When a movie is as absurd plot and character-wise as Oldboy is, it must rely heavily on originality and style to drive its success. These dynamics, highlighted by Park Chan-wook's choreographed brutality and maximalism, are what elevated the Korean original to the level of cult classic. If one were to critique the original, one may accuse it of being over-stylized and too violent. With Spike Lee's unimaginative sequel, one would flip this accusation over on itself, because while this Oldboy does retain some of the original's queasy violence, it is utterly devoid of style.
The story here, which is a revenge tale that involves a man being locked in a room for twenty years, lends itself to a movie that should divulge itself in style over substance. While his prior work would seem to suggest that Spike Lee would be the right man for such a picture, his effort here is mind-numbingly drab. It's an exercise in style over substance without any daring style. The result is a movie difficult to sit through, despite the fact that it boasts a very strong supporting performance from up-and-comer Elizabeth Olsen.
If the original film is a tipsy 16-year old in a Ferrari: exciting and fast, but careless and reckless, the sequel is an 80 year old in a Ford Pinto with bad reaction time and worse vision. Even when all of the lights are green, Lee is tapping on the brakes. You don't take this story and simply go through the motions, you go balls to the walls, so that when the plot is at its most insane, which, in the original, was its final act, the movie should be at its ludicrous best. The original was conscious of, and embraced, its own absurdity. Lee's version seems hesitant to do anything whatsoever: when the film should rev its engine, it simply sits idly, and checks, and re-checks its rearview mirror. The audience is in the passenger seat, groaning, and praying that he will just hurry it up and get through the light.
It would not be a stretch to suggest that Lee has created the anti-Oldboy: a movie that's sluggish, monotonous, and worst of all, timid. It should be noted that Lee's director's cut is allegedly around three hours, while the studio-contaminated film we got in theaters was only 104 minutes. Regardless, the movie that ran in theaters was empty, quite literally like the theaters that screened it, as it promptly bombed out of cinemas. It is a film empty of both aesthetic creativity and emotional punch, despite the fact that it calls for both, amid a plot laden with contrivances. Josh Brolin's performance in the lead is fine, as is Sharlto Copley's devilish and conniving Snidely Whiplash of a villain. Performances aside, I must digress into sports analogy, as the Oldboy remake holds more than one similarity with Spike Lee's beloved New York Knicks of this season. It is a substandard product with a slow-moving, corpse-like core, who, with the pedigrees of players like Carmelo Anthony and Tyson Chandler, or, in the film's case, Lee and Brolin, more was expected from by the fans. Like his Knickerbockers, Lee has sputtered with his latest joint. Hopefully he gets his swagger back (I'm not so sure about the Knicks, though).
Someone forgot to post these at the beginning of the season.
It was me. File that one under “East Coast Bias”. But please note that these
opinions were formed about a month ago, and that most of them are already
wrong.
Phoenix: 21.5
Matt: All right, I'm leading this fucking talk. OVER,
and let me tell you why. Eric Bledsoe is not only mini-LeBron, he is in fact a
phantom limb of King James. Born from the anger and dejection from the 2007
Finals demolition thanks to the Spurs, Bledsoe's early life was tumultuous. He
lived inside LeBron's conscious; he was LeBron's conscious. The Celtics
tried his patience, pushed him to the edge, and smiled as he clawed air,
inevitably crashing into the ocean of ridicule the media and all of us put on
him. This was the birth (or should I say abortion) of the one and only Eric
Bledsoe. The man whose had the legal name since December of 1989 was IN FACT
infiltrated by the wandering spirit who saw an opportunity in the form of a
freak athlete compacted into a 6'1'' frame who can arguably guard the 1, 2, and
3.
Lou: Um...I'm...under.
Matt: As I was saying...Eric Bledsoe a.k.a. LeBron's
conscious, now exists in an effort to reunite with the two-year-old liberated
King James. This is why I PREDICT LEBRON WILL REUNITE WITH THE CONSCIOUS
FORMERLY KNOWN AS ERIC BLEDSOE AFTER THIS SEASON AND WILL COMPLETE THE ULTIMATE
FORM OF REALITY/FATE/DESTINY/TRANSCENDENCE/THE GREATEST ENTITY SINCE GOD.
Lou: And with that very strange, CAPS LOCK RANT,
welcome to our Western Conference Preview!
Utah: 27.5
Lou: Under, in the battle of beatens, they won.
Matt: Yeah, 0-5, I'm not on any wagon with their name
on it. Did you know Hayward's camp couldn't come to an agreement because he
yearned for a John Wall-esque max deal to make him the face of the franchise?
Lou: Hey, I love anyone with irrational confidence.
Here's looking at you, Norris Cole.
Matt: This roster is like a clan of illegitimate
children that father potential is sorry it brought onto the world.
Lou: Hey, I like Favors and Canter. You’re one to talk
that way about potential. Need I remind you of your proposed Hibbert-Bynum-Oden
trade?
Matt: Which one was that?
Lou: When you hypothetically suggested you’d trade the
Defensive POY for four broken knees…
Matt: Hmmm, I
don’t recall.
Sacramento: 31.5
Lou: I'm under on
Sacramento.
Matt: Over. I don't
bet against Boogie.
Lou: That's a
stupid stance.
Matt: McLemore
looks good.
