Image from Gamesradar (In this Spanish villa, there is no mi casa es tu casa.)

I’m sure it hasn’t been overlooked by most that the best Resident Evil games coming out as of late happen to be top to bottom re-imaginings of classic titles in the venerated horror franchise. Sure, I muddle my point by the remake of 1999’s Resident Evil 3 being the worst of the new games (and possibly among the worst in the series), but if you were to put side by side the new Resident Evil 2 and 4 to the brand new numbered entries: 2017’s Resident Evil 7: Biohazard and 2021’s Resident Evil 8: Village, chances are good that people would lean towards the remakes.

This attitude about and the reality of video game remakes seems alien to those who are familiar only with remakes as pertaining to movies. Almost all the time are film remakes dismissed or made to conjure groaning on the public’s part for echoing a perceived or actual lack of imagination and risk-taking on Hollywood’s part.

Sure, there are remakes that have become respected even reaching classic status like the De Palma Scarface, the 70s’ Invasion of the Body Snatchers and to some Peter Jackson’s King Kong. Two of the three remakes of A Star is Born are well-considered including the recent one with Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. Nevertheless, a cinematic remake has to work a lot harder to gain favor compared to a video game’s.

It’s not that no scrutiny is given to VG remakes, it’s more so concerning whether it brings anything new to the table, can improve upon anything from the original or if the remake is actually anticipated, crossing fingers they won’t screw it up.

Remaking 2005’s Resident Evil 4, widely considered one of the best games of its series and one of the greatest and most influential of all time, must have been a frightening prospect to the Capcom team led by Yasuhiro Anpo and Kazunori Kadoi. How do you properly remake a game that some consider perfect, groundbreaking and compared to earlier titles, accessible still to a newer audience, not to mention more readily available?

Capcom’s higher ups were so very wise to choose the Resident Evil 2 Remake team to be the ones to headline Resident Evil 4’s return. They are provably the best group of developers working on RE now based on RE2 2019’s reputation. It also made sense for them to be the ones due to RE4 being a narrative continuation for two of RE2’s lead characters: rookie cop and narrow survivor of zombie outbreak Leon S. Kennedy and Chinese-American International women of mystery Ada Wong. Having the same people in charge of both the story and gameplay for these two continuity intertwined titles (say that three times fast) was wise and an opportunity that didn’t occur with the development of the original games.

To put it simply when it came to Anpo and Kadoi’s meeting the challenge, it is an unbelievable victory. During my first of what was certainly not to be few consecutive playthroughs, I was in something of a mild shock as I realized they were succeeding. I didn’t know how you could make a new version of a well-aged game from the oughts’ work nearly as well as what I was experiencing. Well, I say that in spite of this year’s excellent remake of 2008’s Dead Space. I think it’s way too early to declare this effort better than the original game save in one department but my God it’s shocking that I’m even in the position to think such a thing.

The story of Resident Evil 4 and this could be said of most entries in the series is a B-movie with a first class production and on occasion first class scares to boot. Leon has spent six years since his traumatic night fighting to survive and escape Raccoon City training to become a special forces agent for the U.S. of A. This version of events makes it clear that Leon was forced to put his life in further danger due to the things he’s seen being for a lack of a better word “classified” during the city’s fall and it could be insinuated that he takes the job for the government to care for his two fellow survivors: the other playable RE2 character Claire and young girl Sherry.

If the training was dangerous, the missions he went on, including one backstory significant one, put him nearly in as much danger of dying as the horrors he faced in RE2. Nevertheless, Leon endured and survived. He proved his talent to be more than a product of chance on one night in 1998. Now, he’s part of the Secret Service and his first day on the job is once again to prove a doozy.

His mission: To search and rescue the President’s missing daughter, last spotted somewhere in the most rural, agrarian, stuck-in-the-past part of Spain conceivable. The most powerful nation on Earth sends in one man (albeit a proven badass) escorted by two Spanish police officers and assisted over the radio by woman-in-the-chair Ingrid Hunnigan, a rarely seen but nevertheless fan favorite.

The brilliance of the Resident Evil series, especially in this particular re-imagining is taking a worn conceit of horror media and adding in genuine horror and suspense mostly due to how you the player must literally interact with that convention virtually rather than simply observe.

Even if much of what Leon faces seems overly familiar in description to a horror know-it-all or know-enough, that still doesn’t do justice when you’re there in the thick of it with the bishonen-haired gaming icon and his beloved bomber jacket. Leon upon entering the spookier than ever Spanish forest soon discovers that matters are terribly off and the horror he has to survive is of a quite different beast from anything in Raccoon City.

The villagers of this seemingly ignored part of Spain are taken by some madness that compels them to kill anyone, anyone, that enters their territory. The two policemen that Leon was with don’t last very long, barely longer than the original game and soon our hero is finding himself frantically looking for a safe place that isn’t there in a new take on the iconic village fight.

I detailed my thoughts on this famous video game sequence when talking about a scenario that acted as spiritual successor in a game that was itself heavily inspired by RE4, RE8: Village. There were deliberate nods to that original moment, of being trapped in a place full of monsters trying to break in and kill you. Even the resolution to that moment that is out of the player’s hands is played much the same way.

It may seem repetitive of Capcom to remake wholesale a game that was given a spiritual successor in 2021, but the truth is for all of RE8’s qualities, it still isn’t exactly RE4 nor was it really trying to be. It still had it’s eye on being the eighth Resident Evil at the end of the day. For all the changes one can list in this 2023 take, Resident Evil 4 Remake is still Resident Evil 4 at its heart. You know that is true as soon as a new Leon Kennedy enters a familiar only mildly altered village full of very angry….residents.

The sense of you and Leon being in seemingly never-ending danger is propelled through the game’s modernization of the idea and it is here where “modernization” is anything but a dirty word. The villagers are faster, more agile than last time. The ways they can attack and grab Leon are more varied and more likely to make you initially panic. Entering a building to bar off the windows and doors to fend off the horde gives you even less time this go around to catch your breath as in half a minute the house you’re in is breached and one of the townsfolk is bearing a very red-tinged chainsaw.

Old tactics I had to hold off the assault straight up did not work. Old avenues of momentary escape weren’t as reliable. Ultimately I knew that all I had to do was maintain, wait for the nearby church’s bell to ring which in turn ends immediately the villagers attempts to skewer Leon. In an even eerier trance, all of the townspeople up and leave through the town hall, utterly ignoring Leon as they chant religious tracts in Spanish.

Even knowing what caused the bell to ring and why the townspeople are the way they are for years does little to diminish how unsettling a moment this is and Leon’s more believable appearance and confused expression adds new weight to a classic moment. Then to top it all off, as the villager closes the door, leaving Leon all alone, he utters a corny yet no less valid one-liner 18 years after it was first said. Then the title flashes confidently onto frame. The rest of the game would continually reassure me, but it’s here where the veteran player knows that Resident Evil 4 is back. And it’s teeth are ever sharp.

Resident Evil 4, then and now, is partitioned into three distinctive acts, titled after the location you’re in. You start off in the “Village” region, which for many continues to be the part of RE4 that best defines it to this day. Then, you enter a massive Spanish castle, full of horror both macabre yet goofy, almost as if Sam Raimi punched up the script at this junction. Then it ends on the generally polarizing “Island”, more industrial and military focused and it’s here where RE4 forecasts its’ series future as action over horror for the next two main entries.

Resident Evil 4 for 2023 manages to do an incredible feat in maintaining the main story beats and locations while somehow making it less tongue in cheek camp silly. There are still moments that will remind you of how absurd the original game could end up being yet many will miss that side of RE4, considered by them to be one of the game’s defining traits. Personally, I was just too impressed seeing a game pull off a more grounded version of the one out and out wacky Resident Evil game that was embraced for that reason.

The writing and performances of all involved are convincingly believable, fitting with the same tone that has been established with the modern games. The Leon you knew from the new RE2 is back, a little gruffer, more world weary for reasons that are sorrowfully apparent. Nick Apostiledes’ take on Leon has now become my favorite version of the character and it’s not just that his and the writers interpretation strikes a chord that wasn’t there before but it’s the consistency.

Leon in the games he appeared in before the Remakes were voiced by three separate people and with it came drastic changes in personality. It’s kinda hard to connect with the old Leon over the course of the games he was in (RE2,4,6) because his manner and voice was too different each time. I get that a considerable amount of time passes between each of these games, but if you contrast those three voices, you may feel like I do that you end up with Three Leons.

One of the things I was hoping for if Capcom should risk redoing Resident Evil 4 was not just seeing Apostiledes’ take return in a follow-up story of some kind, but to create a better continuity in and of itself. That alone does not justify a remake of course but it was one area that could be explored and thankfully that was realized. By the end of this RE4 Leon now feels like he has a cogent arc going for him, how the events of this game really do reflect back on RE2’s.

It’s for that reason that the new Resident Evil 4 now might be one of the best narratively drawn up games when before it was a gloriously obvious excuse plot for cool, spooky and stupid set-pieces. It’s another reason why I’m somewhat down for Capcom risking another version of the oft-ridiculed Resident Evil 6 just to see what this Leon would be like in that game’s scenario. Oh and I’m an affirmed RE6 apologist, I even have an entry on this blog about that.

Another thing that makes the plot of RE4 more worth paying attention to than before is that more than a few characters go through re-characterization, some more drastic than others. The most noteworthy is the President’s daughter Leon is trying to rescue, Ashley Graham. The original Ashley has been widely lambasted by many for her annoying attitude and voice and for being more of a gameplay prop than a real character. For many sections, you would have to escort her through enemy territory and make sure she doesn’t get hurt, killed or re-kidnapped (at least, in parts where she isn’t scripted to be kidnapped back anyway). She has her defenders admittedly, some proclaiming the criticisms of her to be exaggerated and I eventually got so good at playing RE4 2005 that she stopped being a serious nuisance for me even in the infamously harder sections.

This Ashley on the other hand gets to be both gameplay mechanic and an actual character. She’s now not annoying at all, helpful in ways that are more pronounced in the story and the interplay between her and Leon feels more organic. Capcom probably looked at the many games where you have an (often) female companion to the player character like in The Last of Us, Bioshock Infinite and the modern God of War titles and thought of implementing improvements from those games into this one.

Sure, you still have to be more mindful of Ashley’s condition than you would LOU’s Ellie and Lev or GOW’s Atreus (You don’t have to worry about Bioshock’s Elizabeth period) as this is still a horror experience and Ashley’s involvement means you now have to consider her safety on top of yours which was already harrowing enough a prospect. But unlike last time, where saving Ashley from a cultist whose grabbed her, you won’t think “sigh, I’ll save you” now it’s “Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” Ashley’s improved characterization and her own little story arc actually makes you forgiving of the moments where she could’ve literally been a challenge for you to overcome.

This could well be testing the waters for a remake of Resident Evil 5 but the expansion in character and role of Luis, the mysterious, supposedly dashing Spaniard ladies man and secret scientist, makes a case that maybe that game being reimagined from the ground up wouldn’t be so terrible. Luis is a Mauser-wielding man who Leon meets early on in the game. He soon becomes one of the very few that Leon can trust but even then there’s something about him that keeps our hero on guard.

Luis and his relationship with the setting of Resident Evil 4 has been made deeper, more considered which is in line with basic expectations if you wish to be more than a lazy 1to1 redo. His connection with this trapped in the past portion of Spain is more intertwined and he is even made to connect with lore from earlier in the series which doesn’t come across as a contrived retcon. Instead it makes more sense, hell, one of the underlying accomplishments here is making this game more sensical.

In the original game, Luis dies suddenly near the mid-point in a shocking moment that when you rewatch it is both an obvious reference to a moment from Aliens (who doesn’t ape that movie?) and has a (possibly) unintentionally lewd manner to it. In the new take, as the trailers had already revealed, Luis gets to live past the point he originally died. I won’t say anything about whether he survives this version, but the moments where you and he are teamed up against the infected villagers and cultists is not just an expansion off of the original game’s acclaimed cabin holdout section, it could be seeing how players respond to sections where you are not the only capable person on the field fighting enemies.

Resident Evil 5 introduced Cooperative play to the series and in doing so brought in the character Sheva as a brand new figure. Player 1 would control veteran RE hero Chris Redfield and player 2 would control her for the entire duration of RE5. When people think of positives to bring to the first unabashed non-horror main entry for the series, it’s function as a co-op action/adventure game with horror elements is seen as it’s greatest strength. People still on occasion play Resident Evil 5 to this day despite having been released back in 2009.

Playing RE5 by yourself (which has largely been my lot) is not nearly as fun nor does it showcase the entry’s genuine additions at all. You ultimately end up with a shorter, less impressive RE4 albeit with improved graphics which for the most part are still pretty sharp all things considered. Having Luis in RE4 23′ be an AI partner for Leon for a relatively lengthy section of the game seems to be a test run not so much for what new Co-op RE games could be like, but if it’s possible for an entire new game to work like that section.

Some would say that having a constant partner at your side detracts from the sense of isolation that horror games feed on. By isolation, I mean there’s no friendly faces at your side or at least not for long periods. That’s one of the points taken against 2013’s Dead Space 3, where it’s own inclusion of a co-op version of it’s campaign was seen as part of why Dead Space ending up dying as a series. For a time, thankfully. Ironically, like with REs 5 and 6, the best way to play DS3 was, yup, with a friend. It’s a strange paradox of things working and not working.

I’ll save my thoughts on what further remakes Capcom should or should not pursue until the end, but at least this probable testing of an idea also gave us a chance to spend more time with a character that honestly did leave RE4’s story a little too early.

In terms of further characterization, I’ll say mum for those who still haven’t played yet, but I will say that two major antagonists in the game have essentially new backgrounds and motivations. Almost new characters for that matter. There could be some lore purists that turn their nose up at these changes (not that I’ve heard them at all for that matter) but what I like about those changes is that they, one, make a little more sense within the context of what is occurring and, two, it makes Resident Evil 4 feel a little more tragic.

Much like how I said the slight narrative changes to the Dead Space remake increased the sense of tragedy and sorrow from the original, RE4R tweaks what potential sadness could be found in the game’s backstory and extends it to both heroes and villains. Leon himself as discussed earlier is a figure who in spite of his nearly unshakable stoicism and stronger courage is a man who has been though hell so much that he feels more weary than spooked.

This is something that a theoretical RE6 remake could touch upon and maybe even a new numbered title featuring him but more than anything else he is a man growing increasingly tired with the weight of surviving horror, again and again. Fellow protagonist Chris is also noted to have this growing fatigue as the series marches on, but with the new direction for Leon, the cracks, however slight, could be hinted at.

Sure, someone could make the watertight counterpoint that it’s Leon struggling to deal with PTSD from Raccoon City. This is actually in the text of the game as the opening monologue Leon gives shows how six years later, he can’t let go of the many lives he failed to save in Resident Evil 2. All the worse since he was a rookie cop and joined with the express intention to help others. Sure, he did manage to save some people like Claire and Sherry. It wasn’t enough.

Maybe both of these things about Leon and where he’s at mentally can be applied but what ultimately matters is that this is a Leon you feel sorry for, no matter how much fun you’ll ultimately have in his shoes. The original RE4 Leon was an utterly confident, unfazed badass that wisecracked because he could. He had conquered his fear and now he was almost kind of having fun half the time one could argue in classic RE4.

This Leon while more professional and weathered by past experiences feels more human, more willing to take the situation seriously because that’s how he stays alive. He still wise-cracks and wise cracks good, but this time it sounds more like letting off stress from stuff that would keep me up at night if I had first-hand experience with RE4’s monsters. This Leon is conquering his fear and his self-hatred for failing to be as much of a protector as he had hoped.

Now, let’s talk about Leon and a survivor of RE2 he suspected had lived but remained doubtful could have. Ada Wong, the ever red-clad femme fatale of the franchise has a reputation for being basically the Catwoman of Resident Evil. RE4 further emphasized it by giving her a grappling hook, which sure sounds like a Batman thing but whatever. Some players of the new RE4 have taken to harassing her voice actress Lilly Gao online for her supposedly tepid, bored performance, to the point she closed her Instagram account. Putting aside that I would not condone this even if her performance were lackluster or outright bad, she’s perfectly fine here.

She feels like an extension of the new Ada we were given with the same voice actress in the new Resident Evil 2 from 2019. The complaints probably extend more to how hostile she behaves when she comes to her interactions with Leon, fewer here than the original. Ada, while likely developing genuine feelings for Leon’s “good boy” personality and selfless actions, still played him as a pawn in her subterfuge mission to steal the virus that causes the hubbub that ruins Raccoon City.

In spite of her deception, Leon still feels sorry for her apparent death at the end of RE2 but a certain moment hints to him that she improbably didn’t die. Six years later do the fellow RC survivors meet again and unlike the original take on Leon and Ada where Leon is a confident hunk and Ada is a sultry spy wearing a cocktail dress in a quite mission-inappropriate fashion, Leon and Ada are mutually more abrasive to each other. If there’s any Batman/Catwomanesque flirting going on, it’s far more subdued but not necessarilly absent. Certain looks the two make can suggest something is still there.

It’s really for the best that Leon and Ada are framed this way. In Leon’s experience, Ada is a duplicitous agent that was trying to sell a terrifying medical creation to some likely spurious third party. She used Leon emotionally to get what she wants. Now, six years later, she’s back clearly trying to get something from the cult responsible for his current predicament. Leon is on guard, wondering how she’s gonna take advantage of him next. The tricks she used on him before won’t work again obviously, so what’s her play now?

It might be that upon returning to the narratives of RE 2 and 4, Capcom recognized how toxic Leon and Ada really are as a potential coupling, and in a more realistic take on the games, make Leon more cognizant of how unhealthy and possibly lethal it would be to really give her a chance. Leon’s sad connection with Ada adds to Leon’s tragic story as well. Considering how young he was during the events of RE2, between 18 and 21, this could’ve messed up his sense of trust when it came to relationships, romantic or otherwise. Sure, he probably has a tight connection with Claire and Sherry but he wasn’t with those two all that much in RE2’s story. He didn’t even meet Sherry until he was finally escaping Raccoon City.

So, no, Gao’s performance as Ada Wong is perfectly fine, a natural continuation of what she would be to Leon and vice versa if they were to meet again. Admittedly, Ada does seem to have less of a presence in RE4 23′ narrative then before but with the near inevitability of a future DLC containing her Separate Ways campaign (Leon even namedrops it at the end), we might get a deeper picture in time of Ada’s contribution to the story, let alone perhaps her true feelings about Leon and a nagging self-spite over using a guy that she actually likes.

Having replayed Resident Evil 4 2023 many times at this point in writing a review, I’ve come to realize that the new version is shorter than the original. Some think that classic RE4 is a little overstuffed here and there and the Capcom team likely heard those complaints and used it to make a new take that is still lengthy but more compact. This move is made justifiable due to how like with every modern RE the game encourages you to complete the game faster, under a certain time based on chosen difficulty, all to unlock rewards both useful and cosmetic for Leon and Ashley. If you want Leon to sport his 1930s’ Gangster look with tommy gun and Ashley her hilarious yet handy suit of armor, you gotta beat the game faster and better now, rather than just period like before.

