some idea of what you're getting yourself into - and if that's the case, you'll likely be completely satisfied.  It's B-movie goodness at its best (worst?).


Geek Score: 8 out of 10 bacon strips

Note to my American friends - Hobo is apparently available via Video On Demand in some markets as of April 1st - check it out.  Additionally, a limited, scaling release is planned for mid-May. 

What I'm Playing: Back To The Future: The Game (Episode 2), Fallout: New Vegas

What I'm Reading: Batman: RIP, Marvel Zombies

Back To The Future: The Game

Thanks to a click-thru banner at Penny Arcade, I found out that Telltale Games was offering the first episode of Back to the Future: The Game *absolutely free* this weekend.

I had heard good things, but let's be honest - we've all been burned by licensed properties before.  Remember 'Enter The Matrix'?  That thing seemed ready-made for awesomeness... yet still it ended up bland and uninspired.  That being said, however, Telltale's approach (an adventure game that serves as a 'sequel' of sorts to the trilogy that is now over 25 years old - god, that makes me feel old) gave me high hopes as I started it up the first time.

Maybe it's just overtly nostalgic sentimentality on my part, but they had me completely hooked from the opening credits.

The gameplay is standard, retro-adventure, point-and-click 'hotspot' fare - like it just stepped out of the golden era of adventure gaming (Just for point-of-reference, Full Throttle is my favourite adventure game of all-time).  The graphics are decent, but certainly nothing groundbreaking (though to be fair, I was running with the graphical goodies turned down because my iMac is over three years old).  The sound is uniformly excellent - from the outstanding voice acting (the fellow voicing Marty has Michael J. Fox's voice inflection mannerisms down to a science and Christopher Lloyd returns to voice the character that gave us '1.21 Gigawatts!!!') to the soundtrack (even Huey Lewis & The News make an appearance!).  Where this game *truly* shines, however, is in the story itself.  Without giving anything away, I'll say that the writers have crafted a believable and thoroughly enjoyable romp that could just as easily be mistaken as a full-fledged sequel to the original trilogy.  In essence, it takes the heart and soul of the Back to the Future trilogy and puts it in a video game (there are *several* little winks and nods to fans of the films throughout the game) so that you actually *feel* like you're right there, in that universe (the first time I set the time coordinates into the DeLorean, I couldn't help grinning like a Cheshire Cat).  It's incredibly fun and it made me dust off my old Trilogy boxed set just for the hell of it.

I should warn you, however, that seeing as how the game is in an episodic format, the first 'Episode' is only about 2 to 3 hours long and it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger.  But given how great the first episode was, I felt no qualms about going right out and purchasing the remaining episodes.
Telltale has seamlessly resurrected a beloved movie franchise and released the best new adventure game in years.  If you are even a passing, casual fan of the films, you owe it to yourself to give it a try.   After all, the price is right.


Geek Score: 8 out of 10 bacon strips

Dispensing With Formalities

Greetings, Internets.  Allow me to introduce myself.   I'm DonRocko - Don_Rocko on 'The Twitters' (tm) - but my friends call me Curtis.  I am a 30-something geek from Vancouver, British Columbia.  Like most people who would identify as 'geeks', I have certain... passions:  Writing being one.  Also zombies.  Video games.  Comic books.  Movies.  Television.  Oh, and cheese.  Specifically gouda (delicious!).

Like all great blogs (or so I assume, anyway), this one was started mainly to stop my wife's incessant nagging - "Why don't you have a blog?  You enjoy reviewing things and you have all these opinions - why don't you put them out there?" 
The correct answer *should* have been, "Because of the age-old adage - opinions are like assholes, etc. etc...." and I would have left it at that.
 But, frankly, my wife is much smarter than I am - and using some combination of voodoo and mind control serum, before I even realized what had happened, she convinced me to navigate to blogspot.  And the rest, as they say, is history.
The simple truth of the matter, though, is that I have these passions, and I really, *really* enjoy sharing these passions with people.  So in that regard, this makes perfect sense.
What you *won't* see is an open diary of my life - trust me, *nobody* would want to read that (This morning I woke up, had some cereal, then laid around in sweatpants watching baseball and eating Fritos - see what I mean?)
I plan on reviewing movies, video games, television series, comic books - basically whatever strikes my fancy on a given night.  So, without further adieu... cry havoc!  And let slip the dogs of war!