Lou: But is he any good?
Matt: I don't know.
Lou: Me either, I
don't really pay any attention to the Kings. Let’s move on.
Matt: Not even with
Shaq?
Lou: Especially not
with Shaq, unless he changes their name to the Queens.
Matt: What if he
convinces Divac to finally give the NBA a team name based off a Shaq nickname?
Lou: What would it
be?
Matt: ...KAZAAM!
New Orleans: 40
Lou: Gotta go under
on this one. Maybe in a few years...
Matt: Over! Reek
Havoc motherfucker!
Lou: Are you
referring to Tyreke Evans?
Matt: The exhiled
King? Yes, I think he'll dominate...the basket. Yeah, he'll play the one...or,
the two...or, he'll do something. Not sure how he fits in. But he’ll do
something.
Lou: The second
headline on ESPN for the Pelicans is: “Pelicans can't defend anyone, fall to
Jazz.” Meanwhile congratulations to the Jazz on the first victory of the
season. They'll come far and few between. Under. Under. Under. (Editor’s note:
See how old this is??!!!)
LA Lakers: 33.5
Lou: Over. Let me
preface the Lakers by saying, Steve Nash, my favorite player, looks like he
should start spending more time in his Vancouver Whitecaps minority owner's role. They're getting more quality minutes from Jordan Farmar.
Matt: Over.
Lou: Jordan Farmar
played in Turkey last year. Turkey. Wait, I'm convincing myself into an under I
think...counterproductive...
Matt: Hey, Turkey's
got a solid basketball league.
Lou: I think the
Lakers season boils down to a Jodie Meeks/Nick Young shooting
competition...until Kobe comes back and murders them both.
Matt: Like
figuratively?
Lou: No. Jodie
Meeks and Nick Young will go on a camping trip together, a camping trip where
they're allowed to shoot as much as they want...and never come back. Kobe will
orchestrate it.
Matt: It'll be like
Deliverance in Northern California.
Lou: Except with
much less teamwork.
Matt: The Lakers
just seem like one, large suck hole.
Lou: And yet, we're
both going over.
Matt: What have we
done?
Lou: Matt, let’s
not think about it. I know you’re a big soccer guy, and I’m a big Steve Nash
guy, so let’s watch Steve Nash doing cool soccer things on a beach instead:
Portland: 38.5
Lou: Batum
EXPLODES!
Matt: Under. I
don't know anyone who plays for Portland besides Aldridge and Lillard.
Lou: Um, Wes
Mathews, Caveman Lopez, BATUM...
Matt: I was trying
to make a joke about CJ Mcollum, but then I just felt bad for him...It does
seem to be the year of Aldridge though.
Lou: This is a
playoff team. Over, over, over. They'll definitely win 40.
Matt: Do you think
Bill Walton likes the Celtics more than the Blazers?
Lou: What a strange
question. No.
Matt: I do.
Lou: He likes Rip
City Bitch, Rip, Rip City Bitch.
Minnesota: 41
Matt: They have to
be healthy, but over.
Lou: Not true. All
You Need is (Kevin) Love.
Matt: Beatles...but Kevin
Love is related to a Beach Boy.
Lou: Then the
Timberwolves are going to be on a Surfin' Safari to the playoffs.... ...Groan.
Matt: I want to
give a shout out to Robbie Hummel's knees.
Lou: God Only Knows
if he'll ever be healthy.
Matt: Groan.
Lou: But seriously,
I'm getting some Good Vibrations about this team.
Matt: Just stop.
Lou: Wouldn't It Be
Nice if Derrick Williams could, you know, do anything productive?
Matt: Yeah—hey,
that's another one. Let's just move onto Dallas.
Lou: Oooh, Dallas.
Fun, Fun, Fun.
Dallas: 44
Lou: Under. Monta
has no friends.
Matt: Under. Dirk
has no friends.
Lou: Well, that's
that.
Matt: Cuban has no
friends.
Lou: That’s mean
what you said about Dirk.
Matt: They’ll
probably go over in spite of us.
Denver: 47
Lou: Under. I am
superconfident in that too.
Matt: Under. George
Karl just needs a year to rebuild.
Lou: Ummmm...
Matt: Oh, yeah.
Who’s there coach now? Under.
Lou: Whenever you
revolve a team around JaVale McGee, that's going to be an under for me. Here's
the ultimate JaVale McGee play: he makes an amazing, athletic block, celebrates
for entirely too long, the ball goes out of bounds. The offensive team gets it
back, immediately hits a three.
Matt: It's the -1
pt block. Classic.
Lou: It's not even
really his fault, but because it’s JaVale, it is.
Matt: Under. Yeah,
they're bad.
Memphis: 49
Lou: We both had
over at the beginning of the season, you know, when you're supposed to do this
sort of thing.
Matt: Yeah, but
they're 3-5...And losing to bad teams…And 49, that's a lot of wins...
Lou: Don't be a
pussy Marion. Over.
Matt: Under.
Lou: Gotta stick to
your guns. Even if your guns are shooting blanks and a coked-out Z-BOW is
charging at you like a maniac.
Matt: That's when he's at his best.
Lou: I'm stubborn.
I said over at the beginning of the season and I'm going to stick with it.
Matt: I have no
pride in what I said a week ago. They’re not winning 50. Under.