Unlike my completionist streak I accomplished with RE2’s remake, I’m more doubtful I’ll ever 100% RE4 23′ content. Beating this game on the hardest difficulty under a certain amount of time will give me the adorable “cat ears” for Leon which also gives him infinite ammo for all weapons but considering that part of the appeal of a Resident Evil game is the challenge of maintaining your finite resources, I wouldn’t be keen on unlocking something that all but removes the challenge though, true, you have to work your Secret Service ass off to get it.

With the tightening of RE4 in this modernization comes the removal of certain moments, some that may hold a special place in veteran’s hearts. Entire boss battles are gone, though thanks to the potential Ada campaign on the horizon a certain boss that was notably missing from Leon’s journey could well become Ada’s opponent. The game’s lore even namedrops this tardy adversary so it may not really be an omission rather a rearranging.

RE4 23‘ does a lot with its rearranging or reconsideration of existing elements from RE4 05′. A section late in the Castle part acts as a chimera hybrid of three separate scenarios Leon once confronted. The clock tower, the giant statue of the Castle’s villain Salazar and the circular tower stairwell and elevator that gets you to fighting Salazar as a boss are now all in one. The clock tower before was a puzzle area where you had to shoot wooden boards blocking the machinery. Now, it’s all set dressing as Leon can’t affect the clock at all.

The Salazar statue has been drastically shrunk and no longer inexplicably starts chasing you in a manner that is one of the looniest in the entire series. Now, it stays in place but it’s head will rotate, bellowing fire out of its mouth as you ascend the tower. As for the elevator tower, that remains most faithfully kept though the Donkey Kong barrels the cultists would drop down the stairwell via lever have been replaced with giant spikey balls.

This amalgamation of disparate parts of RE4 is part of making the intended speedier runs for multiple playthroughs more practical to accomplish and it tightens the pace, correcting a long standing complaint that for me was more nitpick if even that.

Some areas are just plain gone, though they could have some manner of return for Ada’s campaign. Some are less likely than others like the brazenly nuts “Lava Room”, where RE4 really stops trying to be consistent, all for the sake of gameplay variety, which is a fair enough goal for a game from 2005. Part of me does sorta miss those moments, if only because it does make the new version feel shorter, even if there is a perfectly solid reason for it. To perhaps compensate, there are entire sections which are borderline one to one in layout from the original, which could stand as testament to how well aged those parts remain, how well they still mesh with Leon’s more agile control setup or because these moments are just so caught up in the game’s identity.

As for things that I really did miss though this is much rectified by the painless process of playing classic RE4 which is again much more readily available than older games, was the humorous interactions Leon would have with two of the game’s bad guys, Napoleon complex-addled Ramon Salazar and the main antagonist Osmund Saddler. Whether in person or over Leon’s radio, the often funny conversations Leon would have with these two feel like something really is missing in comparison to other cuts.

True, Saddler is a much different person in this version so the radio calls just wouldn’t work the same but I still think they could’ve had Leon and Salazar interact more. On my first couple of playthroughs, I almost forgot Salazar was in the game. The original really wouldn’t let you and Leon forget and that adds to the particular charm of classic RE4’s mid-section. Sure, when Leon does interact with Ramon now, it’s still not bad. The boss battle almost overcompensates with regards to Ramon’s manic frustration with Leon not dying by his hand. It’s great stuff albeit tethered to one of the remake’s more difficult battles.

As for whether it is actually more of a survival horror game, well I would certainly say in parts it is scarier. The new version of the segment where you control Ashley is nerve-wracking in new ways. It’s a combat devoid area that plays on being all but helpless against a kind of enemy I don’t want to give away. Sure, foreknowledge of the original game should already tell you what Ashley’s up against. But how it happens is different enough and scary enough where not only is Ashley more vulnerable than before you also have to solve puzzles amidst that anxiety.

The puzzles are overall more difficult, especially on the first couple of runs. Only a handful of puzzles from the original were difficult and even the hardest one has a solution so easy to utilize that it makes it a cakewalk once you remember it. Certain puzzles, particularly of an electronic kind late in the game continue to hassle me and one for an optional treasure can bust your brain good.

On the subject of treasures, RE4 incentivized replay value due to the presence of the ever mysterious Merchant, whose pirate like voice is doubled down on in the Remake though his voice is (controversially) softer. He’s also much more talkative when perusing his wares so I can imagine more than a few players getting annoyed with him. I like him nonetheless as not only does his appearence and his teleporting shop guarantee you’re in a safe place, it also gives you a chance to unwind: check your attaché case containing your weapons, supplies and ammo, save your progress, buy some new stuff, upgrade your weapons and sell stuff including the many beautifully realized treasures.

Five of the merchant’s locations have the returning shooting gallery, completely pirate themed and while it certainly is a massive tonal shift from this darker take on the game, it yet rewards you with challenging ranges to conquer, all to acquire tokens which when placed in a vending machine get you a grabbag “charm” to attach to your attaché case with a special benefit. To showcase that the developers really care, they’re all figurines modeled after characters, enemies and items from the original game.

It’s the Merchant and his services which is more or less the core reason behind RE4’s immense ability to make you return again and again. Even when the horror diminishes, the fun doesn’t or at least much slower. Certain weapons are kept out of reach until New Game Plus and even the unlockable weapons can be upgraded such as a knife that can’t be broken.

That segues into one of the Remake’s best additions, if not it’s best one. In recent years, parrying enemy attacks has become a more popular game mechanic due to how it naturally coerces the player to train their reflexes and to take even less dangerous encounters seriously. I don’t know which game started the trend of parrying getting big but one likely culprit to spark the trend was the Soulslike titles from…From Software. It’s more of a strong recommendation in titles like Bloodborne, Elden Ring or Dark Souls but it’s a necessity for Sekiro.

Save for the hardest difficulty, RE4 Remake allows you to not always be completely on the mark when pressing the button to parry. Some fights, like a plot significant one (or two) are more demanding of what you’ve learned through using your knife to ward off attacks big and small. The expanded use of the knife helps forge RE4R as having something distinct about it mechanically, not just from the game it’s remaking but in the series as a whole. It ties in with the background behind Leon as a survivor being trained to be an agent after Raccoon City and upon using the knife as a handy tool in close encounters it shows growth both for Leon as a character and as manifestation of the player’s own skill.

It’s more than just ensuring that an enemy attack won’t hit, if you time it right it even gets you the chance to counterattack and even instantly down the enemy. The innovation with the knife is proof that you’re not just getting RE4 again, you’re getting it back with a new technique that makes the combat loop even deeper than before.

In spite of the shorter length, RE4 Remake is still capable of wowing you with it’s implementation of enemies in their environments, in how they complement the player no matter what your status is with regards to ammo, weapons and supplies. Like the original, they are hidden exploits or tricks that can be used not only to make a potentially grueling section less so but to also make new runs in the future more viable for a game plan you formulate in your head.

In spite of the praise I’ve heaped onto the new RE4, and you better believe it’s already a strong contender for Game of the Year, I still have cold feet about declaring it better than the original. I say this and I haven’t talked about the strong new soundtrack where even brand new tracks sing and how some of the puzzles can themselves be used as weapons against enemies. The thing about the original RE4 is that it is a game that can’t be truly replicated in one respect: it’s groundbreaking position.

It would be far too much to expect any developer let alone Capcom to make a game that would change the industry like the first Resident Evil 4. In more or less one area, it’s use of an over the shoulder third person camera, it established a template that is still being used today as standard practice and I see essentially no reason why it should ever go away. Not unlike how Super Mario 64 introduced us to how to properly, freely navigate a three dimensional environment to the point that non-Nintendo games took note like GTA developer Rockstar, RE4 ensured that one of the go-to ways of controlling a character in a video game would be a variation of over their shoulder.

Gears of War, Uncharted, Batman Arkham, Mass Effect, The Last of Us, Dead Space and later iterations of already existing franchises would permanently adjust their use of the camera to be modeled after Resident Evil 4’s innovation. Games like these do not come around often, even less so than before.

That legacy being replicated was far too tall an order so Capcom did the smartest thing and refined and experimented on what Resident Evil 4 specifically did for itself as a video game, on its own stand alone merits. The intent was to take what worked 18 years ago and make it work within a modern game engine with a reworked script, vocal performances and a different tone regarding horror. That intent has led to what may be the best modern Resident Evil experience, even if it is a recreation of the game that shifted the series for a time from its roots.

It’s too early to call this better than the 2005 version, it’s too early to declare it among the series’ overall best games or even among the best games ever made. But it’s clear respect for a half serious, half absurd masterpiece makes it a masterclass for getting at the heart of what makes video game remakes so wonderful when done right.

Do I really want Resident Evil 5 or 6 to be remade? Half of me says yes, half of me says no, no, NO. There are ways I can see those games be more so “reimagined” than remade like the games we’ve gotten recently. Many would however say RE5’s not exactly sensitive or accurate portrayal of Africa might by itself be a dealbreaker, let alone that it’s plot out of all the games feels like an 80s Saturday Morning Cartoon with an R-rated aesthetic. I mean, it ends with you punching a boulder out of your way inside a very, VERY active volcano. All while fighting social Darwinist Johnny Bravo.

It’s a miracle that Resident Evil 4 could be restructured into something more sensical. I don’t know if you can take what I just described about Resident Evil 5 and make it even a quarter grounded. As for Resident Evil 6, my apologetics aside, it’s utter craziness is part of what makes it the game it is. It’s approach to combat and movement is predicated on it being the “foaming at the mouth” member of the RE family of games. Making that more serious or believable would involve a total reconsideration of what RE6 even is and could in turn make it essentially a brand new game all it’s own. That description actually does sound inviting I can imagine but would that in turn honor what RE6 actually got right?

Some have suggested two alternatives to RE5 and 6 getting the reunion tour. They could look at older titles that have not gotten remade like the much requested Code Veronica from 2000 to even a second remake of the very first game, redone top to bottom in the RE Engine that has fueled the series’ entries since 2017. The other option would be to stop at this point. After all, Capcom will soon be turning its attention and hopes to do the same to you with the tentatively titled Resident Evil 9.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for Resident Evil as a franchise to go on a hiatus after that, to give you, me and the possibly exhausted people at Capcom a reprieve from the series. Of course I’m not saying no new REs after 9 but a good couple of years to just let that world of survival horror rest.

Every franchise, especially a horror franchise, needs to release the tension eventually.

Do we still need Batman as an icon of popular culture? Do we even need a new Batman movie considering how recent the last two cinematic takes of the character have been? At the end of Matt Reeves’ three hour re-re-reintroduction to the dark knight, the answer is in some places an enthusiastic “Yes” and in others an apprehensive “Maybe”.

The world I live in in 2022 is not a world I would wish for anyone. It is a world that is slowly dying in part due to human caused climate change and our infuriating refusal to take immediate and meaningful action against it, though seemingly intractable internal corruption in our global system perhaps speaks more to the state of the stomach-churning crisis than the actions of the average, powerless human individual.

One of the factors that leads to my and your future growing increasingly bleaker is that the rich not only refuse to use their considerable means to directly challenge what should be the unifying threat of our time, but they helped along the crisis through their support of the industries, oil and gasoline, that most contributed to it. All against the renewable and clean initiatives that would replace and best shore up our chances of a survivable future.

So, why should I expect myself to further ingratiate myself to a fictional representative of that class of people who is slowly murdering me? Well, because in spite of Bruce Wayne the Batman being part of that upper echelon of people, he is an icon who can be framed into a figure that would and should fight the same systems that lead to such ruin. More than Iron Man, I believe that Bruce Wayne can be a class traitor for our times.

Bruce Wayne lost his parents as a consequence of Gotham City’s decline, both moral and economic. Reeves’ latest take mercifully spares us the moment where Thomas and Martha Wayne get plugged much like how the Tom Holland version of Spider-Man deigned to not show us Uncle Ben getting killed in much the same way.

The takeaways to a childhood traumatic event like that are many and varied, though one’s position in life can create certain perspectives which might take emphasis over others. At the start of the movie, Bruce Wayne/Batman narrates to us that he has become a symbol of fear to the criminals that lurk on Gotham’s many dilapidated streets. Echoing the immortalized assumption that “criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot”, he believes that what he must do is drive the fear of the Batman into their hearts so they plague Gotham no more.

In that same narration, Bruce yet admits that two years in, his plan is failing miserably. The city is still the gothic cesspool you know, the streets haven’t become safer just because Batman prowls them. All he’s doing is smashing his bat-fist against the wall.

Reeves does all of us justice let alone for Batman by finally, purposefully focusing in on the one key aspect of the caped crusader that was either missing or only played with: being a detective. He’s yet to be the world’s greatest detective, as Bats makes some prime grade mistakes in this film’s investigation, but cut him a break: he’s still early on in his bat-career.

The earlier bat-films to include investigative vigilantism mostly pertained to the Dark Knight trilogy, but only in parts. Batman v Superman’s Batfleck also did some detective work but it was hampered by this Batman being an emotionally vulnerable, gullible moron who was stringed around by Mark Zuckerlex. Aside from that, big screen Batman was often a more reactive figure in facing his rogues’ gallery and it stands to reason that some detective work might’ve occurred off-screen.

Having Batman face a terribly deep rabbit hole into Gotham’s morally bankrupt history through solving the Zodiac-like killings and brain-games of Paul Dano’s utterly terrifying Riddler helps accommodate this new take on Batman as being one that is more deconstructive and self-critical than earlier works.

Batman’s vengeful fixation on the lowly poor thugs and mooks that slew his parents blinds him to the darker reality of what he should actually be facing. Namely, how the rich and powerful of Gotham, alongside its mostly bought off police force and organized crime families are the true Hydra that he must face. That, much to his own personal horror, his family’s own standing in the city contributed to the nightmare he is facing. In a sense, the Waynes might’ve brought their own heinous murders upon themselves through the system they either didn’t challenge or didn’t challenge strongly enough.

The Riddler, like Bruce Wayne, absolutely seethes with hate for the powers that be that led Gotham to its current state. Unlike Batman, the Riddler is more than OK with murder to make his point, to attain the justice he believes is sorely lacking.

As much as Dano’s performance does register genuine horror on my part (I don’t even mind that his style reminds one of Nolan’s take on the Joker..), I felt at the bottom of my gut that I couldn’t totally disagree with his motivations. In fact, I dare say you’re missing the point if you don’t realize that Riddler’s own deep dive into Gotham’s rotten core is in fact correct.

In spite of Riddler’s brutal killings of what are yet clearly awful people and his terroristic ambitions that become more and more clear as the film goes along, his expose of why Gotham is the way it is is actually a net positive. The sad truth is that if Riddler didn’t kill or have those destructive ambitions, he could’ve been a genuine ally to Batman and those in Gotham who want a better tomorrow.

This line of thought is actually present in comics Riddler, in that he doesn’t necessarilly need to be a bad guy and could in fact be in invaluable to heroes like the Bat-family and even the Justice League. His own childhood trauma from his never pleased father and a desire to intellectually one-up Batman keeps him from a nobler place in life. A lot of Batman’s villains could just as easily be heroes (or anti-heroes) in Gotham. Some actually have like Catwoman, Harley Quinn after letting Joker go and nominally even Poison Ivy.

This version of Riddler echoes Hegel’s concept that an antagonist can positively influence the direction the protagonist takes in the future. A similar observation was made about how The Legend of Korra’s villain for each season influenced the titular character’s own worldview for the better. One of the most redeeming aspects for one of the most personally conflicting pieces of entertainment I’ve experienced.

It just so happens that this Riddler also has childhood trauma, albeit of a different sort from Bruce’s as well as a raging resentment for how the latter’s treatment following that trauma was a lot more swell than his. This Riddler also carries echoes of recently created Batman villain Hush, whose motivations are also reflective of resentment for Bruce Wayne and his lifestyle. The film more or less admits to this connection with some pretty blatant visual references. In fact, a recent direct-to-DVD animated Batman movie that loosely adapts the Hush comic storyline makes that connection between Hush and Riddler even more explicit.

Speaking of Catwoman, Zoe Kravitz’s depiction of the character is the most true to the text I’ve yet seen on the big screen, much like how the depiction of Gotham City is the truest as well, with only hints or perhaps visual gags to past versions like Chris Nolan’s over-dependence on making Batman’s home look or just be other known cities like Chicago.

Kravitz’s Selina Kyle oozes the alluring charm of the comic version that made her into one of Comicdom’s most immediately recognizable sex symbols, let alone one of the most significant female characters ever created for the medium. More than past iterations like the surreal yet literal Michelle Pfeiffer version or Hathaway’s more burger than cat take, Kravitz manages to be the femme fatale with very much a heart of gold crossed with cat themed burglar we all know her for the most.

Her interplay with Pattinson’s Batman is the closest to the comic text and also helps reflect the sense of accuracy that permeates their scenes together, as if you can just feel the self-assuredness that yes, they’ve really gotten it down this time. It also helps that this Catwoman, despite her deep ties to the conspiracy that embroils all the subjects of this movie, feels like her own person more than past movie Kyles, that she is not revolving around Bruce Wayne’s life. Like a cat and like the Catwoman we know, she does feel affection and connection to our caped crusader, but she is by no means bound to him. She is no dog.

The three figures of Batman, Riddler and Catwoman all represent three different perspectives to how Gotham’s fall has affected its denizens, rich or poor. Wayne as Batman is a symbolic figure, a force that haunts the criminals of the night and scares them away from breaking the law. The Riddler wants a more direct approach to targeting Gotham’s rot and his investigative nature obviously mirrors Batman’s. Catwoman does not have the same vendetta as the first two and only gets involved when she is forced into it by external factors. Despite her affection for the caped crusader and even admiration for his mission, once she is no longer directly affected by what Gotham is doing to her, she has no qualms leaving the city to its probable fate.

Despite the thematic interplay between the three, The Batman is a story of an ensemble web of figures, all stuck like flies in matters either of their own volition or not. It comes to be a story of fighting the spider that made that web and which approach is best.

The approach to justice that is often the main point of a Batman story reflects upon my own frustrations when it comes to what the approach justice in the real word should take. A combination of time or lack thereof, punishment in proportion to the crimes and whether the actions society could take to better itself do not also poison it in the process. There’s also the grim likelihood that there is no way to motivate the people of the world to take any action either due to lack of time in which the action wouldn’t even matter or that we are too distracted by little entertainments to focus on what should be attempted.

My mediation on that combined with my own political biases puts myself in the uncomfortable position of appreciating, even in some areas loving a movie like The Batman that maybe I shouldn’t as much. You can argue that I’m simply at odds with what Matt Reeves and the writers earnestly believe is the right course of action for a better world, that I’m placing too much emphasis on what I think the right thing to do should be when others either don’t know of those options or don’t agree with them.

The issue yet is that The Batman is consciously or not espousing a worldview and as it stands now in 2022, with both climate change and a horrifying rise in American fascism, the problem could be not that The Batman holds a bad worldview, it may not hold the best or most needed one.

In one area, the portrayal of the GCPD. Of course, Gotham’s police being (initially) corrupt and bought off by the mafia is a tried and true component of Batman as a medium critiquing the police. But it is yet the most obvious approach, perhaps the only approach that has in the past been broadly accepted by the American public.

The assumption of most depictions of police in comics storytelling is either as a force for good, a neutral force that still fights on the right side, a force that is basically good but for the purposes of a superhero story woefully unable to handle a situation typical to the genre like a supervillain or a force that is indeed corrupted not beyond salvation.