Golden State: 49.5
Matt: Klay
Thompson's stroke is immaculate. His positioning skills are ecstatic. His
footwork is off the charts. If there were a pie chart for player possessions on
Golden State, Klay Thompson would have the biggest piece.
Lou: Because he's
always high, and always hungry for pie.
Matt: You know what
else is high? His field goal percentage.
Lou: All right.
Someone likes Klay.
Matt: Kent Bazemore
is the best bench celebrator in the league. Over.
Lou: I'm over too,
if Curry is healthy. And Bazemore keeps the energy up.
OKC: 50.5
Lou: 50.5? Are you kidding
me? That's a little low.
Matt: Definitely
over. Russell's a freak of nature.
Lou: I think he's a
starting guard on my “Don't Give No Fucks” Team. Westbrook plays with a huge
chip on his shoulder all the time: he doesn’t care who you are, he wants to run
past you, run over you, score on you, and then spit on your corpse when he goes
back on defense.
Matt: What's the
starting lineup?
Lou: Russell, Lance
Stephenson, Boogie Cousins, Chris Paul (only in the 4th quarter) and
Byron Mullens (cough token white guy
cough). I know I have two point guards in there, but you know what? I give
no fucks.
Matt: Byron Mullens
gives no fucks. What about Nick Young?
Lou: He's still
camping...anyways OKC is going to win 51 games, easy. I feel like they're going
into this season with a chip on their shoulder. They’re the “Give No Fucks”
Team of the Year, perhaps. And even win they're playing shitty teams like the
Jazz, they're going to bring it like it’s a playoff game.
Matt: They’re one
of like 3 teams in the West that actually tries on defense.
Lou: Speaking of
not trying on defense…
Houston: 54.5
Lou: Under. Because
I resent their ranking. Because they haven't shown me a damn thing.
Matt: Didn't you
hear, dude, they have Linsanity?
Lou: They have the
worst defending perimeter I have ever watched with Lin-Harden-Parsons.
Matt: I’m going
under, just because I don’t like Dwight. I feel like I just wouldn’t enjoy his
company.
Lou: Stand back
people, professional analysts at work here. Professional analysts.
San Antonio: 55.5
Lou: Under. Timmy's
on “the program” and Manu is no longer Manu.
Matt: Timmy can
still dominate even though he's getting limited minutes. He's still the biggest
ecstasy dealer/user in San Antonio, and his enthusiasm/touching/hugging of
other players is a commodity the Spurs can't do without.
Lou: Um, it’s a
good thing were almost done. Things are starting to get…weird.
Matt: Lou, face it.
Things started weird.
Lou: Kawhi Leonard
should be even better this year.
Matt: What a banal
statement. I just learned banal a few days ago. I'm working it into the
rotation.
Lou: Don’t roll out “banal” on my comment. My predictions may be
wrong, my hatred for Norris Cole may be ill founded, my comments may be crude,
but god damn’t, they’re not banal! Did you claim Duncan does ecstacy?
Matt: More like a
statement of fact.
Lou: Did you know
Matt Bonner wears New Balance shoes?
Matt: Matt Bonner
a.k.a. Bonn Squad a.k.a. Red Mamba a.k.a. Red Rocket…
Lou: New Balance
should come out with a Matt Bonner line: New Bonner. How many hipsters can you
see rocking New Bonners?
LA Clippers: 57
Lou: Over.
Matt: Really? Under.
Lou: They got my
boy J.J.
Matt: I actually
have learned to enjoy Redick as a basketball player, at least he's self-aware.
Lou: Their offense
looks potent.
Matt: You know
who's falling out of favor with my personal opinion? Doc Rivers. Has a coach ever
been traded before?
Lou: You can't
trade coaches. The reason it took so long for the deal to go through is because
Doc was like the kid who does something bad in plain sight of the parent, then
watches the parent watch him and waits to see if they say anything.
Matt: Hand caught
in the cookie jar. Is the parent David Stern?
Lou: Yes, and NBA
Title Hopes are in the jar.
Matt: I thought he
just wanted a cookie.
Lou: You know why
he went to LA?
Matt: Why?
Lou: Women, Weed
and Weather.
Matt: Why did Jared
Dudley go?
Lou: “They all come for… From all around the world for…”
Matt: Stop singing.
No one can hear you.
Lou: Jared Dudley's
a pretty goofy dude don't you think?
Matt: Blake Griffin
may be goofier.
Lou: DeAndre Jordan
is goofier-er.
Matt: Are we done
yet?
Lou: Are you
seriously asking or are we going to make fun of Ice Cube?
Matt: No I’m
seriously asking. I’m starving.
Lou:“Don’t it sound clever? What more can I say?
Welcome to LA!”
If we say over, we think they will win 17 or more games.
If we say under, we think they will win 16 or less games.
As far as we know we at least have a 50% chance of getting each of these correct.
Philadelphia 76ers 16.5 Wins...
Louis: They're already 3-0!!! And leading the East!!!
Matt: Best team in the NBA! Over! (Editor's note: Opinion has been compromised by their scorching start)
Louis: We were both going under before the season and, since I have some respect for myself, I'll stick with it. Matt: Hey! Louis: Nothing else needs to be said about this team. Unless you're a diehard Thaddeus Young fan. We'll move on.
Orlando Magic 24.5 Wins...
Matt: I have sympathy for this team. Over. Sympathy for everyone except Jameer Nelson.
Louis: Sympathy pick. Sucker. I'm under.
Matt: I like Vucevic. I like Oladipo. I like Nicholson. I don't like Jameer Nelson.
Louis: Me either. I feel like he was mean to JJ Redick--that's the imaginary locker room narrative that plays out in my head. Terrible court vision for a point guard too.
Matt: He's an awful passer.
Louis: I'd say they should trade him, but the only other point guard on the roster is Ronnie Price.
Matt: Bring on the Ronnie Price era!!! It's his time.
Boston Celtics 27.5 Wins...
Matt: Under.Wait, Chris Humphries makes more money than Rondo?!
Louis: Mikhail Prokhorov is working on a whole 'nother level. 6 points and 5 rebounds a game? That's worth 12 million a year.
Matt: But I like Brad Stevens. He's going to reload this roster.
Louis: They don't care about this season. Under. They'll be entering the Andrew Wiggins sweepstakes.I don't think Rondo is a Celtic at year's end.
Charlotte Bobcats 27.5 Wins...
Matt: Al Jefferson already in full tank mode.
Louis: He's on board. MJ isn't.
Matt: I'm ok with MJ there. He's just an over-competitive asshole. It's worked out for him so far...
Louis: Not as a GM. Under.
Matt: Over... ... ...Damn't, well...
Louis: (He's having second thoughts.)
Matt: I'll stick by the over. That's the mark of a true Charlotte Bobcats fan, even when you know you're wrong, you still believe!
Louis: You're getting the Hornets back. Be happy. Breakout year for Bismack Biyombo?
Matt: Breakout year for Bismack...wait, no, I thought that was last year...breakout year for MKG. Hear me now, breakout year. He's just such a nice guy, can't he have a breakout year?
Milwaukee Bucks 28.5 Wins...
Matt: Giannis!!!!!
Louis: Over. This is a playoff team.
Matt: After two games I'm reeling back on Giannis though. Maybe a couple less exclamation points.
Louis: I'm all in on Giannis. And Larry Sanders. Not so much on Brandon Knight, but this team is winning 29 games. Over or Under?
Louis: You do not want to fuck with World Peace. That's dangerous. What an oxymoron his name presents. Anyways, I'm going under.
Matt: Under. DeRozen and Gay are getting traded.
Atlanta Hawks 40 Wins...
Louis: Under.
Matt: Even. Because that's just the team they are.
Louis: You're just playing the odds...I really don't feel like talking about this team.
Matt: They're front office is saying Jeff Teague can be the Hawks' Tony Parker. He's a Wake Forest guy!
Louis: You just keep telling yourself that.
Cleveland Cavaliers 40.5...
Matt: Bynum's playing! Over.
Louis: They say he has potential.
Matt: I say he can cash in checks based on potential at least until he's 32.
Louis: This is a tough one. But I'll go over. Because of Uncle Drew. Uncle Drew will be cashing in checks long after Andrew Bynum.
The Face of Potential.
Detroit Pistons 41...
Louis: Over. Definitely over. They might win 50.
Matt: They have a solid mix of young guys and veterans.
Louis: Shout out to the name "Kentavious." What a name.
Matt: They're an Over. Easy one.
Louis: Brandon Jennings and Rodney Stuckey are the key. What are they gonna give you?
Matt: Brandon Jennings' wisdom tooth hurts.
Louis: Is that supposed to be a double entendre? He'll overcome it. 5th best team in the East.
Washington Wizards 42...
Louis: Over. And after two games I already regret it. They're defense just disappeared in the 4th quarter against Philadelphia.
Matt: Under. Okafor was a moral center, figuratively and literally. Has everyone just forgotten about Otto Porter?
Louis: Wizards Coach Randy Whitman on Otto Porter: "I don't know who he is."
Matt: Ouch.
Louis: I think we can just assume that every pick the Wizards make is going to be a bust, except John Wall. I'm all in on Wall this year. I'll take the stupid turnovers in stride, he's fun to watch.
Matt: You're a little biased.
Louis: #BulletsForever
New York Knickerbockers 49.5...
Matt: What a squad! I don't even know how they have organized practice. Just look at the personalities. I just want to know what the Metta World Peace and JR Smith conversations are like.
Louis: This. Roster. Makes. No. Sense.
Matt: There one Rasheed Wallace away from being the weirdest, most entertaining basketball team in NBA history. Under.
Louis: Mike Woodson will just shave his eyebrows again and keep them in order. And yet, I'm still under.
Matt: The Knicks might not win 50. But the fans...the fans will win every night.
Brooklyn Nets 52.5...
Louis: Russia takes over New York!
Matt: Mikhail Prokhorov: unaware of the luxury tax.
Louis: He gives no fucks. We've reached the first team that I think has a chance at an NBA title.
Matt: I don't see that happening.
Louis: I don't think it'll happen, but it's plausible, It's within the realm of possibility.
Matt: It's all right, Kevin, It's all right. I'll go with a slight over.
Louis: Over.
Indiana Pacers 53.5...
Louis: Ladies and gentlemen, you're 2013-2014 NBA Champions.