Jim Gordon, the ever eventual Commissioner for the force, is the “good” apple among the mostly bad ones which I suppose is actually truer to reality than not. With help from an outside force like Batman, vigilante or not, he helps mold the GCPD into a proper policing force and a valuable ally for Batman’s mission. This enduring partnership helps in turn give Batman legitimacy, as the exception to the rule that vigilantes are always more trouble than they’re worth.

In light of recent exposure of American police behavior, through highly public murders and abuse of citizens, how the smartphone era has better shed light on what was likely always there, the issue cannot just be that an institution like the police starts off good but is slowly corrupted. What recent examples in the past decade alone have shown is that the institution itself has an inherent perniciousness.

Perhaps as Reeves’ trilogy means to go on, it can and will dive deeper into the inner workings of not just how Gotham’s story of corruption goes, it could delve into how the institutions we hold for granted create the very problems we either pretend don’t exist or wish to have resolved. Perhaps it will take more than good men like Jim Gordon and Batman being around to make the GCPD and by extension Gotham better, maybe a different type of holistic approach to policing itself will be what assures Batman’s dream is more likely.

If you’re doing a narrative that is very much allegorical to the utter frustration and weariness many have to the status quo, it helps to actually give attention to the proposals that have been made to better society. In spite of where Bruce Wayne comes from, it is best to picture Batman, if you are interpreting him as as genuine good guy, to have his journey confront these topics and maybe even embrace them. If that can be done while still being a badass crimefighter who punches back evil with his fists and his brain, I would see that as a win-win that might make Batman a more relatable force rather than merely a fascinating one.

Michael Giacchino’s excellent score and theme for the Batman reflects off of the two core ideas of what makes Batman appealing on some level no matter what your political compass would indicate. A force that strikes from the dark against evil while not himself being so while also being a force that wants a place like Gotham City to shine, maybe for the first time and in more ways than one. A dark knight that yearns yet for the light. I would hate for the ultimate takeaway of Reeves’ three movie narrative to lessen the musical meaning behind that theme, make it a narrative that doesn’t honor the very best interpretation from that track of music.

In another comic property, in a whole other cinematic universe for superheroes, one of its villains stated to its heroic enemies that “You want to protect the world, but you don’t want it to change.” In spite of that villain Ultron’s plan being not agreeable to anyone but the suicidal minded (giant rock kills everything on Earth), can it really not be said that that line encapsulates one of the biggest complaints many have had with the superhero archetype: a lovable, protective figure who has the power to protect the innocent from harm but will not use that power to better the world and in turn lessen the necessity for most instances of protection?

That concept has been explored certainly enough with stories like DC’s Injustice showing the downside of the Justice League enforcing a “better” world through their authoritarian control of it. And yet, maybe what superheroes should be today are not a series of watchful guardians only, but forces for positive, necessary change.

These beings who use their power not to enforce a new world but influence the masses towards one. In this day and age, that message would reverberate far more than you might think and the ending of the Batman inspires some amount of hope that that is actually what is being aimed for. Not a complete hope, still a chance of the bat-ball being fumbled indeed, but it is in the end more than I was expecting.

The Batman, in and out of universe is an exercise in wrestling with what Batman should be at this stage in the 21st century. It’s conclusions will not and have not hooked everyone but it is still better than never wrestling with them at all.

Batman is often called the best superhero or at least the very best at what he can do as a superhero. In relation to martial and mental prowess without enhanced properties and to his ability to stand fast to his own integrity, undeniably . Robert Pattinson’s Batman is all that but trying (emphasis on trying) to be more than before.

Turning Red (2021)

Turning Red, Pixar’s latest movie, is many things.

It is proof that they’re still the masters of computer generated animation nearly 30 years after their start. It is proof that they’re by no means a “safe” purveyor of ideas and imagination if the high conceptual explorations to be had in 2020’s Soul wasn’t a tip off. In spite of the missteps or outright bad films that have been made under their banner since 2011’s Cars 2, they can still make thought-provoking, engaging entertainment for the whole family even when directly addressing a particular point in time in a person’s life.

2009’s Up focused in on the emotional plight of a nearly 80 year old man, filled with regret for the things he wasn’t able to accomplish before he reached that age. I am not yet a senior citizen in case you were wondering but I still found Carl Frederickson’s conflict very moving. Perhaps it was because it was tackling issues that we may one day face or could face before reaching Carl’s age. Or maybe we were won over by other topics Up has to offer. Or we just enjoyed it for how fun and funny it was. Or maybe as it often is, all or most of the above.

Turning Red centers on a 13 year old Chinese-Canadian girl going through a moment in life that all who reach that age will experience in some way. There is just a mystical Chinese twist on that “moment” in growing up that is indeed very out of the ordinary. Her ability to turn into a giant red panda upon puberty can be seen as analogous to more than just one thing though all sharing something in particular.

You might think a story about female puberty in particular would be inaccessible to a grown male like myself, but much like Carl Frederickson and his old age hangups, there is something relatable yet to Mei’s own take on adolescent arrival and what it does to her friend and family connections.

Female puberty is denoted as having one distinct difference from male puberty, we all know what it is. Turning Red brings it up directly in a manner that is still all ages appropriate. To those who think that it is a subject matter which is not at all appropriate to a young audience, I might remind you that it is actually the age group that would benefit most from this film’s thematic exploration.

All teenage girls start experiencing that certain thing upon becoming a teenager so having that be featured in a movie involving teenage girls makes plenty of sense. It’s that this subject matter has never been presented before in a movie like this that is perhaps where the “controversy” stems, or a notion that certain natural aspects of the growing human body should never be expressed outside a conversation between a kid and their parents. There can be a discussion on how to handle it of course through media but it is quite self-limiting to have certain topics be off limit for concerns some may have for “appropriateness”.

Turning Red nails not just how to handle this subject matter in a “PG” setting, but also confronts the personal embarrassment one may feel not simply of it being revealed to their friends but by having their parents inadvertently expose it, as one notable scene features. Despite being a cisgender male anxieties, annoyances and concerns over my own puberty and the emotional and physical messiness that comes with it were aptly reflected in Mei’s own struggle.

Like a good Pixar film, it’s not content to stop at just the growing pains aspect of this moment in Mei’s life, further exemplified through it featuring a “Teen Wolf” panda transformation, it also tackles expectation of role in life, old and new generations and their ever varying sensibilities about basically anything and what yet remains good about old traditions and what should instead be cast aside for something different. If nothing else, Turning Red presents a novel examination of the very old chestnut of “be yourself” while also expressing that a seemingly frightening aspect of yourself is only frightening if you let it be so.

One interesting wrinkle to my appreciation for Turning Red is in the form of its humor, definitely centered around the tribulations of being a adolescent girl. Mei’s relationship with her three friends contains much in the way of young teenage girl slang and expression and some of their verbal humor isn’t exactly laugh out loud funny. The distinction that keeps it from being cringey is that there’s an organic feel to Mei and her friend’s interactions. You can tell or at least I could tell that a lot of Turning Red came out of director Domee Shi’s own childhood. Considering her birth year of 1989 and the film’s time being set in 2002, we are looking at a semi-autobiographical movie, with some considerable liberties taken, like the whole giant red panda stuff of course.

It wouldn’t take a genius to recognize that Shi’s own life and friends she had are reflected in the cast of characters that make up Turning Red. How her friends acted are retold in Mei’s friends. Knowing this background makes it feel like a more authentic take on childhood in the oughts’. I didn’t have the same early 2000s’ childhood like Mei’s nor the same type of friends, but I can definitely feel the accuracy due to experiencing that era for myself.

It was nostalgic but not a frontloaded example. It’s a feature, not the feature of this film’s colorful depiction of Toronto. This might be the warmest depiction of a Canadian city I’ve ever seen and it does wonders to remind you that New York is hardly the only melting pot city in North America alone.

As you would expect from a film about a Chinese family not living in China, it deals with a third or fourth generation Chinese-Canadian girl not just trying to control the panda within her and her own new feelings that come with puberty but her own personal desires and interests independent of the expectations that come from being in a tradition minded Chinese household.

Sandra Oh plays Ming Lee, the very strict but still loving mother of Mei who very much expects the most out of Mei, especially when it pertains to her role in basically fulfilling the role she herself lives. One, as future dutiful wife and family raiser and as a manager of the family’s temple. Because a Chinese-Canadian developed this movie, it feels a little less uncomfortable watching a movie, coming from the heart no less, that confronts shall we say conventions of the Chinese or Asian family dynamic, namely the high demands that parents place on their kids.

It has become a stereotype for the parents to expect their kids to not just be smart but to enter a field or career that comes with a great yearly income. There’s a blink and you’ll miss it reference for this demanding lifestyle when while looking under Mei’s bed, you can see a test that Mei completed with a B+ score. To people in most demographics like my own, a B+ is very much a commendable score in education. For Asian families like Mei’s, if your best is under A….

Again, if a non-white director or writer was to touch on this subject matter and they didn’t do so tactfully at least, it can be seen as playing into derogatory stereotype. For Domee Shi, it’s admittance on her own life experience at least, that sometimes stereotypes can be correct or at least not wrong, and better yet her film promotes not a resigned acceptance on that grueling expectation but a pronounced retort, presented with all of Pixar’s eye-catching bells and whistles.

Despite not having those kinds of demanding parents in my childhood, I can still relate to the still relevant message that it is OK that you explicitly do not become your parents. That it can be psychologically unhealthy to be tied to only what your family wants and never what you want or believe you’re good at.

A quite surprising third act twist on the mother’s part reveals that among the themes of puberty, childhood friendship, self-control and familial/cultural tradition, there is also the universal topic of resentment, resentment that can be borne from those who had no ill will for you in how they molded your life. That alone can take on a whole host of applicable places to explore, making Turning Red a much more intellectually robust film than at first glance.

Turning Red is a swift, sound and fuzzy examination of subject matter that has proven to unsettle those that are not accustomed to seeing such matter explored. It shouldn’t need to, as this is a film meant to make both kids and adults ponder matters that may very well be pertinent to their life at this very moment. A film to both entertain and open up your mind to the obvious and not so obvious matters in how life naturally happens. In other words, it’s a Pixar film in the truest sense, even on the surface it appears a very different beast.

Next time, a long overdue entry in the 80s’ retrospective.

Originally posted 2022-04-13 01:45:01.

After another delay from work and real world anxieties, I’m back to getting back to the pop culture of a “simpler” time and will follow up next time with a look at some new stuff released this March. First, a visually arresting arrival into cinema du look.

Diva (1981)

Jean-Jacques Beineix, the director of this picture, is often credited as the man who began the cinema du look trend in French cinema. A trend that would last throughout the 80s and into the 90s, possibly culminating in one of the best known modern French movies, Leon the Professional. That film’s director, Luc Besson, is one of the best known living French filmmakers and contributed to cinema du look before Leon with titles that I will certainly be viewing down the road like Subway and La Femme Nikita.

Beineix passed away at 75 this January, shortly after I had seen Diva. It’s a shame he’s not more well known but that may be in part due to his small filmography with his first film here being his most significant contribution. Those that took after Beineix in turn took the attention, his legacy assured through influence.

Diva is an absolutely beautiful film, that takes its cold ,blue, dreamlike imagery and gives it, at least to me, a peculiar warmth, making it dare I say inviting. It is married to a riveting story that yet leaves me apprehensive as it’s central figure, Jules (Frederic Andrei), is both in places a sympathetic youthful Parisian and in others a obsessive creep.

Jules is completely enamored with the African-American soprano Cynthia Hawkins (Wilhelmina Fernandez, an actual Soprano and it shows), the titular diva. He constantly plays her music on his mobile tape player, both while out and about as an urban postman and while he is at his garage/parking lot hybrid that acts as his home. On the one hand, it is established that Jules has a true appreciation for Cynthia’s talent as a soprano.

On the other hand, Jules is so taken with her that he basically becomes a stalker. He hires a prostitute to imitate the look of Cynthia. He steals her gown from her dressing room after the concert. Even more concerning is that Jules actually strikes up a genuine relationship with Cynthia after meeting. It doesn’t get sexual( at least onscreen) but at the same time regardless of earnestness shared beneath the two in the end, it is very alarming this film is so okay with Jules’ obsessive interests and in how it ultimately rewards him for it by the end.

Keep in mind that the year Diva released in France, President Reagan was nearly killed by a celebrity obsessed figure called Charles Hinckley Jr, all to impress the one he was irrationally enamored with, Jodie Foster. A year before, Mark David Chapman murdered the man whom he obsessed over, John Lennon. I’m fairly certain people in France were aware of these incidents and the uncomfortable implications it brought to the table.

Jules, in spite of the extremes he is shown to do, never kills anyone for Cynthia and certainly not Cynthia herself. If anything, Jules is made into a victim as he finds himself ensnared in a criminal conspiracy involving a corrupt detective in the Paris Police and a prostitute. Ironically enough, Jules’ own time with a prostitute has him record an incident by accident that gets him stuck in that quite stressful predicament. A film to be covered later down the road, Brian DePalma’s Blow-Out, also has a similar premise of an unsuspecting person recording sound only to capture something audibly not meant for strangers. Also, Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation.

His attempts to both show his affection to Cynthia and to get around the Hitchcockian conspiracy gets him involved with Serge (Richard Bohringer), a very French Bohemian artiste and his Vietnamese-French teenage muse, Alba. Unlike with Jules and Cynthia, the implications between Serge and Alba are less…concerning. Or at least I damn well hope so. Otherwise, I might feel really shitty about appreciating this movie.

Serge’s lot is where most of Diva’s expertly filmed cinema du look feel comes around the best. Three moments that stick out at the lot is Serge showing Jules the proper way to cut a croissant, doing a giant picture puzzle with help from Alba all while discussing how to help Jules and him taking a bath in the middle of the room with a great spotlight on him, while intercutting with a moving lava lamp that looks like a level measurer. Great stuff and not really artsy-fartsy. Just soothing.

In spite of the French moodiness that you can already infer from everything I’ve mentioned, it is a film that can actually be thrilling as an action movie and even with some surprisingly deft comedic moments near the end. The header image here is that of Jules racing through a subway station on his moped while trying to outrun who he thinks are hired thugs relating to the conspiracy, which he had been evading at an arcade earlier.

It’s in fact a good detective who is trying to help Jules, but, hey, misunderstandings leads to great drama and by extension, a really well shot chase sequence that is just as mesmerizing as Serge just sitting and relaxing in his tub.

The ethical takeaways of Diva are split down the middle. The film is certainly anti-police corruption( as you would hope it would be) and the characters meant to be good are mostly actually really good. But when you factor in how unquestioning the movie is with Jules’ obsessive desire for Cynthia and how it doesn’t really punish him outside of him accidentally getting stuck in a Hitchcock plot by way of French aesthetic, it’s makes Diva a must see experience with one very stark asterisk.

Jules’ behavior would be very troubling in 1981. It would be a humongous red flag in 2022. I will not chalk it up to cultural differences between America and France here. Obsession and its actual ramifications are universal. No amount of expert, genre defining film-making can absolve that.

Deathtrap (1982)

Deathtrap is one of two Sidney Lumet films to be covered in this installment of 80s Retrospective. Lumet is considered an important contributor to American cinema, starting off with his cinematic adaptation of 12 Angry Men. Aside from that, I had also seen Network, a film about 70s TV executives which has become alarmingly more relevant in the 21st century than it was then. Starting in the 80s, Lumet started to have a string of rough patches for the rest of his career, which ended with the ultimately well received Before the Devil knows you’re Dead from 2007.

Before the “rough patches” began in earnest, he opened up the decade with Prince of the City to be discussed right after and Deathtrap, a film that is both tribute to Michael Caine’s earlier picture Sleuth and the French classic Les Diaboliques. I haven’t seen Sleuth, nor its needless 2007 remake also starring Caine, but after I saw Deathtrap I saw Les Diaboliques and well, seeing that after put the former film in a new context.

Both films have one insane twist, one that is so good it’s not worth spoiling despite the age of both features. Just mentioning that there is a twist will perhaps ruin it somewhat as I was completely not expecting one in Deathtrap’s case. I did know Les Diaboliques had one but knew no specifics about it. The French classic’s take on a twist that Deathtrap essentially copies or reinterprets more like does involve suspending some amount of disbelief due to the circumstances surrounding what exactly happens. It’s still a real shock and does give the movie considerable rewatch quality if only to notice the clues that validates it.

Deathtrap centers on a British-American playwright (Michael Caine, but you already figured that out) who is suffering from a low point in his Broadway career. One of his students (Christopher Reeve) is plagiarizing his work and decides to invite him over at the behest of his wife (Dyan Cannon) to their residence in Montauk on Long Island’s eastern edge. That residence has a windmill because of course a theatre writer would have one.

In a moment that does make me think Rian Johnson definitely saw this and used it to inspire Knives Out, the playwright conceives of a plot to get revenge on his upstart student. Like Knives Out, the house is filled with stage props of various weapons, all sharp enough for, say it with me, MURDER.

I honestly struggle to think of what else to say about Deathtrap without giving up the game so to speak. While Les Diaboliques’ twist happens at the climax, Lumet distinguishes his version by having the twist happen midway through. Half of the film I can’t really talk about sadly, as I do think it’s something you have to see fresh to get the most out of it.

I suppose I could bring up that Lumet has a proven talent for making the most of a limited setting. Like his debut masterpiece from 1957, 12 Angry Men, the majority of the film occurs in a somewhat small jury room where as promised, there are 12 male jurors and due to a combination of it being a sweltering hot Summer with no A/C and frustration over the complicated case presented to them, get kinda angry.

In spite of most of it occurring in a generally claustrophobic environment, you never get bored or distracted by the limited scope. If anything, it makes it even more focused, more stressful, being stuck in this place with a bunch of guys who don’t really want to be there for the most part but have to, all while deciding if some teenager gets a guilty or innocent verdict.

The majority of Deathtrap is within the playwright’s house, but due to its peculiar setup, again with an honest to God windmill whose inside is the bedroom and a low-key Tudor feel, helps make it a not boring environment for the proceedings on top of the merit of the actual proceedings. Go ahead and see it, especially so you can see a pre-accident Christopher Reeves and pre-Alfred Michael Caine share the screen together, all so you can make jokes about their DC comics connection.

Prince of the City (1981)

Prince of the City is inspired by an actual internal affairs case by NYPD detective Robert Leuci, who opened a boatload of corrupt worms when he turned state’s evidence against his fellow drug-busting team, who had taken too much money off of the crooks they took down, among other things.

Treat Williams, who I only recently learned did stuff before a silly ocean based horror movie I’d heard of offhand from the late 90s called Deep Rising, plays Daniel Ciello, based off of Leuci. Initially, Ciello is all too happy to bend the rules to have him and his fellow NY Blues enjoy a little something more off of their drug busts.

They also use junkies as informants to successfully pull off their busts. Buuut, doing so involves suppling those same junkies with heroin and on one fateful night involving a meetup to give his informant some drugs, that same junkie beats up his girlfriend and Ciello forces himself to let it happen, all because of the process he and his buddies use to get information.

Eventually, Ciello realizes he’s had enough and wants to bring evidence to the District Attorney of New York to end his drug squad’s operation. Hopefully in a way that won’t incriminate his friends too severely. Of course, you already know it won’t, it couldn’t be that simple and Ciello was probably fooling himself thinking that way.