Matt: Not a fan of the Pacers. I really don't want them to win.
Louis: They're 10 deep!
Matt: They gotta lot dudes! They're deep and tall and tough. But I'd rather have Bynum than Hibbert.
Louis: You sure you want me to put that statement on the internet?
Matt: If I had the trade option of Hibbert for Bynum and Odom and all their potential, I'd take it. I don't know why'd I want two centers, but I'd take it. What can I say, I'm a sucker for potential!!
Louis: Roy Hibbert breakout year alert. Over.
Matt: Over.
Chicago Bulls 56.5...
Louis: That's too low. Over. This team is going to win 60, barring major injuries.
Matt: I agree. Over.
Louis: They're just solid, what else is there to say?
Matt: Best regular season team. I'm happy Carlos Boozer finally admitted his hair went away and stopped using spray paint.
Louis: Probably my least favorite Duke player.
Matt: I don't care for Boozer, but he's a bald man and I have to respect it.
Louis: Jimmy Butler breakout year alert?
Matt: The year before the breakout year alert.
Miami Heat 60...
Matt: Under.
Louis: The 1-2 start affecting your decision?
Matt: Yeah, it influenced me. Bosh is definitely their second best player now. He needs to step up. More than 50% of this team won't be there next year.
Louis: Woah!
Matt: I don't think they win the title and the result will be that the team will be broken up. Louis: The end of an era...god, I never want to hear the phrase "The Miami Heat Era..." Like, ever. Matt: Battier, Allen, Birdman, Bosh, Lebron. All gone.
Louis: I just want Norris Cole to go away. He needs to fade into irrelevancy. I miss the days when bench players were humble. I am NOT a Norris Cole fan.
Matt: Is that who we're going to end the Eastern Conference talking about? Norris Cole?
Louis: Under. But as long as Lebron's Lebron, they could three-peat. Matt: And the "Miami Heat Era" will be a thing. Louis: The more I think about it, this team is the perfect "Great Sports Dynasty" of the Justin Beiber/Miley Cyrus era. They're just so lame. Matt: And what a backhanded compliment!
Video Games have come a long way since 2008. Now, in the
final year before the release of the next-gen consoles, the Playstation 4 and
the Xbox One, games have reached a new
maturity; something that will only get better with time as in-game AI get
smarter, visuals more immersive and stories more emotionally provocative. The
reason 2008, in particular, is highlighted here is because it was the year Grand Theft Auto IV, the most recent
game in Developer Rockstar’s eminent open-world, action-adventure canon, was
released. GTA IV (as often
abbreviated) brought the series to a new generation of video game consoles, and
introduced a newfound sense of realism and subtlety in both gameplay and
narrative, while also maintaining the over-the-top satire the series was
founded on. Five years later comes Grand Theft Auto V, and while it enlarges
and improves the game world and fine tunes the modernized driving and shooting
mechanics introduced in GTA IV, it
does not attempt to take the series to any new places. It is not necessarily a
misstep for the series, but rather a non-step; a game that does not attempt to
explore new concepts and characters, instead relying heavily on a
tried-and-trued formula that, in 2013, can be at times, still exhilarating, but at
others, dated.
Relying on its formula for urban chaos does not make GTA V a bad game, in fact, it is a very
good game, a circumstance that speaks volumes for the formula itself. However,
it does make it a safe game, and perhaps, at least within its own canon, a
disappointing one. Safe—that is the best way to describe our second
journey* into a life of crime on the streets of Los Santos (Los Angeles), and a descriptor that a series drowned in
controversy for its depictions of sex, drugs and violence in the past should be
uncomfortable being associated with. It is no longer pushing-the-envelope to
show a character smoking a bong in a cutscene. Other games and franchises have
caught up to Grand Theft Auto in
these respects, and so the series, in order to maintain its highly respected
position as a “groundbreaking” franchise, must break the mold in new ways. That
is where GTA 5 fails.
For the first time, we have three main, playable characters,
and from the onset it appeared that Rockstar missed a golden opportunity to
introduce the first female protagonist in GTA history here (maybe next time).
Instead, we have Franklin, a very bland African American from the ghetto, whom
I turned into a metro-sexual via Suburban outfitters, one of three in game
clothing stores the player can use to dress his or her character. Next we have
Trevor, a larger-than-life violent psychotic, who seems like a callback to the
series’ zanier days. And lastly we have Michael, a retired heist man who
changed his name and escaped the game, now living out the rest of his days in
upper class misery with the most annoying wife and kids you’ll ever see. While
switching between characters to perform different parts of missions is very
cool, I would have loved to see Rockstar try and revolve an entire game around
Michael.
Michael’s mid-life crisis story is decidedly anti-GTA throughout the first quarter of the
game, but he descends into the same gun-toting airhead routine that compounds Franklin
and Trevor. Rockstar surely could have done more with his story had they put
the same amount of focus on it as they had, say, John Marston’s, in the
critically-acclaimed Red Dead Redemption.
Our protagonists’ motivations are almost always completely unfounded and they
are surrounded by a cast of characters that exist primarily to make you do
things for them. This is a problem that has always nagged the series, but in GTA V, it stands out more than ever,
because the characters present are either ones we’ve seen time and time again,
like Franklin’s hood friend Lamar, or they are just, well, boring, like
antagonist billionaire Devin Weston. With the exception of perhaps Michael’s
family and Michael’s therapist Dr. Friedlander, the large cast of characters
that surround our protagonists’ is as underwhelming as the series has ever seen.
The story, meanwhile, is long and tedious, and descends to a conclusion that
one could see coming within the first five hours. But by the time Franklin
faces the final “decision”, the player has long since stopped caring, because
they know all the characters are mere rag-dolls, and all the stories that the
game nebulously dips its toes into will remain unfullfilling.
The missions, and there are a lot of them, range everywhere
from being eyes-popping-out-of-my-sockets awesome to brain-numbingly terrible.
The best missions revolve around heists, which are planned out by your crew’s
braniac, Lester, a character who reminded me, weirdly enough, of Bentley from
the Sly Cooper series, in both
purpose and appearance (Bentley is a turtle, by the way). There are two options for pulling off these
heists, a more direct way and a more subtle way, but the game includes a nice “Replay
Mission” feature so players can do both. These missions and the preparations
you make for them are thought-out, well-paced, and most of all, rewarding.
They also integrate “Hollywood” moments into the game better than most—whether it’s
jumping a motorcycle onto a train, parachuting down onto the top of a
skyscraper or escaping a fleet of police in an attack helicopter.
At the other end of the spectrum are the trivial missions,
and, as expected, you do some pretty stupid things in GTA V, like towing cars around and hunting deer. At times
you want yell at your character, “Franklin, you’re a fucking millionaire, why
are you wasting your time looking around a junk yard for a dime bag of pot?” But
trivial isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because, as much as we complain about
doing trivial things in the real world, we do them anyways—and we choose to
keep doing them, a sentiment reflected in many video game worlds––GTA V included. Trivial tasks are not leaving video games any time soon. In fact, as gamers, they are often something we cling to in search of more content.
No, what’s perhaps
the most disconcerting aspect of the game’s level design is the inclusion of a
Private Military Company known as Merryweather, because Merryweather simply
gives the developers a means to throw us into nonsensical gun battles that go
on for far too long. While Rockstar has improved leaps and bounds in terms of
shooting and cover mechanics, they still remain a weak point for the series,
and most of the action scenes digress into stale arena battles in which you
stay in one spot as waves of Merryweather soldiers attack you. These gun
battles come from a video game era past, in which enemies were not so much
intelligent, scheming opponents as irritating gnats, buzzing around your head
without rhyme or reason. Merryweather soldiers are just gnats.
Perhaps my inability to accept GTA V for what it is comes at the fault of its predecessors, in
that I had an expectation it would be as progressive as those games were or as Red Dead Redemption was in 2010. Am I
being overly critical? Perhaps, but one must be critical of a series of such
stature. Was the overall single player experience a disappointment? Yes. Is it
still unbelievably fun to go on a mass killing spree, then hop in your Rapid
GT, weave up and down streets and ally-ways to try and escape the numerous SWAT
teams and police helicopters on your tail? Hell yeah. The old ways are still
there, and they’re still fun, but a series must remain active and not get too
comfortable with what it has accomplished before. This is an affliction that
hampers many series, but one that Grand
Theft Auto had avoided until now. Unfortunately, GTA V is its first static entry, and we’ll have to wait for the
inevitable GTA VI on the next
generation of consoles, which will be the fourth generation the series has
spanned**, to see if Rockstar is able to take this series any further.
Grand Theft Auto V
Rated M for
Mature
Playstation
3 & Xbox 360.
Developed
By: Rockstar North
Published
By: Rockstar Games
*The first time was in 2004’s Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.
**The first Grand
Theft Auto launched on the original PlayStation and Windows Computers in 1997
A Night at the Theater...or, uh, A Day at the 'Mike
By Matt Marion
I
never saw “Avatar” in theaters. I didn't get to experience the nation-wide
satisfaction of having witnessed the best 3D-movie ever. Sure, I suffered for a
few months, but, eventually, it was released on DVD and luckily I have a friend
who buys DVD's. I watched it on a large flatscreen and soaked it in. After I
watched it I was awestruck, but without that nation-wide satisfaction.
Gravity
was my second chance. Respected friends and online critics raved for Gravity.
“It's a ride.” “An adventure.” “Alfonso Cuarón's space epic.”
I
arrived at a movie theater that required a distant memory to recall ever being
there. A shady Carmike Cinema lay undisturbed by the main road traffic,
allowing its inhabitants of mostly 60-somethings a safe hole to burrow into.
Exiting my Oldesmobile—driven by 60-somethings (I'm in the right place!)--gave
me a sense of camaraderie given the makes and models I was surrounded by. The
Carmike, or The 'Mike, as I've learned it to be nicknamed, offered a particularly
casual way of doing business.
Why
pay before you can come inside? It's cold out there. Come in, come in. While we
fill your bucket of popcorn to the standard 5 lbs., why don't you tell me what
movie you'd like to see. Oh, that rather large drink size to your right,
towering above the insignificant smaller portions? Yes, it is a liter. No, the
two liter doesn't come out for another month. Check back in when “Catching
Fire” premiers.
After
meeting with my party of 5, we entered into the hole that so many crave in
order to escape. Little did I know, this hole opened into infinity.