With a runtime that approaches 3 hours, you know by that alone that this won’t be a simple task for Ciello. Having to put on a wire, obfuscate what he’s doing to men that, dirty or not, he does consider his brothers. But, the conscience he has grown forces him to go deeper and deeper and deeper into how big a hole his team had actually dug for themselves. It disrupts his life and the lives of his family, especially over those “Witness protection” woes to consider and eventually, he sees members of his team not just turn against them, betrayed by Daniel, some commit suicide either out of guilt or because they can’t bring themselves to turn evidence like him.

As you have already recognized, Prince of the City is a quite dark journey into the often subtle corruption those in law enforcement engage in to the point where they feel more loyalty to each other than you know, the law they’re supposed to be upholding. A war between two different loyalties or as they say in Samurai movies, two different masters. One cannot serve both if both do not serve each other.

Keep this in mind as a product of an actual internal affairs case that happened in the late 1970s and was adapted and abridged into a Sidney Lumet picture in 1981. Consider how even though the behavior Ciello’s squad is called out on is immoral and something that cannot continue, consider how sympathetic the portrayal of Ciello and those criminal cops still remain.

Sure, there’s like a couple of crooked cop figures that aren’t in Ciello’s team that are framed far less sympathetically, particularly an overweight one (that also resembles Uncle Vernon sortof) that Ciello goes to town on in one heated sequence at a Chinese restaurant.

You can either view this through the lens of not so much Lumet but Ciello’s perspective and the naturally pro-cop attitude he would still cling to or you can view it as an American cultural approach to how we broadly view the boys and girls in blue. One that is often idealistic, more willing to begrudgingly concede to when genuine corruption or outright breaking of the law is exposed or made clear but always with the understanding that it’s an aberration of a system that ultimately does more good than bad. Maybe that is easier to believe if you’re white like me.

In light of the past decade, what with how social media and portable cameras make it so easy to so how much brazenly awful stuff the American police get up to regularly, Prince of the City’s framing of the police and their nature, while not wholly untrue even now, feels more pernicious today to me. We get regular reminders of police brutality on minorities and occasionally even on Caucasian Americans. Some of these abuses extend to either manslaughter due to disregard for subject’s safety or blatant murder, as made evident to all who would see through George Floyd.

Even worse is how often, beyond these criminal even authoritarian uses of force against American citizens, there is the mountains of evidence proving how often the police protect their own in defiance of justice or what the will of the people actually expect or assume they do anyway. For those who decry the calls for defunding or abolishing the police, consider that they say this not in the heat of the moment through righteous rage alone, but through the understanding that for incidents like Floyd, Breanna Taylor and countless others to be prevented as much as possible in the future, the structure and function of the police must change.

Money should be redirected to other areas of our institutions perhaps to make fewer the number of criminal situations police would have to face in the first place. Maybe a cop is not best equipped to help with every domestic disturbance like say a mentally ill person who needs psychiatric care rather than a police officer for which force is the first thing that comes to mind in response. If all you have is a hammer….

In spite of my “controversial” statements made over the past several statements, Prince of the City does end on a note that I found rather profound. It’s almost the inverse of the scene in The Martian where Matt Damon’s astronaut survivor of Mars is telling a classroom about his experiences and all the questions they are eager to give him.

At the very end, after Daniel Ciello has done all that is needed of him to get his squad properly indicted and brought to justice, he is at a classroom for up and coming NYPD officers. As he goes about how he would operate as a police officer, one of the students contemptuously leaves the classroom upon realizing who the speaker is: the guy who ratted out his friends, screw the reasons.

In spite of what Ciello did being the absolute right thing and dare I say it a real necessity for a police officer to follow on principle, he is dismissed by some due to the whole idea that doing the right thing involves going against your supposed friends. Ciello, like perhaps the real life Leuci, looks utterly alone, despondent once the student storms out. Here is his reward, for trying to be as good an officer of the law as he once thought he was.

For a dude like myself who often feels completely alone, isolated on a political level to those in my immediate circle of family and friends, that ending moment was the most relatable that Treat Williams’ Ciello got. An important lesson, doing the capital letter right thing will lose you respect, it will lose you friends. Should you still do it? How you answer that question will say more about yourself than almost anything else in life.

Mashaal (1984)

Capping off this latest installment of 80s’ retrospective is a 1984 Bollywood crime thriller that combines political corruption, journalism ethics, youthful free spirited street gangs and shady underworld crime into a fun, typically complex Bolly-blender.

Vinod the moderately pudgy but upstanding man of the law who runs an independent newspaper business, the titular Mashaal, in downtown Mumbai is trying to bring down the head of organized crime in India’s then largest city. S.K. Vardhan, who kinda resembles an Indian Christopher Lee, wants to stop this change-minded rabble rouser and will stop at no sordid end to bring down around his ears Vinod’s life.

In the meantime, while blowing off all of Vardhan’s threats which become increasingly more extreme, Vinod befriends a vagabond of the Mumbai mean streets, Raja. Despite engaging in criminal behavior, all for a livelihood, Raja and his gang of friends are all nice guys, who due to the societal standards of life in 1980s India, don’t see any alternative. As you are conditioned to expect, they express their lot in life through song! The musical beat that punctuates their musical montage honestly sounds like it is from West Side Story, particularly a portion of “Maria”. If you see this movie and have heard that song from WSS, you will know immediately what I’m talking about.

Eventually Vinod and Raja come to meet each other and the former believes wholeheartedly that Raja can turn his life around, get a real job, go to College, actually achieve what I guess you could call the “Indian dream”. Raja of course initially blows off Vinod’s claims that that is possible for him, but a certain camaraderie between the two blossoms where eventually of course he does start to go down that better path.

However, Vardhan eventually pushes far enough that Vinod’s life becomes utterly ruined. He loses his home, his business, his wife becomes ill and dies on the streets, Vinod pleading in vain to the surrounding people of Mumbai to help him. After her passing, Vinod decides the only to stop Vardhan, get true justice is to start his own criminal enterprise, taking over all of Vardhan’s rackets to take him out of the picture. Vinod’s transition to becoming a mob boss on par with Vardhan happens hilariously fast through montage, once again showcasing how as long and longwinded a Bollywood plot structure can be, there are moments where suddenly everything zooms a bit in the proceedings.

What punctuates Vinod’s rise to a new vengeful power in the Mumbai underworld is that the manner of fighting he uses to personally take down the liquor and gambling dens is this kind of funny looking martial arts where they zoom up close to our hero in a manner that makes him look silly rather than threatening. It doesn’t help that again, he is a pudgy looking middle aged man to boot. On that same note, he does resemble an Indian Charles Bronson, and everyone knows he was an out and out badass middle aged dude if there ever was one. Basically, Vinod is believable in the role he is given around half the time for the Bronson factor alone.

More than the prior Bollywood films I’ve covered, Mashaal really focuses on Indian morality or at least Indian standards of personal morality in a way that can come across as a bit too morally puritan for I imagine even the average American viewer from the 80s, let alone 2020s. As mentioned earlier, Vinod singlehandedly battles his way through a bunch of liquor and gambling dens.

Obviously, America has had moral grief with liquor before (Prohibition, baby) and we still to some extent get flustered over the topic of gambling and how legal or defensible it is on not so much a legal but ethical level.

However, America drinks freely with basically no chance of a roll-back to the prohibition era on the horizon at all and gambling remains legal as can be attested by several major vacation destinations, Atlantic City and Las Vegas most significantly.

As for my personal take, I obviously believe liquor should continue to be legal and gambling should be allowed too. I am much more morally opposed to gambling due to how much it can screw you over either through poor luck or addiction.

Considering the to put it extremely lightly not-great economic standard of my generation, I find gambling much harder to swallow as something to partake in. If you’re rich, well, I see no pragmatic concern of course, but for a guy like me it comes off as an insult to those poor or at least not well off to promote gambling to those who have every reason not to play with their money. That doesn’t mean it should be banned. I mean, just the black market factor alone makes banning pointless and honestly a legal and regulated system better curbs chances of someone really getting screwed.

Of course, Indian standards of morality are not American standards. Due to what I am assuming is ethical guidelines inspired by the Hindu faith, the act of drinking alcohol and gambling is seen as quite bad, though the depiction of the acts are not censored at all to Mashaal’s credit. It’s not that hardline I guess. One of the most famous examples of self-censorship in Indian cinema and I doubt it’s only in Bollywood( India is home to quite a few major film industries due to the many prominent languages for a nation of over 1 billion people): refraining from couples kissing. At all.

While kissing became acceptable in American cinema by the 1920s, and even more pronounced with the overly grandiose style seen in the Golden Age of Hollywood, what with the swell of music, kissing for any reason is just not done in Indian filmmaking, even now. There have been some exceptions like the extremely controversial Kama Sutra: A Tale of Two Lovers starring a future Game of Thrones actress of all people, but yes, you are not likely to see locking of lips for any reason in this side of World Cinema.

Mashaal makes a blatant joke about the enduring practice where Raja tells his love interest that he wants to kiss her like it’s an American movie. Breaking the fourth wall, she responds back this ain’t an American movie now isn’t it and cue romantic Bollywood dance number in its stead. This continuous practice I’ve always found more fascinating than frustrating for myself considering that as Raja all but states, the Indian public is exposed to non-Indian movies regularly.

One of the earlier Bollywood films I’ve reviewed, 1980’s Shaan, becomes a Bond movie out of nowhere at the midpoint. Last I checked, the Bond series is known for having kissing scenes…..among other things. Clearly, Indian audiences and Indian filmmakers appreciate the Bond series in spite of all those taboo things 007’s filmography features. I have now way of knowing if India censors 007 films for those moments but that would cutting up quite a bit since the “taboo” stuff can also contain plot details that are important.

Take the moment where in From Russia with Love where Bond beds the Russian agent Tatiana in her bedroom (one of the key seduction moments in the series, a moment that is actually used during casting of new James Bond actors in fact). This moment which eventually leads to sex offscreen contains a key plot element that is needed for the audience to know. Do Indian audiences just turn their noses up at these scenes and enjoy the rest? Bond sure does imbibe in gambling and drinking too, but I guess it shouldn’t come as that big a surprise that James Bond 007, the most significant heroic seducer in cinematic history, found a way to seduce the Indian moviegoer into liking his movies.

The film ultimately culminates in a really violent but engaging final battle at a newspaper printing factory with Vinod and Raja on one side and Vardhan and his men on the other. On the topic of what is permissible for the Indian viewer, surprisingly harsh violence, stuff that would warrant either a hard PG-13 or R rating in America is viewed as “acceptable for all viewing audiences”, based on the rating disclaimer at the start of the movie. Considering how pacifist Hindu teachings in my readings have been, it is rather curious that bloody violence gets the thumbs up but banal if romantic kissing is given the thumbs down.

Obviously the history of India, like all human history, is filled with violence, sometimes borne out of necessity through self defense, often not because Indians are ever human like us. It’s just that I find it humorous the priorities the fictional representation of adult subject matter other cultures can showcase. America most certainly has and maintains certain hang-ups about various subject matters (select responses to the recently released Pixar film Turning Red for example). I would love to hear out the rationale from an Indian filmmaker about why X is fine but Y isn’t.

If you have the spare time and this is almost a given for the average Indian film, Bollywood or not, give Mashaal a shot. It’s melodramatic but fun take on a morality play which is actually a common trend with the 80s Bollywood films I’ve viewed so far, is worth the price of admission. No other culture I can think of makes long films worth it like India’s. Considering the sheer number of movies they produce, more than I can ever see, it is an art they got down pat.

Originally posted 2022-03-23 15:19:58.

I have been distracted from doing a post following my Chinese New Year entry due to reasons big and small. I have the typical questions of enthusiasm,, other things I want to do in my decreased free time and work stuff. Then there is the existential fears over climate change (and mankind’s horrid sluggishness towards confronting what should be a unifying threat) and wouldn’t you know it, full scale war on Ukraine from Putin’s Russia.

Empathy and sympathy reasons to pay attention aside, Russia’s widely condemned invasion of Ukraine gained extra amounts of scrutiny due to the fact that the aggressor has a nuclear arsenal, the world’s largest in fact. One must without exception tread carefully when dealing with a nuclear power. Whether by intent or by accident, once the nukes fly, it is extremely unlikely an end of the world scenario won’t materialize then.

And on top of all of that, I have a cold which has further dimmed my mood and my outlook in general. Why should it matter to me to write about recent pop culture when shit of this magnitude is in my metaphorical peripheral vision?

Well, because getting this done clears me up for future blog entries like the new Horizon game and latest Batman feature. And it’s something to do that doesn’t involve surfing the web or playing a game. It puts my mind off things that should be in focus but not so much it debilitates matters

Let’s start with the latest Star Wars product under Disney, representing the highs and lows of the brand as it stands now.

The Book of Boba Fett’s wild inconsistency in quality is baffling. One of the memetic badasses of Star Wars, one who was that way before memes were even really a thing, should’ve had a wild, exciting and rougher ride to partake in then other sides to the Star Wars universe.

We consciously forget that the Boba Fett of the original trilogy was in truth not all that great. He stood around all cool, rarely speaking, did admittedly manage to track the Millennium Falcon to Cloud City and took a frozen Han Solo to Jabba. After giving him to Jabba, he stuck around as muscle and ultimately made a fool of himself in confronting our heroes over a giant mouth. Even before a blind Han Solo accidentally sent him tumbling into that immobile sandworm, he wasn’t making the best impression fighting Luke.

True, he was facing a jedi master, but considering the slowness of how Boba was facing a Jedi, he basically had it coming and not really because he wasn’t the good guy in the equation. It’s a miracle that Boba Fett’s legendary status endured for decades when his contribution in the canon ended with him screaming hilariously as his jetpack flies toward a sand barge, slams into it and then slides right into that giant mouth, capped off with a burp.

It’s his physical appearance and how his depiction in the now largely non-canon expanded universe portrayed him that led to him maintaining a status well above “joke”. Robert Rodriguez, Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni’s depiction of Boba as a seemingly reformed yet ass-kicking figure in Mandalorian’s second season inspired confidence in the further adventures of the most significant ancillary figure of the Original Trilogy not called Wedge Antilles.

Now, when people think of Boba Fett, they think of one scene where while teaching Tusken Raiders to use speeders, he gives them visual cues in what was ultimately seen as a goofy manner: “Like a Bantha”, says Boba, replete with a derpy expression off of Temuera Morrison’s face.

We see a figure that goes from silent badass to bumbling crime-lord in the making, hardly inspiring the same quiet awe of either the Boba we once knew or thought we once knew. In truth, Boba Fett’s haphazard and successful by sheer luck conquest of the Tatooine underworld might actually be closer to the Boba that is undone by a blind, hapless Han Solo.

Ok, so maybe Boba isn’t quite the super professional bounty hunter we thought he was. Doesn’t mean that his new adventures following his embarrassing defeat in Return of the Jedi can’t be awesome right? Aside from three noteworthy moments (raiding a desert train, taking out a bar full of bandits by himself, and killing the Sarlacc that nearly digested him), no.

Instead, Boba, with assistance from a cooler bounty hunter portrayed by Mulan’s voice actor, a big, slow-motion Wookie bounty hunter, a bunch of high-tech teenage street urchins who seem out of place in this universe, two fat barely agile green pigs, a better helmeted bounty hunter with his adopted merchandisable son, and finally a rancor, stumbles his way to victory over a crime syndicate over reasons you’re barely given reason to care about.

Sure, the Pyke Syndicate is an unabashed and provably ruthless crime group and they do hire one of the most badass characters Dave Filoni created for the Clone Wars show. But, other than that Boba could be a better alternative to them in regards to morals, in terms of competency his narrow victory in the end, that came off the backs of a bunch of more competent figures, would not inspire confidence that he keeps himself in that position for long.

The show ultimately does give you a general idea of why Boba would bother going off in this direction following both his defeat from Han and his time with the Tusken people, but ultimately the explanation does not translate into feeling involved with the why and more often than not my mind wandered to the how too often. It was rather amusing how many people just up and decide to join Boba’s cause when the incentive he offers really wouldn’t make them that committed to him, if I’m being honest.

The Vespa kids, often called the Power Rangers of Star Wars though that might be being disrespectful to the actual Power Rangers to be honest, after one conversation they have with Boba, show no indication of doubting their role as servants to him. Boba gives them plenty of reasons to consider jumping ship, considering how hilariously he’s presented as the underdog in the scenario and to boot, not the most sympathetic one.

Like all streaming shows, the entirety of the Book of Boba Fett was pre-produced, all seven episodes made before release. And yet, as has been brought up endlessly since it occurred, the two penultimate episodes suddenly switch gears to a bunch of star warriors we would be more interested in watching. Suddenly, Mando, the man known as Din Djarin, is back and with it the tone and quality of the entire show suddenly screams up into the air. Despite barely if at all featuring Boba Fett in those two episodes, I can’t recall being bothered honestly.

Mando and by extension Grog-Baby Yoda’s return to the fold lifts up the spirit and makes just about anything that is happening on screen immediately more interesting, even if it still includes awkwardness like Mando and a middle-aged Jawa-curious female mechanic talking and doing shop like it’s Ford v. Ferrari on a Naboo Starfighter. You know, the same one from possibly the worst Star Wars movie not involving J.J. Abrams. For what it’s worth, it manages to make that same Starfighter into something greater than the sum of it’s cinematic introduction back in 1999.

We also get the return of de-aged Luke Skywalker with a generally better if at times still uncannily valley face, Rosario Dawson’s better than expected live action Ahsoka( possibly the best “girl power” character in Star Wars history), Timothy Olyphant’s Marshal Cobb Vanth, other “Helmet or the Highway” Mandalorians of Din’s acquaintance, an adorable BD droid first seen in 2019’s stellar Jedi: Fallen Order and the aforementioned Cad Bane, where Star Wars truly, unabashedly goes spaghetti Western.

Like the rancor carrying Boba at the end, all of these characters carry “The Book of Boba Fett” into something approximating required viewing. This is doubly true considering how it very much sets up Mandalorian’s third season and Ahsoka’s first.

But it can’t be thrown aside that the Book of Boba Fett is indeed at it’s best when Boba isn’t just silent, but not on the screen. In truth, we did get those much imagined new adventures of Boba Fett as a super cool, super mysterious bounty hunter that you had hoped for from when you were a kid seeing the OG trilogy for the first time. Those adventures were instead featured under the name “Djarin” rather than “Fett”.

Jackass Forever

Throughout the 80s and 90s, Jackie Chan became an international star for daring to put himself in greater physical danger than just about anyone else. Echoing the Do-It-Yourself bravery of silent film slapstick, Chan shocked the world with the audacity of what he actually did to impress audiences in Hong Kong and beyond. In one case, the finale of the original Police Story, he literally shocked himself by sliding down a pole flinging through a series of electric lights careening to the glass below. In truth not the stunt that brought him closest to death, but it still came close enough.

In a far more irreverent and grotesque manner, the crew of MTV’s Jackass have set out to continue Chan’s legacy on both the big and small screens. Safe to say that the four cinematic outings pulled off far more than even an MTV show could dare. They were controversial, they were hilarious, they were indisputably brave on top of knowingly stupid. Not so stupid, in that paramedics and doctors were always standing by. These are professional morons, mind you.

The latest and possibly last Jackass flick, at least to feature more or less the original crew (barring one’s absence over legal dispute and the other over a tragic untimely death), is a film that’s all about affirming two things: despite reaching middle age, Johnny Knoxville and friends still got it and that ,yes, intentionally abusing one another can create earnest friendships.

I’ll be honest, I’ve always gravitated towards the more physical skits than the ones meant to inspire queasiness. The gross stuff which is still very much on the table here is able to inspire in me at least admiration in that ,hey, they did that gross stuff pretty well and creatively. But the stuff involving almost certain pain is what I look forward to in terms of more or less seeing a live action Looney Tunes cartoon on display.

It’s analogous to the Mountain question. “Why climb a mountain?” someone asks. “Because it’s there,” says the other. Out of sheer curiosity, the Jackass boys and girls ask themselves if this really dangerous, overseen but still quite stupid scenario is feasible. Time and time again, the answer is a laughter and groan inducing yes.

There’s humor in how the skits sometimes involve tricks or surprises that other members of the Jackass team aren’t privy towards. Those that end up falling for a painful surprise are just as bewildered and stunned as the audience is. It also amounts to a guessing game for the audience and occasionally the team member as to how the skit will resolve and in what way? Was your guess to the resolution on point? Or, were you humorously off the mark? Sometimes, an accidental, unintended result in the skit works just as well in being considered a success.

I can’t really rank my favorite to least favorite skits nor which member I consider my favorite. That being said, Steve-O, the one who seems to willingly partake in the skits most likely to hurt or cause revulsion I have a respect for the most. Though he does stuff regularly that I wouldn’t ever dare do, his rather infectious enthusiasm for the job and him rarely ever losing that optimistic, cheerful expression in spite of the context of his job description is where the heart of Jackass really is: putting on not just a brave face, but a happy one in the face of quite possibly perilous pranks.

Another member, Ehren, is the one meant to inspire sympathy more than anything else. He’s the one, who despite being part of a group that regularly does stuff that would incite apprehension at performing, is the most freaked out and put off by the particular skits he’s part of. Much like how in every season of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the character of Miles O’Brien had a episode all about putting him through hell, Ehren seems to be the one whose role is to get seemingly the shortest end of the stick by both the crew and the audience’s estimation.

You know it’s all going to be OK in the end, nobody died making it and if they had, it would make the news and possibly kill the movie too. In spite of the comical, self-knowing Schadenfreude intended through a regular production of Jackass, there really is a heart-warming message involved.

Preservation through (self-inflicted) hardship and the friends you make in the process, all while showing the world that this really dumb and dangerous idea that might have entered your head once is not only feasible, it can be construed as a funny gag for all the world to enjoy: if you have the guts to see it in any way similar to how Knoxville and co. see it.

I don’t know what Jackie Chan thinks of this raucous American interpretation of risk-taking for entertainment. Well, Chan did co-star with Johnny Knoxville in a film not too long ago so maybe taking one or several for the team is something that East and West really can both appreciate.

James Gunn’s Peacemaker

James Gunn’s mission statement is to make gross, bawdy R-rated entertainment, which was his modus operandi under indie legend Troma Entertainment, that also involves superheroes and heart. He has succeeded in a PG-13 interpretation of that vision with his Guardians of the Galaxy work. He succeeded again with a proper R-rating with last year’s The Suicide Squad. Now, on HBO, he has perhaps mastered it with the spinoff Peacemaker.

Say what you will about John Cena. Many took umbrage for him apologizing in Mandarin for calling Taiwan a country on behalf of the PRC. For a long time, he was simultaneously one of Wrestling’s most famous and yet most hated superstars under the WWE. Now, he’s making a great new niche for himself as an honest to God actor who might be a genuinely better actor than the go-to example for ring to cinema transition: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Who else could it be? Well, Bautista maybe.

His performance of Christopher Smith, the self-proclaimed superhero Peacemaker, is likely a self-satire on his profile as being a buff, patriotic wrestler and action star. His first movie, The Marine from 2006, is an uber-patriotic and stupid action film, that is tied together by the sense that at least Cena is earnest about his intentions with the film undeniably pro Marine corps stance.

With his work under Gunn, Cena, now in his 40s and no less jacked and ready for the role, might have a bit more introspective even pessimistic outlook on American patriotism as it stands now in the 2020’s, as well he should. Or, he’s following along with Gunn’s perception and is simply acting so well it doesn’t betray his actual feelings on the matter.

Peacemaker is both a joke and yet the real deal at the same thing. Almost as literal-minded as Bautista’s interpretation of Marvel’s Drax the Destroyer though less deadpan, Christopher Smith is undeniably good at using weapons, killing people and being in truth excellent in combat scenarios. Amanda Waller would not have picked him as a serious candidate for her Task Force X, the Suicide Squad otherwise.

And yet, his delusional worldview on why he exercises his combat proficiency, to make the world more peaceful, is laughable to just about everyone else. It’s not surprising he makes friends with Freddie Stroma, who straight up calls himself “Vigilante”. Like Peacemaker, he has no qualms with killing for a supposedly moral cause and for any crime, up to and including vandalism. Unlike PM, it’s almost certainly to mask his sociopathy in spite of the seemingly genuine friendship he makes with Christopher.

In truth, Smith’s reasons towards being Peacemaker are tragic, no laughing matter. Living with a traumatizing upbringing under his racist Klan leader father, played perfectly by Robert Patrick, and being indirectly responsible for killing his beloved brother in a pit fight, Christopher Smith wanted to make amends for things that were much more the fault of his father than himself. He pledges to God that he will use the skills his evil father teaches him for the betterment of mankind. Also unlike his father, he has no bigoted inclinations. He comes to work alongside Adebayo, Amanda Waller’s daughter, who is both black and gay and only comes to blows with her over a reluctant act of treachery she commits on him.

Like with both the Guardians and the Suicide Squad, Gunn is all about taking figures that at a glance and even with some digging into one would reasonably write as “bad, shady, evil” and making them into genuine heroes and not just for one day.

All five of the original Guardians in the MCU came from backgrounds that were criminal, even Groot. And yet they have become two time galaxy saviors and contributed one time to saving the universe. Sure, they may maintain some amount of roguish behavior, but they are unambiguously on the side of the Angels.

The Suicide Squad as Gunn depicts them in last year’s excellent retooling of the concept are even more “bad guy” than the Guardians. Some are considered outright villains in general in the DC pantheon of characters. And yet, over the course of a mission set in a stand-in for Cuba, they come to recognize that their talents can be used for the greater good of all and not just for the whims of a deep state agent like Waller.

Due to circumstances from that film, Peacemaker didn’t get to have that epiphany like Idris Elba’s Bloodsport and the rest. He seemingly died a reluctant villain at Bloodsport’s hand no less. And yet, miracously he lived and now under a new black ops team under Waller’s control, he now has a chance to actually be the good guy in fighting a “Body Snatchers” like invasion and better yet, be the good person he deluded himself into thinking he already was.

Peacemaker is just as much a character study as it is a meditation on the American character as it now is. With all the horrible realities of what America is revealing to itself, to those who are willing, what is one to do? Even when still operating under the CIA’s thumb, can one better themselves and save the world?

At first, it’s Peacemaker attempting to make up for failing in his mission last time. Overtime, it’s to find that same type of family that Bloodsport discovered and Peter Quill/Star-Lord discovered, but with its own even more profane interpretation.

Peacemaker might be the most adult Superhero production Gunn has yet made. There are plenty of moments that you thought you would never see in something involving the DCEU or a DC project in general. Those same moments are also played for laughs while still, in spite of it all giving insight into the particular character at the heart of the joke.

It’s violence is able to know when to be darkly comic and when to be just dark, moments meant to inspire horror for the sake of the drama. A moment which involves assassinating a politician and his family on the suspicion they might be something akin to Body Snatchers is mostly given discretion where the act of assassination is mostly offscreen but still unsettling. Yes, I am saying that a veteran of Troma has taste. Another moment involving a mercenary masquerading as an FBI agent is bone-chilling, him psychopathically killing agents and having fun while doing so is treated as messed up as it is.

Peacemaker and other characters who confront or must commit violence are often haunted by its repercussions. Christopher Smith is haunted by a major character he killed in The Suicide Squad and he comes to see the violence his evil father committed on him or had him commit as being as monstrous as it was.

Most characters in the show have to come to terms with their violence their roles involve as well as the philosophies behind the roles there are in. Is there not perhaps an alternative to the obvious? What is unavoidable and what isn’t? Is the world they’re supposedly safeguarding worth protecting? The same world that indeed has a Justice League in it?

You might be saying that those same questions seem rather similar to the same questions that Zack Snyder’s vision of this universe posited. You’d be right and leave it to a darkly comic, highly irreverent dramedy to one up what might be the most self serious director working today, though Snyder’s recent Army of the Dead movie suggests he can try to be more lighthearted every once in a while. Emphasis on “try.”

Even if the emotion that is attempted in Peacemaker works for me often more intellectually than it does in genuine emotion on my part, it is no less successful in being at times the bloody laugh riot it was marketed to be. While not all of the gross or bawdy jokes land for me, it is made up for in the moments that do work and for the sheer recognition that such humor is actually working in conjunction with the structure of over the top violence, serious political observations and honest to god character arcs.

Maybe more than anything else, this is James Gunn at his most James Gunn, tempered with actual craft at not overdoing it and becoming himself a self-parody. He wants you to think about what Christopher Smith and his own peculiar Suicide Squad’s adventures are all about. Some takeaways can be uplifting, some can be disquieting, some can be sobering. All yet fit. The series brokers peace with its differing tonal priorities.

In that respect, it very much is truth in advertising. And Christopher “Peacemaker” Smith at the end of the day, delusional or not, does wish to fight for truth, justice and the American way. This go around, the truth he must first fight for is in himself.

Next time: Dunno either more 80s retrospective or The Batman.

Originally posted 2022-03-02 02:56:10.

Happy Year of the Tiger, everyone.

Though I have no Chinese ancestry or relatives, I was work friends with a Chinese-American student at a digital editing/cameraman job at my college in Florida. Lunar new year celebrations are not limited to China, as there are variations in Korea and I think Japan. I do have a Japanese aunt and through her a Japanese American cousin who now lives in Brooklyn.

Even without any of that background, I imagine there is in truth really no issue in a white dude like me enjoying the most recognized Asian holiday/celebratory period, due to its prevalence in Chinese American communities like Chinatown.

I mean, some might have an issue with it due to it being specific to Chinese culture and as a celebration connected through the family dynamic of that community. At the same time, non-Irish celebrate or partake in St. Patrick’s Day festivities (and not just to get wasted), and as far as I know Jewish Americans aren’t upset if gentiles politely observe some Hannukah festivities.

Basically, it can and does act as excuse for me to do the two things a non Chinese person often does relating to China: eat Chinese food and watch Chinese cinema, especially of the action variety. This year, I have four films to peruse: three from Hong Kong and one proudly American made that is about the Chinese American experience as it was in 1982 and perhaps to some extent still is.

The Victim (Lightning Kung Fu in U.S.) (1980) (HK)

Sammo Hung is a Hong Kong cinema legend that is not as well known as say Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, Chow Yun Fat, Tony Leung, Donnie Yen, Jet Li or Michelle Yeoh. It’s a shame considering how distinctive a figure he is when he does appear in an HK production. Your best chance of seeing the portly yet kung fu-fast actor is when he appears in stuff that features Chan or any of the others mentioned above. The Victim is a Hong Kong dramatic comedy that showcases Hung’s talents perfectly and is decent introduction to him, if you don’t mind VHS quality despite being available on Amazon Prime.

Some time in what is vaguely meant to be either 19th or very early 20th century China, there lives a traveling kung fu enthusiast looking for a new master played by Hung. He finds that potential master in Chun-yau, a humble man who helps out with the occasional bout or rough-housing in his village but tries (emphasis on tries) to keep a low profile with his beloved wife Yuet-yee. He has good reason to.

That somewhat fat but no less quick kung fu wannabe apprentice Chan Wing, after seeing his display of awesome martial arts prowess, immediately wants him to become his master, despite already being very good at it. Chun keeps on saying no and a lot of the comedy comes at Chan being basically a comical stalker at the poor guy.

However, Chun’s complicated past comes back to haunt him in the form of his absolutely evil stepbrother, Cho-Wing, who you already know is evil before he does anything because he’s wearing an eyepatch. He proves that foregone conclusion by trying to rape Chun’s newly wedded wife because hey, what’s his brother’s is also his, right?

The wedded couple flee before they can even honeymoon and now Cho’s thugs have caught up. What are a duo of comic and straight man martial artists to do? The Victim brilliantly toes the line between seriousness and comedic fun despite how often stark the contrast between the two tones featured are.

On the one hand, there is the near breathless energy of how the verbal and physical humor makes the fights to come even more exciting and better yet, worth rewatching. Then, in spite of the overly obviously evil appearence of the stepbrother, his backstory in conjunction with Chun makes if not sympathetic at least understandable, as it was jealousy over his birth father, a Chinese Grandmaster, giving more attention and affection to a ratty orphan on the streets.

It’s obvious stuff made more enjoyable through both the ingredients that make martial arts comedies so bouncy and carefree while also lowering your guard to the darker material in store. Because of the VHS quality I had to view through, the great fight sequences lose some punch that later entries to talk about maintain through better visual presentation. It could even be that the latter films also have better fighting in general and for that reason are easier to access through streaming services.

This is ultimately as good an introduction to Sammo Hung as I can think, especially if you want to experience firsthand without Jackie Chan’s presence to compare to.

Chan is Missing (1982)

It is the early 1980s. The culture that we know of that era is basically just beginning to form with some leftovers from the 70s. Synth, neon and mostly bad hair shall become a new normal. Question is, will every American follow suit and why? Obviously not, just consider the continuing anti-establishment punk culture and that in truth, there are always going to be different kinds of groups who present themselves in different ways, occasionally being colored in by changing times.

Chan is Missing is not just a polite critique of the well-meaning but heavily stereotyped fictional figure of Charlie Chan, a Chinese-American detective who helps out despite his heavily accented Far East voice and endless array of Chinese proverbs to expel. It’s not just a reflection on changing generations within the Chinese-American community and with it changing attitudes.

It’s fundamentally about what it means to be Chinese-American at all, or maybe even just Chinese in the late 20th century. The film’s conclusion ,which is all about throwing its hands up and saying “Who knows?” is not a cop-out, it’s a melancholic admission that the answer really can’t be found. Due to the film’s presence in San Francisco, I’d say us now discovering who the Zodiac killer is or was is more likely to occur.

Another thing that makes the film’s on-the-surface depressing conclusion not really hurt is that the other takeaway is that it is ultimately not that big a deal. It’s not unimportant to filmmaker Wayne Wang and the uncle and nephew duo who become DIY detectives. It’s not important enough that the lives that they’re living should be disrupted by it.

This deep dive into Chinese-American identity, which can be extrapolated as meaningful to the immigrant experience in America as well all stems from how Jo wants to make his nephew Steve a fellow driver of cabs in Frisco. To do that, his go-between, Chan, has to give Jo that license. Suddenly, Chan disappears, hence the title. All through Chinatown San Francisco and beyond, they search and search, all in indie camerawork black and white framing.

Thinking over it, it actually reminds me of the Italian classic depressor L’Avventura, all about a search for a missing person that ultimately ends up getting nowhere and getting nowhere was the whole point. That film was an addressing of Italian sentiment over existentialism and nihilism following the butchery of WW2. Chan is Missing is less heavy and anxiety inducing over its implications, but it’s likely Wang made the comparison if only for the style of film he intended.

All the while, you are treated to a colorless yet still colorful depiction of SF Chinatown 1982, with American ditties being dubbed over and even rewritten with new meaning in Chinese. Whose being assimilated? America or China?

Jo narrates the experience in a way that reminded me of Wallace Shawn’s narration at the beginning and end of My Dinner with Andre of all things, though this is a more personal story in comparison. The second generation Jo’s conflict with third generation and more explicitly American-like nephew Steve is both frustration over the lack of headway in both figuring out where Chan went as well as figuring out who Chan even is.

Despite being a go-between for Jo, the two have never met in person and the film ends with the intent of an anvil and also the impact of an anvil: the sole photograph of Chan he could find has him in dark shadow and blurry, elusive even when he didn’t mean to.

A number of scenarios for who Chan is/was and what he is about is almost akin to Kurosawa’s oft copied Rashomon. He was a Communist sympathizer, maybe he wasn’t. He was a nice guy, he was a prick. He was stodgy, he was open. He was here when he was actually over here. Rashomon is also famously uninterested in revealing to you the truth, because maybe it really can’t be found.

The way the camera moves in relation to Jo’s narrative gives Chan is Missing a really dream-like feel, as if our minds are trying to process the mystery more sluggishly than usual, maybe as a reflection of Jo and Steve’s. It is a definite article independently made movie, and for its purposes does make the proceedings feel more real. It also makes it really hard to tell who is and is not an actor. The truth is that it could be everyone in the movie, save the many streetgoers on the Frisco streets, are actors, maybe the majority were for real.

There is likely a concrete answer to that question. But back to the point of the movie is how much the players and you yourself actually care. Part of the reason Chan is never found is because these two men, none of which are trained detectives, get tired of the chase, find an alternative to their original problem involving a cab license. Some might be bothered that the main characters give up because the audience generally wants a resolution. It’s the American expectation as a cinemagoer. Rashomon was Japanese. L’Avventura was Italian.

Chan is Missing is American, but it’s also Chinese. What you get is the candid experiences, thoughts and expressions of people living in a real place at a real time albeit sprinkling in a fictional conflict. More than anything else, Chan is Missing is a human production. The real question you should be asking is if the act of “giving up” that occurs is laziness, disinterest or pragmatism. And on top of all that, how much does one conclusion bother you, if at all.

A question for us all.

Duel to the Death (1983) (HK/South Korea)

China and Japan have had beef for who knows how long, rarely ever just experiencing a period of “chillness” in relation from what I know.

This Hong Kong/South Korean co-production acknowledges that long ago the people who make up most of Japan’s population (save the Okinawans and Ainu) were descended from China. Of course, as a lot of time passes and I do mean a lot of time, very distinct cultures formed and China and Japan became alien to one another, not without any shared similarities, but hardly enough to matter ultimately.

In the modern context, the most infamous example of China and Japan having, to put it lightly, poor relations was what is officially called the Second Sino-Japanese War that began with Imperial Japan’s invasion of Manchuria and ultimately became part of World War 2. Statistically, the losses overall in the battle over mainland China would at least meet or surpass the Eastern Front between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union.

It is a major element to WW2 history that is rarely acknowledged in Western media despite its obvious importance. If I had to bet, it’s that taking the side of the Chinese over the Japanese, despite the former being the victims in this instance could come across as Pro-PRC sentiment nowadays even if unintended. Also, America loves Japan now. I’m one of them, Sugoi! As far as I know, the last time an American/ Western piece of media acknowledged that horrifying side to WW2 or the leadup, it was Spielberg’s overlooked Empire of the Sun from 1987.

Everyone is aware that Imperial Japan invaded China mercilessly for colonial intentions. It was that imperialist ambition that would lead to my country one day fighting them island by island, nightmare by nightmare in the Pacific. The 1937 pillaging/massacre of Nanjing/Nanking, often denoted as a “rape”, is the singular event that marks that aspect of shared Japanese and Chinese history as so notorious.

I really, really wish modern day Japan would come to greater terms with what they did in China and WW2 in general, as it is very concerning that Japanese curriculums often avoid or recontextualize in a less damning way their role in that side of history. It reminds me of my own country’s painfully slow and at times denialist approach to our own sins throughout history, not to mention the sins we commit now. No country, no matter how much they deliver cool even remarkable stuff into global culture, should be exempt from that criticism.