Through
my admittedly untrained eye for critiquing film, I would like to ask for
forgiveness of ignorance ahead of time. With that said...
Several
flashes nearly made my eyes permanently roll in the back of my head. Was this
Gravity at its finest, showing an ability to literally make the body illicit a
physical response? No, it turns out the source was just a few previews
involving a fresh-off-the-knife Michael Douglas, Morgan Freeman getting away
with being a retired Oscar winner, and some other guys I don't remember (I just
wanted to mention Red and Gordon). There was also Rocky VII, where Sly seems to
pick a fight with his former trainer, Mick, who comes back via time travel into
his 70-year-old fighting prime, played by another retired Oscar winner.
Eventually
the lights dimmed, I was cued to put on the glasses, and I was transported to
(I think) the Hubble Space Telescope. The rest is 100,000,000 dollars worth of
3D magic.
I
can't say much for the narrative, because other than Bullock's hyperventilating
and Clooney's too-cool-for-school-veteran-among-veterans-astronaut captain
persona, this movie really lacked in the story department. But the graphics,
whoa buddy! This movie could unleash an interactive theme park ride that'll
dick slap whatever Universal Studios ends up giving Avatar in 2016.
What
this movie sacrifices in plot, it more than makes up for in an emotional
experience, which is something I feel only an incredibly vivid 3D movie can do.
We all hang at the mercy of ZERO G's with Bullock, mutually relieved by
Clooney's voice. We sympathize with her hatred for that damn space tether and
its unyielding fibers. The terror of colliding space stations exists in silent
screams, mouths open but only for sucking in breath. It feels like Bullock has
an insurmountable speed bump every 15 minutes of the movie. Every time the
audience thinks, Oh, a space station, surely there's other people she can
re-group with, surely she'll have a training montage to get ready for Russian
space debris, surely—All wrong! She doesn't even get to land okay.
My
favorite part of the film was the ending. Not that I was waiting for it,
although Gravity makes you want to get off the ride the first time because you
don't know if you're ready for what Cuarón's going to do next. But
that's okay, because when it is over, you're glad you did it; and you'd do it
again.
Alfonso Cuarón’s visually sensational Gravity reminded me of the first time I saw Jaws. It comes from the same ancestral lineage as Steven
Spielberg’s classic thriller,in that
its plan is to throw its main character through a series of obstacles within a terrifying, contained
environment: the boat at sea in Jaws, outer
space in Gravity, and says, essentially, "let’s throw a non-stop mountain of trouble at this person, and see if they have the will to survive and make it home." Gravity executes this plan
with near-perfection, maintaining an edge-of-your-seat level of intensity throughout
its short 90-minute run time. Like Jaws,
the reason it succeeds is because it supplants an element of dread in the
audience’s head so strong that even when the characters we root for are
relaxing on screen, we can’t, because we always know that the giant shark is
still lurking, swimming circles around their feet.
The plot of Gravity does
not break any new ground, and mostly acts as a means to set up the aforementioned
“obstacle course” for Sandra Bullock, who plays first time astronaut Ryan
Stone. Stone has some personal issues back down on the blue planet, but those
elements mainly remain arbitrary in their need to project on Stone a will to
survive and a reason never to give up. George Clooney is the only other
character with a face in the film, and he's the aswer to the question: “If you had to
be stuck in space with one other person, who would it be?” He plays NASA
veteran Matt Kowalski, who is focused on breaking the all-time space walking
record, and whose super-cool and calm demeanor (also known as “Clooney-ness”)
acts as a welcomed counterbalance to Bullock’s space virgin strife.
I saw the filmin
3D, and while I still think this format oftentimes detracts from the visual
experience, it did not bother or distract me during the aesthetically beautiful
Gravity. I have never been to space,
a sentiment most of us can relate to, and have little to no knowledge of how
things actually “work” in space, but the scale and movement of people and
objects in Gravity conveys a strong
sense of realism. Despite its out-of-worldliness, Gravity isn’t sci-fi. The believability of the situation it
presents, even if it’s a situation that 99.9% of the population (you know, all non-astronauts) won’t have to think about on a daily basis, changes the way
the audience experiences its own dread.
The fear we would experience if a fleet of aliens with
razor-sharp tentacles coming out of their stomachs attacked Ryan and Kowalski
is much different than the fear we experience when Ryan slowly trots to a dot
on the horizon, a space station, as the oxygen in her suit dwindles. The latter
is more tangible, a claustrophobic dread that we can all connect with. Cuarón,
who also co-wrote, co-produced and co-edited the film, and his crew, which
includes cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, take full advantage of our own
claustrophobia, filming their characters with tight frames, and pumping up the
sound of each breath they take through the thin layer of glass in their helmets. The sound design, cinematography, and editing of the
film are things to be marveled in their own right. Like in his last film, the
apocalyptic and marvelous Children of Men,
Cuarón spares cuts like the astronaut with the dwindling oxygen tank must spare
breaths: don’t use them until they are absolutely, positively necessary.
It’s all very funny though, because outer space is such a
vast expanse. With the exception of Earth, there are literally hundreds of
thousands of miles of nothing surrounding our characters at all times, yet the
audience is overcome with a sense of claustrophobia throughout the experience. Gravity is frustratingly tense, but only
in the best way possible—it grabs you, ensnares you, and doesn’t let you
breathe until its final shot. But in that final “hero” shot, our survival is
celebrated. “We made it!” we say. And we release a huge breath and realize,
that was one hell of a ride.
Last season was magical. It was the year that my favorite team, and baby franchise, the Washington Nationals, became relevant within the national baseball scene. They were young, talented, and when the end of September came, they'd arguably had the best season of any team. They had, inarguably, the best pitching staff (okay, not "inarguably", but it was between them and the Reds), a knack for come-from-behind wins, a lights out bullpen, and despite the fact that the offense would come and go, they played with a reckless, energetic innocence that fueled the whole team, young and old, on a nightly basis.
I lived through most of it on the other side of a radio, catching almost all of the Charlie Slowes-Dave Jaegeler broadcasts...
Side Note: It disturbs me how awesome Charlie and Dave are and how terrible Bob Carpenter and FP Santangelo--the TV crew on MASN--are. I'd be willing to bet its the largest disparagement of talent between Radio and TV teams of one franchise in all the MLB. Super Side Note: Can we create a system for weekly broadcaster power rankings? Is Vin Scully immovable at #1? Is Tim McCarver immovable at 77,000? Super Super Side Note: That's not a random number, by the way, I could name 76,999 better baseball broadcasters than Mr. "Something to Keep in Mind" McCarver himself).
This year its been the same routine, mostly, although I've watched quite a few more games, but the mood is different. I know longer drool over when 7:10 pm will get here, nor do I get angry when I realize the Nats or on the road in LA (a 10:10 start time). I listen to each game, and I have a good time, mostly, but I know longer relish listening to these games. I do it out of necessity.My mood has reflected that of the team itself: that youthful, reckless exuberance has been subdued, as if, after winning their first division title last year, they became "too cool" for it (Side Note: this year's youthful exuberance title is going to be a down-to-the-wire race between the Red Sox--what!--the Pirates, and the Indians). The face of all this apathy: Dan fucking Haren. He was the addition to the Nats pitching staff this year and he has pitched exceptionally well recently. Too bad he was so atrociously awful the first 2/3rds of the season that his ERA still clocks in just under 5.00. The funny thing about Dan Haren is that his face when he's pitching "exceptionally well" and "atrociously awful" is EXACTLY THE SAME. Here is Dan Haren's face:
Here is Dan Haren's face after a win:
And after a loss:
When you google image, "Dan Haren having a good time", this is the 4th picture that comes up:
This guy has given up the 6th most homers in the MLB this year. Whenever he gives up one, whether its a game-tying three run shot in the seventh, or a meaningless add-on solo HR, he gives the same, "oh darn, there it goes again" expression. Hey wait! That expression, above, right there--that's it!
That's also the expression he has on as he walks to the dugout, as he shakes his teammates hands after the game, and as he's making sweet, sweet love.
The runner-up to this year's inaugural Dan Haren award is this man:
Rafael Soriano! No one is less excited to come into the game. His "I'm determined" face, as he walks out of the bullpen in the ninth inning, could easily be confused for, "you mean I have to walk all the way over there and pitch?" I think he started the "untuck" so that fans who'd just missed the end of the game could tell who won.
The interesting thing about these two players is that they were two of the four major moves the Nats executed in the offseason. They brought in a over-the-hill closer with a sad case of "Dan Haren face" and also brought in Dan Haren himself! And overpaid them both.
The other two moves they pulled off this off-season involved the acquisition of centerfielder Denard Span from the Twins, and the re-signing of first basemen Adam Laroche, who was coming off his best season in the majors. They came in third and fourth in this year's award race:
The acquisition of Span and re-signing of Laroche meant there were three guys for two positions, which meant the Nationals had to trade this guy:
MICHAEL MORSE! I mean, the guy's walkup song had turned into the rally cry at Nationals Park. "Take on Me" by Ah Ha may still echo through the stadium, but the man who brought it there is gone. It seems though that neither the song nor the man could be away from the other, as Michael Morse has struggled mightily this year in Seattle.
All of these offseason moves executed by GM Mike Rizzo, by the way, were heralded (by me as well) as sly moves that would improve an already improving ball club even more, and its completely ludicrous to claim that these four players' facial expressions are the sole reason for the Nationals decline this year. I mean, the clubhouse mood and feel has a limited impact on a team's success and failure, and the facial expressions of a few guys has little if any impact on the clubhouse mood of the whole team...but then again, lest not forget the powers we deal with...
"Gosh darn't. There it goes again!"
The season is not over. The Braves have won the division, but the Nationals hold onto a tiny hope of a wild card. They would have to overcome either the Reds, Cardinals or Pirates, who all play each other a number of times town the stretch, and who are all immeasurably more consistent than the Nats. But I'll keep listening to Slowes and Jageler on the radio, I'll keep routing for my Nats, and I'll imagine a world in which they pull off a miraculous stretch of wins against their sub-par September competition (mostly against their division--the worst in baseball), steamroll into the playoffs as a wild card team, win the Wild Card game behind a dominant Stephen Strasburg (who'll earn his first playoff victory), carry this momentum through the Division and Conference series until they win the Pennant!!! And then I'll imagine Dan Haren in this world. But I won't have to imagine. Because it will be this:
The Nationals win the Pennant! The Nationals win the Pennant!