Among many other things, Japan gives us great cars, giant monsters, ramen, video game consoles and a wide range of appliances that are so ubiquitous to American life you might not even realize at first that its origins aren’t American. It took me until my teens, like I imagine most people, to realize that many of the cars and most of the game systems we own are from the land of the rising sun. If nothing else, it creates a new exotically “cool” factor, especially when you see them handle American concepts or characters.

Why have I spent an inordinate amount of time on what might be for some of you a heartbreaking history lesson on two major Asian countries? Because that is what Duel to the Death is all about.

Set in the 16th century, a master Chinese swordsman and a master Japanese swordsman have been ordered by their respective governments to take part in a once-in-a-decade duel of honor: a battle to determine which style of swordsmanship is superior. An entire people’s culture, their “face” is put on the line for this duel. As the title already spoils, it ain’t over until someone keels over.

Ching Wan is the Chinese champion while Hashimoto is the champion for Japan. Their own perspectives on honor and what it entails is also what is on the line. Both recognize that regardless of their standard for honor, being expert swordsmen does not guarantee long lives, let alone easy ones. They have come to grimly accept that dying in peace is not in the cards. If their honor is maintained all the same, what’s there to worry about?

Well, how about that both sides are willing to pull some heinous crap to rig the fight? Ching’s master, who is extremely resentful for his school’s waning recognition, makes a dirty deal with the Japanese Shogun to arrange the fight in such a way that both parties will be benefitted in some way. Instead of Ching, he will have his very talented daughter Sing Lam, fight Hashimoto while Ching is caged up while the Japanese send out bonafide NINJAS to kidnap their very best shaolin monks so they can force them to teach their skills to the Japanese.

As you can expect, both swordsmen are appalled at this horribly dishonorable treachery from both their countries. These two designated sworn enemies ironically become brothers in arms to end the conspiracy that has embroiled them both.

The film’s final bout, the much promised “Duel to the Death” is a bloody affair that is breathtaking in its execution and the amount of expert wuxia (wire fu) that is implemented. As cool as the fight between the two is, it is twinged with sadness that it is ultimately a fight only one of them wants. Ching, not having the suicidal level to commitment in maintaining face like Hashimoto, is all too happy to let bygones be bygones once they both stop the conspiracy.

Hashimoto, however, with his brutally taught interpretation of Bushido, wants a fight and he will get the fight he wants. The film at first ends on an ambiguous note, as technically speaking, both fighters are alive when the credits roll. However, when you realize the sheer punishment they’ve given their bodies, with Hashimoto getting punctured in the heart by Ching and Ching in return losing his whole right arm, you realize that both men are not going to make it.

Hashimoto stops the fight when he realizes he needs not deliver a killing blow. He instead sheathes his katana and looks out to the ocean back towards Japan. Both realize that no side will win, both will die, and in truth what honor was actually won that day? They actually did win honor through their foiling of the plot but then ruined it by performing the duel.

Now, unless you’re hopelessly literal-minded, this does sound very much like allegory doesn’t it? As it was in the 1980s and it is no less true in the 2020s, China and Japan remain very cross toward one another. There is some legitimate grievance that I can read from the current politics between the two. Namely, Japan, despite doing its best effort to put on a better image, being no longer conquest hungry for starters and getting along with almost everyone on the global stage, hasn’t done one thing that would possibly make a difference with regards to the Chinese people: apologize for what they did to them between invading Manchuria and World War 2.

Tragically, as mentioned before, Japan has never made any formal apology for their numerous crimes against humanity on the Chinese people. I don’t know if the same is also true of the Korean, Vietnamese and Burmese people or anyone else they victimized, but it is certainly true here. They’re a number of reasons Japan hasn’t apologized, not all of them are related to racism or stubborn nationalist pride. Due to the balance of power shifting after WW2, with China becoming an Authoritarian Communist nation on the Soviet side of the Cold War, suddenly Japan under initial American occupation was on the American side of things, however nominally.

Eventually, sentiments between American and Japan would drastically improve over the coming decades, mostly due to Japan adopting their own form of American economic and political philosophy while China became the second most noteworthy opponent against the West during the Cold war, barring Cuba I guess. True, Nixon opening up trade and a change of policy following Mao’s death would also blunt that, but to this day, America and China have maintained a passive-aggressive attitude towards one another, that itself blunted by a little thing known as economic interdependence.

Japan, despite America maintaining some perhaps too close to home ties such as controversial military bases, has done more its own thing. For a time, in the 80s and 90s, there was actual fears that Japan would overtake Murica’ economically as the greatest financial superpower in the world, though one heck of a crash in the early 90s would dissipate the reality of anything like that remotely coming to pass. To be frank, a lot of that fear-mongering over Japanese economic, corporate domination might have had some ‘ahem’ xenophobic undertones.

The point that Duel to the Death makes is not just that, despite some genuine and not so genuine grievances either nation might have, it is not worth it to mesh out the divide through violence. It was horrifying enough the last time around. While Japan is not a nuclear power (for depressingly obvious reasons), another such conflict would hurt both more than it would help. Why waste good men and women in such a way?

If all the politics and allegory is too much for you, Duel to the Death, like most HK action flicks, can be enjoyed solely on the visceral level. The aforementioned NINJAS that the Japanese use are of the comically supernatural level. Jumping up high, pulling up martial feats that can’t be done with some behind the scenes f/x, being able to run really fast in procession in a manner that would be utterly in line with the Benny Hill theme. There’s also one hilarious moment where some other Chinese warrior walking along the beach is suddenly attacked by NINJAS flying kites. It’s as technically remarkable as it gut-bustlingly silly. If it that were to happen to me, I couldn’t tell you if I would laugh or scream.

There’s also smaller scale but no less absurd battles between those that are not NINJAS like our two swordsmen and the NINJAS themselves. How the lead NINJA dies is both insanely ridiculous and yet another excuse to guffaw once you process what you just saw happen.

Oh and the more realistic fighting not involving NINJAS is pretty great. In other words, politics or no politics, it’s easy to see why this is an exaggerated martial arts/swordsmanship HK classic, the first directed by the man who would one day give us, wouldn’t you know, A Chinese Ghost Story. A must see, unless you’re sensitive to the kind of sword based violence that almost certainly helped inspire Tarantino’s Kill Bill.

Shaolin Temple (1982) (HK)

There were films about Shaolin martial arts before Jet Li’s debut feature in 1982. The legend Bruce Lee showed off the moves in defense of Shaolin tradition in none other than Enter the Dragon itself. Films which had “Shaolin” in the title had been made, some now considered classics of the genre like Lau Kar-Leung’s The 36th Chamber of Shaolin (1978).

Shaolin Temple affected the genre significantly with one simple act: featuring the real life Shaolin monastery itself for the first and definitely not last time. This being a Hong Kong production, doing so involved filming on mainland China, which as you can imagine might seem risky. I suppose it was possible by the 80s’ due to an evolving change in policy following Mao’s death as mentioned in the Duel to the Death section of this article.

That being said, showcasing the honest to God real monastery (though I wouldn’t be surprised if some interior shots were filmed in Hong Kong) was a real turning point in how the martial arts genre went about representing the cultural aspects of this type of cinema, not just “that’s some sweet moves” aspect.

The success of this movie wouldn’t just make Jet Li into a Hong Kong cinema legend over the coming decades, but it would make the actual Shaolin Monastery into one of China’s largest tourist attractions. Chances are fairly good that if you were to decide on visiting China nowadays (barring COVID and your understandable misgivings due to their censor-heavy authoritarianism, among other stuff), the Shaolin monastery located smack dab in central China would be a strong suggestion given to you.

The story is fairly straightforward which works in the film’s favor both as introduction to Li and to the Shaolin itself. During one of the many terrible periods of civil war that plagued Chinese history, Jue Yuan (Jet Li) loses his father to a ruthless general called Wang Shichong, who upon writing this was based on an actual person of the same name.

After fleeing for his life with help from someone who eventually is revealed to be a rebel leader against Shichong, he is given sanctuary in the Shaolin Monastery, and eventually decides to go through the trials of becoming a Shaolin monk, all for revenge. Of course, the Buddhist monks who run the monastery do not train their students to kill for any reason. In spite of how plausible the moves of a Shaolin monk are in killing someone, only non-lethal violence is permitted, always in defense. Sounds similar to the Jedi code, don’t it?

This frustration over the rules of living a proper Shaolin life under the teachings of Buddha leads Jue to having a frayed relationship with the men he will in time call brothers. There’s also Bai Wu Xia, the beautiful maiden who lives in the monastery due to one of the lead monks being her adoptive father. Like the jedi code, shaolin monks do not take up with anyone in intimate relationships. Again, this is sounding like something our boy Lucas took inspiration from.

Eventually, the war that is transpiring makes it way to the monastery. The monks try their best to stay neutral in the conflict, due to their pacifist belief. Eventually, General Shichong’s methods, all to get a prisoner of his, Jue, pushes the monastery’s beliefs to the breaking point.

Of course, it’s easy to see why the Shaolin beliefs would send very mixed messages, as they regularly train and practice with weapons. Swords, spears, sword-spears, daggers with ropes like what you saw in Marvel’s Shang-Chi last year, you name some cool Chinese weapon, the monastery likely has it.

Of course, the use of some quite sharp weaponry is all in the training and mastery of one’s body and spirit. All to improve yourself, not to take the lives of others. The scenes showcasing the cast’s effortless use of those weapons, especially with Jet Li alone in demonstration, are mesmerizing to watch.

What makes it even more impressive is that there’s no fakery to protect the actors and actresses. Li and the others really are using weapons that if you’re not careful can seriously injure yourself or others, even accidentally kill. That is one major reason behind HK martial arts’ worldwide appeal: the characters and stories are fake, the danger is not.

It ultimately culminates in an epic battle on the monastery grounds between Jue, Bai and the monks versus Shichong’s forces. Not gonna lie, seeing the evil general and his forces approaching the monastery reminded me of the Uruk-Hai barreling towards the Fellowship in LOTR, with Howard Shore’s theme for Isengard blaring in my head.

It’s violent but not as violent as the proceedings in Duel to the Death, which had an almost Sam Raimi level of comic excess to lessen the graphic feel somewhat. Here, it’s much more serious, but not without moments of definite levity, more so in the moments where no one is fighting.

Oh, just a warning. Dog/pet lovers should beware as Shaolin Temple showcases the quite different standards the Chinese have towards canines compared to those living in the States. When you understand the background of that culture, the blow of a set of scenes involving a dog are not as severe. Just remember that from a Chinese perspective, how we view dogs and cats might seem strange even off-putting to them.

Jet Li’s first leading film role is a confident start, a confident beginning to the one post Bruce Lee martial arts actor that might give Jackie Chan pause. Others would also bring up Donnie Yen for example, but I rest my case. Shaolin Temple from 1982 is not just historically important, it’s yet another showcase for the breathless imagination of real often dangerous skills coming up to bat for our entertainment, whether you’re from Asia or not.

Next time: TBD

Originally posted 2022-02-09 02:47:11.

Author’s Preface

I didn’t play enough games released in 2021 to create a separate article for best games of the year. Seeing as how I haven’t really delved into critical darling Deathloop well enough yet, there could be a post-article winner for game of the year. On that note, well down the pipe line for my games to cooperatively play with my best friend Angel living in Florida is a little title called It Takes Two, which won the highest honor at last month’s The Game Awards.

An entirely cooperative game with no way to play by yourself, It Takes Two promises to be an experience tailor made to spend time the best way I can with my college friend aside from talking. So, the absence of Deathloop and It Takes Two makes me feel that even the highest ranking game on this list is not necessarily my Game of 2021.

There is one movie that I wish I could have seen last year but due to being available at no theater in my area, I missed the chance to see Guillermo Del Toro’s take on noir classic Nightmare Alley, based on the pitch black novel of the same name. Due to it’s R-rating, it’s safe to say the new version ekes closer to the full content of the novel that a 1947 motion picture couldn’t.

For whatever reason, in eerily the same vein as me not finishing the 2019 HBO Watchmen series, I did not watch the final episode of Squid Game, Netflix’s hottest surprise success, save for an entry appearing in my top ten. This South Korean sleeper hit deserves attention, so I’m going to go ahead and make it an honorable mention that would be a definite placement on the top ten save for having not actually watched the finale for a reason I can’t completely explain.

Speaking of honorable mentions…

Honorable Mentions

Squid Game (2021)

Loki: Season One

Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart (PS5)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

Number Ten: Hawkeye

I don’t know if Hawkeye is the best MCU show released this year. The guy that once brainwashed one of the two leads of this show probably ekes out as better with his own show featured here as an honorable mention. Hawkeye was the most entertaining and probably the most consistent in sticking to what it was trying to be.

It didn’t get pulled back into the MCU’s baser formula like the up to a point experimental Wandavision. It wasn’t a politically intriguing drama that ultimately couldn’t make its mind up on what it was really saying to the audience like Falcon and Winter Soldier, save that we shouldn’t forget or hide the crimes we committed against Americans that didn’t share the skin color of one Steve Rogers.

Loki, for all it’s literally universe-shaking repercussions, didn’t have the best pace or the highest energy and yet is shielded by further criticism in that it is not the wrap-up of that particular adventure on Disneyplus. What If rarely was as far-out and thought provoking in its alternate universe exploration as it could have been and when there was a story-line like that, it often felt either undercooked or not explored long enough.

The least impressive original Avenger ironically has the best run this year when it comes to sticking to its bullet points and wrapping it all up in a surprisingly expansive but ultimately fitting bow. here we see Clint Barton’s journey to escape or find cantharis in the dark five years he spent murdering ner-do-wells as Ronin. All because he saw no other way to cope with losing his entire family from the other most significant purple figure in the MCU.

While he may have exclusively slain bad people or those who worked for bad people, he didn’t count on getting his happy non-Avenging life back, he honestly was attempting long term suicide-by-criminal organization if we’re being honest. Now that he does, he has created a new list of enemies to harbor his family from as well as get the attention of an old one who has gloriously become canon in the actual MCU. It will take more than one Hawkeye to save the day and as luck would have it, there is.

Portraying Kate Bishop rounds out an era for Hailee Steinfeld’s career that is about the most prosperous as I can see right about now. From getting to reprise the voice of Spider-Gwen in two more Spider-verse movies down the road to beginning to voice Vi, one of the main figures of what could in time be the undisputed champion for video game adaptations( if it hasn’t already), it’s a good time to be Hailee Steinfeld.

Steinfeld’s Bishop taking up screentime from Barton has ruffled some fans much like Natasha Romanoff’s “family” did so in Black Widow and how Shang-Chi’s best friend and sister did for me in his movie. But again, Hawkeye is a title, not a name, and considering that Jeremy Renner has been in the MCU for a decade at this point, are you really surprised the seeds for a successor have been sown?

Hawkeye is funnier more often than it’s not, dark enough when it needs to be but doesn’t sour the Christmas time atmosphere which aside from coming across as refreshing for being a “street level” marvel tale after the operatic excess of Eternals, helps give it a strong enough distinction from the rest of the ever crowded MCU lineup.

Hawkeye, as you would expect, promises much coming later to the MCU as has been the case since day one but it also promises that maybe a replacement character can be more than just a replacement character. Despite sharing mostly the same skill-set as Clint, Kate is her own person, albeit molded by her unlikely idolization of an Avenger.

Hawkeye makes a humorous case for what could happen when you meet your hero, both for why you should and should not at the same time.

Number 9: Castlevania: Season 4

How I feel about the last season of Netflix’s surprisingly great take on the beloved video game series has changed due to the release of Arcane later that same year.

It’s still good if flawed here and there but what is refreshing about Castlevania’s errors is that they’re not tied into the endless pitfalls that beleaguer a typical video game adaptation. This year’s Mortal Kombat and Resident Evil movies continue more or less to follow many of the same mistakes in trying to imagine these video game worlds and their stories in a form that is not interactive. Too much emphasis on bringing attention to references or easter eggs from the games, not enough on letting a still reverent adaptation be its own thing, told in a way that suits linear, traditional models of storytelling. Imagine that.

Well, the four seasons of Netflix’s Castlevania are here to tell you need not imagine anymore. You can witness it. Arcane took the concept that Castlevania for the small screen adopted and has ran away with it to insanely glorious heights. Here, it’s enough that it’s a story of a world changing from the medieval to the Renaissance, of finding the distinction between science’s value and it’s detriments, of deciding how you want to live with the gifts you’re born with or grow into.

Maybe the wisdom that Castlevania uncovered not unlike finding some dusty tome in a mystic library is that maybe it is the story and its players, not the game and its players, that matter first. Once you have the basics down, you can then infuse an infectious anime-inspired style and fury to the fighting, the score and the tone. You can then sneak in the references both obvious and subtle and make it work with the tale to be told.

As much applause as Arcane has earned for finally getting it after nearly 30 years of wallowing in mediocrity or worse since the live action Mario Bros, Castlevania was the stepping stone, the first sign that we were learning to do what was once written off as impractical, impossible even: make a game’s world inviting to those who have never once taken up a controller or keyboard + mouse.

I have played many games. I have never actually played any Castlevania title. You won’t need to to get or appreciate what is offered here and that is the same times a thousand for a latter entry on this list.

Number 8: Resident Evil 8: Village (Played on PlayStation 5)

Resident Evil’s 13th in truth main entry is a welcome reminder not rehash of past franchise glories, such as the venerated Resident Evil 4 from 2005, not unlike how RE7 from 2017 recalled the original PS1 titles. RE8 goes one step further by being a first person version of RE4 that ekes closer to actually being survival horror, with puzzles to solve, fewer resources to use and some monsters that just cannot be killed but outlasted. Also, in one area, being genuinely terrifying in a way I don’t think Resident Evil has ever been for me before.

RE8 yet reflects the pains of staying true to itself while also being drawn to the more explosive, actiony side of itself. RE4 is often derisively called the first “action” entry that eventually devolved the series’ reputation for the next two entries. That said, since the first game ended with you triumphantly blowing up the final monster with a rocket launcher, Resident Evil is a horror phenomenon that has always stood out for its internal conflict in trying to balance the scales between fright and fight and failing.

The cycle begins anew as after RE7 dialed down the manic action considerably, RE8 cranks it back up but still not too much to where it can mostly be called part of a REnaissance for the series so to speak.

Village’s cold, spooky atmosphere and contextualition of gothic horror with a contemporary feel also help it stand out from being just another game in the series and lays the groundwork for what might well be one of the most conceptually intriguing titles with the upcoming Resident Evil 9. Whether that successor wins or loses is beside the point.

It’s fitting that this middle child for this new trilogy of Resident Evil should be all about what we leave for the ones that come after. It’s also important that in and out of universe, the lessons that are learned will not always be the best ones.

Number 7: The Suicide Squad

James Gunn surprised virtually everyone with his out of the blue success in making Guardians of the Galaxy part of the string of success stories for the MCU eight years ago. He probably surprised the actual readers of the comic book team that were reestablished into their modern take in 2008 as well.

It’s a pity that Gunn commercially couldn’t do the same for DC’s go-to example of villains forced to do good or the deep state’s interpretation of “good” with his vastly superior vision of the Suicide Squad.

So many factors go into making the 2021 Suicide Squad’s failure more sad than comically embarrassing. It flips the circumstances from the 2016 film by David Ayers: that film was a commercial success but critically panned, some calling it one of the worst superhero films ever made. This film is a critical success but was financially disastrous.

Disaster is yet a stretch as Gunn is still able to make and release his Peacemaker spin off show with John Cena and Gunn is already hard at work with getting his MCU Guardians of the Galaxy back into the spotlight with their appearance in the Fourth Thor this year as well as a series of Groot shorts, a GOTG holiday special and of course Vol. 3. So, yeah, The Suicide Squad did bomb but I’ve got a feeling that it’s “No hard feelings” all around.

In spite of the poor gross of Gunn’s take on bomb collared villains doing government dirty work and then doing of their rebellious own accord good work, you should see this movie. It’s easy if you try HBO Max and you might wonder why it failed if you don’t account for the factors that were not whatsoever the fault of the film’s quality.

It’s Gunn showing us what would happen if he made GOTG R-rated but not going too hard for the most part as to not alienate you from enjoying the host of characters on their terms. From going deeper into making Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn click in a manner that wasn’t possible the first time to Idris Elba delivering better than Will Smith on the sympathetic killer-for-hire with Bloodsport.

To the surprising, redeeming good nature residing within an individual called “Ratcatcher” to the adorable obliviousness of King Shark to the tragic circumstances of a once purely silly figure like Polka-Dot Man, The Suicide Squad is all about taking would be or were once villains and making them heroic enough or just plain heroes. Just like with the Guardians of the Galaxy, but rougher, edgier.

The Suicide Squad didn’t deserve to be overlooked last year, but then again it is a mission they’re on they’re not expected to survive. It’s meta-ironic no matter how you sliced the results.

Number 6: Dune: Part One

Much like the circumstances young Paul Atreides and his mother Lady Jessica find themselves in at the end of the first of two or three movies, the circumstances of Dune as a new cinematic prospect is a narrow victory, more so with respects to the financial than the critical.

If you looked at Dune’s box office, it may not seem the most impressive, particularly for a new potential franchise. A little over $100 million domestically and a little over $300 million worldwide. But taking into account the HBO Max viewership, positive critical and audience reception and Oscar word of mouth, Dune is able to begin the journey to achieve something that has long been dismissed: a solid cinematic vision.

In terms of vision, Denis Villeneuve is the right man at the right time and in the right place. He got a chance to continue exploring the cyberpunk dystopia of Blade Runner with the excellent sequel 2049 and now he has a chance to show us what happens when a Hollywood blockbuster goes for the thinking man’s jugular rather than the spectacle craving.

Adapting for the most part the first half of Frank Herbert’s long and if I’m being honest, kindof unwieldy landmark piece of literary sci-fi, the first Dune installment by our man Denis inspires awe more so in its confident ability to show the scale of this world than perhaps anything else. Much like how his vision of continuing the dark world of Blade Runner was made to immerse you in its unsettling enormity, the vision of cosmic civilization a long ass time from now suggests you nor I can ever really encompass the full picture.

Those that can or earnestly try partake of the spice melange and they see the past, the present and the future, like Timothee Chalamet’s Paul. His reserved portrayal of the future Duke of House Atreides does not betray laziness or uncertainty of how to play this role but the uncertainty and fear of how he can be a good successor to his father. Following one intense but inevitable attack on his family, it then turns into how to thread the needle between vengeance and justice. On top of all that, how his prophesized (and manipulated) role as a messianic figure could cause more suffering than salvation.

Dune is about a lot of things, a lot of those things perhaps more pertinent to today than it was in 1965. It’s the difficulty not so much in encompassing the content of the book but the context that was the ominous task to be undertaken. You can tell Villenueve and friends love the series of books and clearly take to heart that it is the world and its themes that are most important. Sure, its characters also serve a needed purpose but for once them being secondary to the all encompassing messages of the narrative works here.

It’s rather appropriate, as these characters spend most of their time on Arrakis, a desert planet that might have given George Lucas a few ideas here or there down the road.

On this planet, you adapt or die as like the thematic power of Herbert’s world, it is the deafening size of the place, the apex predator sand-worms and the inconceivable size of the universe itself that caught Denis’ attention. These small people trying to find purpose in a reality that considers them as puny as they are.

As the first of hopefully a healthy number of installments suggests, it’s about what makes a good civilization and what is the cost of doing so? How much can man positively or negatively affect the scales of how the universe is run? What is better to pursue: your own ends however sympathetic or the needs of all around you? And most significantly, can these effects really last or even matter in the end?

For those simply going along with Villenueve’s take, a mixture of optimism and apprehension at Paul and his follower’s trials may be your takeaway, much like the general opinion of the new Dune before it’s October release. But as the story of Dune goes on, you start to realize that Herbert’s views on humanity’s potential were at best bittersweet. That for all our good intentions, we are either too self-destructive or are handicapped by the self limiting nature of who we simply are.

Dune Messiah, the initially polarizing second novel in the series is all about deconstructing or perhaps demolishing all the assumptions you might have made about the cast of characters. In spite of the end of the first novel laying heavy hints that this is not the story you wanted it to be already. Ironically, that might make Dune a less problematic story by modern standards, what with all the initial takeaways of “white savior narrative.”

I look forward if nothing else at seeing if Part Two and the certainly condensed take on Messiah by Villenueve sticks the landing in the ways that matter. With or without the spice, I see no reason to believe that he will fail in the attempt.

Number 5: Spider-Man: No Way Home

The third and not last certainly of the MCU Spider-Man flicks rests at polar opposites of assumptions about the modern blockbuster, particularly in relation to superheroes. It serves up the expected and in this instance desired fan service and nostalgic recognition of roughly 20 years of cinematic Spidey while also taking, on the surface, surprising risks that ultimately turned out to be widely embraced rather than bitterly divisive this turn.

Tom Holland’s tenure as Spider-Man has been both widely praised while also uniquely criticized. Not so much for the actor’s performance as Peter Parker, but for how this Peter seemed markedly different with respects to how he reflects the figure’s iconic status as basically “Batman but poor”.

Being the protégé of one of comic’s most noteworthy rich superheroes in Tony Stark did much to espouse a sense that this was not what the character of Spider-Man is supposed to be, privileged with a rich man’s toys rather than what comes from his own blood, sweat and tears.

Among other things, No Way Home seeks to redress this complaint, like a case of constructive criticism being taken to heart that manifests in the form of what is first a big screen Spider-Man movie easter egg tour that becomes in truth an endearing celebration of the different takes for the webhead we’ve seen.

It’s the first Spider-Man sequel to finally perform the balancing act that Raimi’s Spider-Man 3 and Webb’s Amazing Spider-Man 2 failed at: having a lot going on, like with the villain roster, and finally making it work. No Way Home is packed but not crowded, knows what to do to partition the characters, friend or foe, effectively and ironically almost acts as a redemption story for the figures that emerged from the lesser Spider-outings of the past.

It also finds the time to do what the MCU is ought to do, continuing to build itself up with further hints of things to come and matters to be resolved, likely with spectacle involved. It does more than any other MCU property released in 2021 to market the future of itself with enthusiasm and a sense that was mostly lacking that yes, there are still some great things to come, some intriguing things.

Much like how Avengers Endgame wasn’t really the end of the MCU but gave off a sense of finality for something in that universe, Holland’s third solo outing also feels like an end that yet promises more without coming across as cheap for doing so. Like many of the elements of this film, it is exactly what it was trying to be: having a cake and eating it too. 1 and a half billion in gross and counting is the best empirical evidence I can think of for that being true.

Tom Holland will return as Spider-Man but next time, the Spidey you see really will feel as if he has actually come home at last.

Number 4: Invincible: Season One

Robert Kirkman’s Invincible stands out to me in threading the needle for combining the earnest optimism and wonder of a standard comic book story with the deconstructive pessimism or skepticism of the works of Alan Moore, Mark Millar an Garth Ennis.

At the same time, Invincible in both comic and now animated television form embodies why we love, gravitate towards the superhero mythos and why we would also be apprehensive of it were it to occur in real life.

First of all, Invincible uses it’s R-rated license to demonstrate why superhero training is direly important, what happens when mistakes are made. It’s not as pretty as the mistakes of a PG/PG-13 demonstration. It also highlights the much more brutal reality when those same powers, that of super strength, laser eyes and the like, are used for reasons that are to put it lightly, not on the level.

Of course, the live action and so far excellent live action The Boys series has also done that, but seeing that same realistic yet bombastic violence from superpowers come in animated form that hews to the romantic style of comic superheroes makes it that much more stark and for the purposes of the story of Mark Grayson and his friends and family, more effective.

More than any one moment so far in Amazon Prime’s The Boys, the violence that can and will happen in this take on Invincible made me wince, even honestly queasy. A mid season battle that goes pretty poorly for the up and coming titular hero of Invincible and his fellow teenage heroes was disturbing in a way I had rarely felt before.

This was all intentional. Sure Peter Parker and Clark Kent and many other heroes have had rough goes of it before as is inevitable in their line of work but the age limits on what content is permissible in their side of the genre never allows us to see how really terrible it would likely get if super-powers were a real phenomenon. Kirkman’s vision does not spare us what we’ve always perhaps quietly pondered would actually happen in a bout between superhero and supervillain.

It’s not just physical pain in a superhero story that Invincible has been about. it’s about what it means to be a good hero or just a good person with such power. How you weather not just the physical but the emotional and psychological baggage of such a job. Again, less violent superhero faire has dealt with this, it’s basically Spider-Man and Batman’s modus operandi. It’s the far more visceral consequences that happen that puts those same timeless themes into a fresher light.

On the deconstructive side of things is where the early volumes of Invincible the graphic novel and the first season of the show draw upon something newer. About the assumptions made about the role models that these same heroes like Invincible derive inspiration from to be a hero. As it has now become part of pop cultural common knowledge by now, Invincible’s father being the surprise initial antagonist of the story can no longer be really a spoiler.

One of the most iconic images from the show, that of a frustrated Omni-Man talking down to his battered, bloodied son about their real purpose to be on Earth, not like the desires of Jor-El to his son Kal-El, has all but given up the game on that front.

It’s not just a commentary on what a super-powered group of people would seriously want to do if they came upon a comparatively puny species like humanity, it’s about the painful reckoning of most kids growing into adults that your parents are rarely what you wanted them to be or what you thought they were. A betrayal more reaving than an actual blade.

In spite of the heaviness, Invincible paradoxically also contains that down-to-Earth quality that makes the modern superhero so appealing. Mark, like Peter Parker and many coming of age superheroes, has desires and responsibilities outside of saving the city or the world. He has burgeoning romantic affections, doubts on where to go next in education and employment and making sure the ties that bind him stay well wrapped. All the more prescient considering how one tie is strained past the breaking point.

Much like Kirkman’s other seminal comic contribution The Walking Dead, Invincible is not only about Invincible. Great time is given to figures other than Mark like his fellow superhero and eventual love of his life Atom Eve and her own struggles. Of particular interest based off of my comic reading is the fascinating, endearing and in time heart-wrenching love story between two other heroes in Mark’s circle, Robot and Monster Girl. If the first season is any indication, the show is well on its way to not just nailing that side of Invincible’s narrative, it might make it even more devastating than what occurs on the page.

So far, the ship of adapting Invincible into motion seems much surer than the very shaky hand that ultimately undid AMC’s live action take of the Walking Dead. I feel much more certain that Mark’s story of super and not so super woes and victories will reach a proper end, one that might even surpass in time what came before. It certainly doesn’t hurt that for my money, the voice casting is as perfect to my subjective imagining of how these characters sounded in my head as possible. Even the changes aren’t too terrible.

Invincible is the inspiring and thought-provoking superhero tale of our time that is not for the faint of heart and stomach.

Number Three: West Side Story

Steven Spielberg’s latest film has been called his best film in 20 years. I haven’t seen every film of his in that timespan and I likely never will but yet I can heartily endorse that statement as heartily as everyone performs in this remake of the 1961 classic, itself based on the runaway success of the 1957 Broadway show.

Much like how Kurosawa was able to reimagine William Shakespeare’s work brilliantly in Japanese through his masterpieces Throne of Blood (Macbeth) and Ran (King Lear), Stephen Sondheim, who passed away mere days before the 2021 West Side Story’s release, rethought the Bard’s most ubiquitous work, Romeo and Juliet, into mid 20th century Urban America.

The original 60s adaptation by Robert Wise is seen by some as an acquired taste due to its on the surface goofy hybridization of Shakespeare, singing and city gangs snapping fingers in groovy rhythm. Spielberg’s version remains faithful but successfully makes it seem more plausible even self-knowing at times at how inherently silly a musical can be. I can’t say whether it is darker than the original considering that the beats of the story remain unaltered though with an even greater sense of looming, inevitable tragedy.

Spielberg uses the fact that his version is no longer contemporary but now a period piece to great effect in distinguishing his version without losing the spirit of what it’s about. The foreknowledge that the titular part of Manhattan, the Upper West Side, is destined to change into something altogether different than what it was in the 50s. The inability for either the Caucasian Jets nor the Puerto Rican Sharks to reckon that they have a common nemesis in Robert Moses, an enemy they cannot defeat but could outlast, adds to the subtle pain that makes up West Side Story’s newest conceit.

Like the myopic, dueling Capulets and Montagues from fair Verona, the Jets and Sharks ensnare in their pointless feud innocent youths who ironically would likely never have met each other if not for that feud. The rumble gives, the rumble takes away.

Many have laid some heat at Ansel Elgort’s performance as our Romeo Tony, but I really see it as a decent actor not quite on the same high level as everyone else, including Rachel Ziegler as our Juliet Maria. It makes me feel more sorry for Elgort being dwarfed by everyone else especially Mike Faist as the Jets leader Riff, David Alverez as the Sharks leader Bernardo and Ariana Debose as Bernardo’s girlfriend Anita who might well surpass Rita Moreno’s original performance here. Don’t feel too bad, as Moreno gets to play a new role beautifully herself as well as be an executive producer.

West Side Story’s greyer palette is offset by having genuine color being used not to mention a film grain that successfully reminds one of a bygone era of cinema much like Tarantino’s use in Once upon a Time in Hollywood. It manages to present itself as a modern production that has not lost the necessary cues from yesteryear to be called West Side Story. If nothing else, it better highlights how deadly serious a story it becomes as well as the frustrating obliviousness of most in the story to its growing peril.

West Side Story was a tragic failure at the box office, with Spider-Man’s release after further eating up potential viewers down the line. Most factors were not Spielberg’s or the film’s fault, namely the rather curious apathy the modern filmgoer has towards musicals on the big screen nowadays. Hamilton is proof that musicals in general can still be hot, but perhaps it’s hard to make appealing a story to younger generations about the silent generation dancing and fighting their issues away.

Of course, being number three on this list, I do recommend the new WSS regardless of your age. You might even find it more accessible and less initially strange an experience than the 1961 entry. It made a millennial like myself honest to God cry and I don’t often get into movies like this anyway, so take that as an endorsement and a reassurance that you won’t be wasting your time with this film the way these New York ruffians waste their lives.

Number Two: Guardians of the Galaxy (Played on PS5)

In 2020, Square-Enix released an Avengers game in the same vein of titles like Destiny and The Division. Always online, co-operative and as it turns out, not that fun or good. It was developed by two studios, Crystal Dynamics, the people behind the most recent Tomb Raider games and Eidos Montreal, best known for rebooting for a time Deus Ex and making the third modern Tomb Raider.

When it was announced at E3 last year that the latter studio were making their own Guardians of the Galaxy title, opinions were quite muted first because of the sour response to their Avengers work and because the game they were making didn’t seem all that impressive, almost imitative of the MCU conception.

Turns out, like in 2014, you shouldn’t underestimate those bunch of heroic A-holes. Eidos’ take on Star-Lord and friends was so good, it might even stand toe to toe or be better than the version we got from James Gunn.

This iteration of the Guardians combines the strengths of the cinematic and the comic into a hybrid that really doesn’t indicate the weaknesses of either. Star-Lord is still a developmentally arrested orphan who still pines for the life he was kidnapped away from in the 1980s, though under even more tragic circumstances. He’s also the son of the king of a planet and a war veteran like in the comics and unlike the movies. Gamora is an adopted daughter of Thanos now without the mad titan or her other adopted sister Nebula, whom she was forced to kill.

Drax is the man who took down Thanos himself, but still finds no peace from having lost his beloved family. Rocket’s douchey attitude comes from not really coming to terms with the traumatic life he lived as a test subject and the guilt over not saving the one he loved. Groot, despite being on the outside the cheeriest of the Guardians also harbors the pain of being the last of his kind. The Guardians are defined by their shared loss and come together ultimately as a Fast and Furiousesque family, and hardly as cheesy.

To add to the prevailing notion that the retooled version of the GOTG first seen in 2008 is based over outsiders coming together as one is that in this take Peter Quill, our Star-Lord, has to face a responsibility that would be hard even on the responsible-minded; of possibly being a father. I always enjoy a story where the Casanova hero not only reckons with genuine love and commitment but the chance to care for the product of his ways.

The twists and turns of this interactive Guardians adventure is not just punctuated by great drama but some of the funniest writing I’ve seen from anything in a long time. The banter between the five Guardians, whether it be onboard their vessel the Milano, exploring and adventuring out and about or in the midst of combat rarely failed to register as anything but pitch perfect not only to their characterization and character growth, but to my funny bone. I was gasping for air at the section where the Guardians have to use the Nova Corps virtual help desk.

The cherry on top of this rousing and surprisingly emotional adventure is the commitment to detail to make this your kind of Guardians adventure from the varied number of costumes you can give all the characters that detail their comic and film history since the 1970s to an excellent if familiar collection of 80s hits that can be played on the ship’s jukebox.

You know the developers really cared beyond a shadow of a doubt about their vision for this side of the Marvel universe when they created up to ten brand new songs for a fictional metal band that Peter Quill listened to as a kid, a band that wouldn’t you know it, was called Star-Lord.

It’s safe to call Eidos Montreal’s Guardians of the Galaxy the most pleasant surprise of 2021. No one expected anything as remotely as good or investing and yet here we have what might be a version of these space cowboys that I’m more eager for a follow-up to than Gunn’s own great rendition on the big screen. Turn up the radio.

Number one: Arcane: League of Legends

From out of basically nowhere comes Arcane as the best thing of 2021. Based on a video game series you would have to hit up my friend Angel over in Florida to really get a good description of, this animated series out of Netflix finishes what Castlevania started: making not just a great adaptation of a video game, but a masterful one.

This could be my lack of exposure to the series developed by Riotgames but I basically forgot half the time this was even based on a game, so completely it can and will envelop you in its world, characters and emotional stakes. A tale of two cities whose future is decided by the tragic deterioration of two sisters’ relationship.

It doesn’t hurt that Arcane’s art style and animation is practically idiosyncratic with only 2018’s Into the Spider-verse to compare it to in terms of something really new coming onto the screen. It’s so beautiful and detailed that it’s fun to watch and rewatch the show just to see what the animated motion describes to you that words won’t. How the facial and body animations can convey almost better than a real person’s what they’re feeling and where the paths of their lives are taking them, for better and for worse.

It’s themes are both timeless and timely, leaving no small amount of sympathy for those you would call villain and no amount of disappointment for those you would call hero or at least not evil.

The sisters Vi and Powder and their evolution or devolution in the latter’s case make up the main thrust from which most every other conflict is affected. Vi becomes a gritty survivor whose admirable trait of never giving up comes in conflict with recklessness borne out of pride. How her desperation to find her sister Powder is colored in by her regrets in how she treated her in the past. How perhaps she can find a new beginning not with her estranged sister, but from a woman hailing from a part of the world she has every reason to despise.

Powder in turn becomes Jinx, an explosive anarchist who demonstrates the rather chilling lesson that even someone that can earnestly love you for who you are can also corrupt you into something that makes a troubled yet innocuous little girl into a nightmare. a nightmare that is as frightening as it is sorrowful. How trauma enflames the demons that were always there until the person you become is all but unrecognizable from what was once there.

It’s a story really about the two kinds of love, both intimate and familial, behind a background of significant technological change occurring in a world hungering for societal change but being kept from it, much like our own. How love can redeem and corrupt. How the smallest mistakes can be more destructive than you would first imagine.

That is a lot of food for thought for something that could be lazily construed as “video game adaptation.” Arcane is not an adaptation. It is a burgeoning new work of art inspired by a video game but desiring to be its own wonderful thing. Maybe that was what was missing in the nearly 30 years of attempts since the Mario Bros movie of 1993.

Arcane overnight changed expectations over a genre of adaptation that was practically written off for the most part. Now, every other attempt to give a video game brand a new alternative format that fails will be doubly a failure because now we know it can be so much better.

As for what comes next, beats me, probably a new installment in 80s retrospective.

Originally posted 2022-01-17 03:15:38.

After many delays due to other contemporary topics to write about, I’m back to another of what is destined to be possibly hundreds of entries in this Retrospective series, as I’m doing these movies 4 at a time, with few exceptions. After around maybe the 20th entry, I might denote the normal number along with the Roman numeral, not that there is really any need to read these in order.

Used Cars (1980)

Robert Zemeckis’ second movie, four years before his financial big break with Romancing the Stone and five before cementing himself as one of Hollywood’s new giants with Back to the Future, is a darkly comic sign of things to come.

His first flick, I want to hold your Hand, all about a bunch of Beatles fangirls trying to meet the fab four at Ed Sullivan, mirrors Used Cars as both were kindly received by the critics yet were box office failures. I probably should check out Zemeckis’ first one day but because it was released in the 70s’, I refrained from watching it.

Why this originally failed is what I’m wondering.

Romancing the Stone, which is on my list for 80s’ viewing for this site, likely won people over with it being an action-adventure/rom-com hybrid, a cheeky alternative to the concurrently releasing Indiana Jones movies, funny considering Zemeckis and Spielberg’s friendship and partnership over BTTF. Back to the Future, well, that is one of Hollywood’s most legendary sleeper hits, coming out of nowhere in the Summer of 1985 to be the year’s biggest film, and oh so deserving of it.

Why couldn’t Zemeckis’ flicks about 60’s fangirls and comically scummy used car salesman engender the same success? Of course, few directors launch themselves into both critical and monetary stardom at the start and maybe it was that factor alone that stymied Forrest Gump’s eventual director early on. Of course, the success of his filmography starting with either Stone or Future made his first two retroactively viewed and re-evaluated, as is want to happen. Similar to how the meteoric success of Final Fantasy VII led to greater attention to the first six games, especially for IV and VI.

Used Cars’ subject matter and mostly cynical depiction of human behavior might’ve also contributed to it being initially a financial clunker. It’s the story of two used car dealerships, located uniquely enough in Phoenix, Arizona. Two aging dealership owners, both played by Jack Warden and both named as a profane joke (Roy L. Fuchs and Luke Fuchs) are ever at odds, wanting the other to fall out of business. The much younger Rudy, played by our boy Kurt Russell, is the one who directly operates the dealership of the “lesser evil” due to the brother on that end being the eldest and having some severe heart issues.

One of the “greater evil” brother’s(Roy) plots leads to the other brother (Luke) dying and what does in the brother is just sad. While both Fuchs brothers are shysters, seeing how Roy’s henchmen kills Luke was plain cruel and hard to watch. Upon realizing what has happened to Luke, Rudy and his fellow dealership workers fake his survival, all so Roy can’t get that dealership and increase his fortunes. a battle of wits, scams and lemons begins between Rudy’s bad and Roy’s worse.

Rudy’s schemes to get people to buy his set of bad cars is always framed as being less egregious than Roy’s more morally damning behavior. Some of it is just mischievous if still illegal, like hijacking a TV broadcast to promote the dealership, leading to a juvenile but still effective gag at their expense.

Eventually, Luke’s estranged daughter Barbara (Deborah Harmon) arrives on the scene and both complicates and in a roundabout way later assists in keeping Rudy’s dealership from falling into Roy’s hands. It culminates in a legal battle over the number of cars Rudy claims to possess (a full mile of them) and if Roy wins the case, that will end the war of the con artists on the side of the guy who killed his own brother.

The set piece for how Rudy and Barbara plan to get those cars onto the lot in time to impress the judge( who is so, so eager to give out capital punishments) is pretty audacious and was a sign of how good Zemeckis was as a director who can coordinate a lot simultaneously and also foreshadows the high speed DeLorean antics of the Back to the Future trilogy.

Using hundreds of driving school students, a bunch of abandoned cars are fixed and made drivable( if nearly so) and are driven across the Arizona terrain to the dealership with the timer counting down before the judge comes to measure the length of all the cars. It leads to what is basically “Mad Max as a comedy”. It honestly resembles some of the bigger sequences from Fury Road though far less physically and technically taxing as a sequence.

Your mileage on the dark and bawdy comedy will vary, and I was often rotating between being impressed and disquieted, but it is ultimately an impressive early showing for Robert Zemeckis and friends, an indicator that there was indeed a bigwig in the making. It earns the reputation of being a once overlooked, now proper cult classic, rather than an embarrassing growing pain.

Dangerous Encounters of the First Kind (1980) (HK)

From director Tsui Hark, the man who would eventually give us, in my own words, the Chinese Evil Dead with A Chinese Ghost Story, comes a tale of a group of Hong Kong teens with a penchant for making nonlethal explosives who meet a mentally disturbed teenage girl. A girl who has a penchant for torturing animals. It is as offputting as it sounds but it is yet an arresting dark dramedy.

Those three teen boys, Paul, Lung and Ko are pranksters, performing harmless yet still disruptive gags across town. They meet that demented girl Wan-Chu after running from the scene of their latest prank. She’ll rat out the boys unless they play along with her own extreme series of pranks. All of this while having her brother Tan be part of the HKPD.

The new crazier series of pranks gets them wrapped up in organized crime and a conspiracy involving Caucasian gun runners. The situation is both comical and distressingly dark as it keeps on getting worse and worse and worse and the youthful recklessness of those same kids exacerbates matters that left me struggling between a groan and a laugh. It all culminates in a group of mob hitmen hunting down the kids at a mountainside cemetery with Tan being the only one with any chance of saving their hapless asses.

I was only able to find Dangerous Encounters on Youtube, for free but on copied over VHS quality, the same as when I watched Sweet Home for Halloween Horrorthon. It was intelligible enough but I really wished a better version of this film was available to watch as it really deserves to be seen crisply.

I don’t really know the full extent of Hong Kong politics, not as much as I maybe should, but Dangerous Encounters is seen as being a politically charged film, towards the contemporary politics of the British Protectorate in 1980. 17 years away is the giving away of the city state back to mainland China, noteworthy in that the U.K. actually honored the deal.

Of course, HK going back to mainland China eventually led to a slow disintegration of the metropolis’ democratic institutions, as evidenced by the many protests that have made international news in recent years. But how does that actually fit with this movie? At the end of the film, as the last surviving teen fires an assault rifle in the air out of frustration from what had transpired, photos of the 1967 Hong Kong riots scroll across the screen.

Those protests involved pro-CCP (Chinese Communist Party) advocates using deadly force, including bombs. It was reflective not so much of a yearning from the populace to have a Communist takeover occur, but an expression of frustration over the British government not governing well enough, which they themselves would later admit to.

Is Dangerous Encounters of the First Kind pro-Communist, in favor of the ultimately quelled pro-CCP protesters? I have no idea, and it wasn’t until the very end of the movie that any concrete mention of something related to that history was brought up.

In spite of what is or is not the intended political takeaways, Dangerous Encounters of the First Kind is best viewed as a darkly comic crime story with some pretty exceptional set pieces. The three that stand out are as follows.

The first is the girl taking control of a tourist bus, asking them all to strip to their underwear, ordering the driver on a merry chase for the cops. She keeps the driver and tourists in check with threat of setting off a DIY explosive. Not for any political or cultural statement. Because she can, because she’s bored. A dog chasing cars. The boys have the tools, she has the twisted imagination for them.

The second is an underground parking lot meeting that ends up being a run for dear life for the three boys as a seemingly unending number of mooks pour in trying to kill them, all set to this strangely soothing song that I first heard, funnily enough in the radio for Grand Theft Auto IV.

The third is the aforementioned cemetery finale, that is both literally and figuratively, quite gut-wrenching, and probably not for the reasons you might think, mostly.

Rarely has such a dark, ethically upsetting movie felt like an honest to god popcorn entertainment to me. Despite the unfortunate, occasionally obscuring VHS quality, I was having a really great time mostly due to the fact I really had no idea where it was going, what kind of comeuppance for our adolescent characters was or was not lying in wait on the horizon.

While it is quite easy to sympathize with the three boys as they never wanted to go as far as they did, and were all but blackmailed into it by the girl, you keep hoping she gets what’s coming to her, especially due to her being responsible for a grisly end to a poor stray cat. You’re also left wondering if her sane detective brother can make it out of the web of trouble she ends up creating alive.

Dangerous Encounters of the First Kind is not for everyone. I have a generally strong as steel skin for this kind of subject matter and am honestly drawn to stories that can be both morally grey yet entertaining, even better if you add a delicious spice of black humor to make its ironies in play sing to me. If you want a less perturbing Hong Kong experience from Tsui Hark, A Chinese Ghost Story is ready and waiting for you.

If you can find a version of the movie that is better than VHS, hit me up with where it’s at.

Breaker Morant (1980) (Australia)

Renowned Australian director Bruce Beresford (Crimes of the Heart, Driving Miss Daisy) swears up and down that the central, titular figure of his 1980 historical drama was in fact a bad dude. I believe him when he says that but I can understand why it might be hard to parse out the intended authorial intent here.

During the Second Boer War in the 1900s, fought in South Africa, Harry “Breaker” Morant (Edward Woodward) and two of his fellow Australian soldier pals are put on trial for committing war crimes. It is noteworthy for being possibly the first prosecution of war crimes in Britain’s very long military history. The three men are on trial for executing captured, defenseless Boer (Afrikaners, Dutch colonists in Africa) prisoners of war as well as a peaceful German pastor who was by all accounts completely not a threat to Morant’s regiment.

The excuse given is that one of Morant’s friends, Captain Simon Hunt, was killed by Boers during a skirmish at a farmhouse. Despite Hunt dying more or less within the rules of engagement, Morant and his two subordinates, Lt. Peter Handcock (Bryan Brown) and Lt. George Witton (Lewis Fitz-Gerald) are pissed off at his death and want some revenge. They claim they were in their rights to commit the war crime due to fighting against a guerilla army.

Due to how creepily effective guerilla warfare can be, more so on a psychological level, Morant believes more “extreme” methods are justifiable. He calls it rule “303”, named after the class of bullets their bolt action rifles use. Maybe something could be said of that rule against the Boers but does it really hold up when some poor German missionary also gets rule 303, under the weak auspices he could’ve been a Boer spy?

The film does draw attention to the idea that the British military had condoned this contemptible practice up to a point and only when it became politically convenient do they now rule it as the atrocity it always was. That being said, Morant and friends did go ahead and ,”ahem”, follow those orders. They are still meant to be held accountable for committing unjustifiable acts, even by the standards of their era.

These “stiff upper lip” gentlemen of the British empire, albeit Australian, let their emotions and paranoia get the better of them and they ultimately pay the price with their deaths or imprisonment. Morant and Handcock are executed ironically through firing squad at sunrise and Witton, due to having a less damning part to play in the crimes, is sent to a penal colony. Considering he’s Australian, that is quite ironic as well.

Fun history fact: In the sequence where Morant and Handcock walk to the two chairs on the bluff where they will meet their ends, they solemnly hold hands and keep holding them into they leave the mortal coil. The filmmakers had no idea while filming that the real Morant and Handcock did the exact same thing during their final moments. They thought it was an “addition” that would be suitably dramatic. What are the odds?

Of course, if justice was fully served in response to the deaths of those P.O.Ws and that German minister, the higher ups that had allowed “rule 303” up until that point would’ve have also been condemned and punished in the military tribunal. More firing squads or penal servitude would’ve been served up. Alas.

So, it can be said fairly that Morant, Handcock and Witton where both perpetrator and victim, not one or the other. No one should call them hero and yet the nature of the trial they went through and that Witton following his prison time wrote a book in sterling defense of Morant and Handcock created a modern Australian myth: that in truth the three men were tragic “heroes”, victims of the powers that be back on the English island.

It all but certainly is tied into Australian nationalist identity, one of the sparks that would in time lead to full-on independence from the British empire. The more understandable grievance that both Australia and New Zealand for that matter would use to support a peaceful separation from the Empire were the ghastly losses they suffered fighting in World War 1 a little over a decade after the Morant trial.

The tragic history of the Australian/New Zealander soldiers (ANZACs) were most noteworthy in the appalling battle of Gallipoli, as dramatized in another Australian film, Peter Weir’s Gallipoli, starring Mel Gibson. WW1 was full of lopsided bloodbaths, but Gallipoli stood out in its pure hopelessness and needless loss of men and supplies. It is one of the most recognized failures of Winston Churchill’s career. For more contemporary audiences, 2016’s Battlefield 1 presented Gallipoli as an insanely bloody fiasco. So severe was Gallipoli alone that both nations recognize the conflict that enabled their national consciousness with ANZAC day, April 25th every year.

So, yes, the people of Australia and New Zealand definitely had justifiable beef with the British Empire’s management of their Commonwealths. Thankfully, both stuck around to help out the U.K. during WW2. Hell, they may have still been Britain’s ally out of mutual necessity anyway.

That being said, the pseudo-history surrounding Breaker Morant is unfortunate. Beresford never intended for his movie to add to that mythology. He wanted to show that even affirmed war criminals can have moments of genuine humanity, that before the acts they committed they could be and were agreeable people, with those that loved them and that they loved back. If anything, it should make the criminal behavior they still committed be more disturbing.

If it could happen to Breaker and friends, it could happen to you. Worst of all, in the century that has passed since the Second Boer war, it has happened many, many times, let alone from my own country. Consider the war crimes committed by Americans in both Vietnam and the endless War on Terror. Think about those perpetrators and what good they had lived before those acts. Some might’ve or are sociopaths or psychopaths, not all were. Think about this if you decide serving your country militarily is for you.

Could you do better than Breaker Morant? Could I?

Shaan (with a little bit of Sholay) (1980) (India)

When it comes to bengalcritiques being a more comprehensive deep-dive into 80s’ cinema than most, I do try to mean it. When you think of 80s’ moviemaking, your thoughts are likely drawn mostly to what Hollywood was making at the time. Maybe some English language foreign films can also count, mostly from the U.K.

Well, I have been showcasing some non-American 1980s’ pictures, as is obvious from having just talked about a Hong Kong and Australian flick.

Well, Indian cinema definitely should factor into the equation and Bollywood alone has for damn certain pulled its weight in this decade and possibly every decade since they started making movies. Bollywood makes the most movies every year of any nation and that’s not counting the also lucrative Tollywood and Kollywood markets, which in more recent years have achieved better outside recognition. That being said, when you think of Indian movies, Bollywood is at the forefront of the average person’s understanding.

They are known for being long, full of musical numbers, many subplots to justify lengths that surpass 2 and a half hours or longer, as well as a curious mix of different genres all in one. A Bollywood action movie is rarely just an action movie. It can and likely will include comedy, romance, musicals and cultural/political commentary. Yes, non-Indian films are perfectly capable of mixing genres too, but Bollywood showcases its at times bewildering hybridization of subject matters and tone which likely helped lead to this side of World cinema having an international following.

Before I talk about the first of many, many, many, many Bollywood films to be featured down the road of Bengal’s 80s’ Retrospective, let’s talk about the 1975 landmark title that is arguably the film that patented what Bollywood films would be for decades to come, perhaps even unto present day: Sholay.

If you have already watched a more recent Bollywood movie, a movie that came out after Sholay, you may wonder what the big deal is. Well, a trend in moviemaking has to start somewhere. Sholay was and remains one of the most financially successful Bollywood productions of all time, and by extension might make it one of the most successful motion pictures ever made. The sheer size of India’s population makes a Bollywood success appear far more massive than most Hollywood success stories.

It is the tale of two charming Indian rogues, criminals with a heart of gold. While being taken to prison on a train, they assist the cop who has them in custody with fighting off bandits raiding the train. For their efforts, the cop lets them go, so long as they stay out of trouble, pinky promise.

The two go on a series of merry adventures, where their criminal behavior is more playful and mischievous than anything else, such as intentionally getting in prison so they can troll a Hitler-looking prison warden among other things. Eventually, the cop they helped asks them to come to his valley home: he needs their assistance with helping his home village fight off the notorious Gabbar Singh. Singh is a vicious bandit leader who not only wants tribute from the all but helpless village but loves to torment them as well.

Singh has become one of the most beloved villains in Bollywood cinema, as recognized and remembered as Darth Vader and Hannibal Lecter is to American viewers. He has specifically been parodied and referenced in many films made after Sholay. He certainly does more than a few truly heinous things to make me not forget him anytime soon.

The two far more heroic crooks come to the village’s aid, acting as armed guards and scouts, basically Seven Samurai minus five. They do take their absolute sweet time actually trying to fight Singh head on. Why? Well we have almost three hours to fill silly! We have lavish, elaborate musical numbers, budding romances and revelations on how much Singh has personally wronged the cop alone.

Because of the format insisting on a near three hour narrative structure, when the two good crooks do decide to finally stop Singh once and for all, it can feel abrupt and sudden, almost like the movie just realized, “Oh, crap, we got to wrap this up now! Get cracking!” That is a feeling that also registered in a later Bollywood film to be discussed, but not in Shaan.

Shaan is directed by Ramesh Sippy, the man behind Sholay and also stars two of its leads, the ones who played those lovable rogues. In Shaan, we once again initially follow a somewhat overweight but no less badass Indian Supercop, going toe to toe with the scum of Mumbai’s underworld (Bollywood is derived from Mumbai, or Bombay). He remains consistently disappointed that his two younger brothers, both con men, fail to live up to his own lawful standards.

Eventually, the eldest brother’s law-protecting actions makes him a target of Mumbai’s underworld boss and from that moment, he is doomed. Shaakal is the boss and he can be described less like the Kingpin from Marvel comics (despite also being bald) and more like he is a bonafide James Bond villain. I made him the header image for this section for a reason.

Remember how I said Bollywood films can have tonal whiplash almost as a feature of the style rather than a bug? Well, once Shaakal enters the picture, it becomes an Indian James Bond movie, minus all the sexy stuff that remains for the most part a big no-no to Indian cinematic custom. Even the act of romantic kissing is shooed away, as the next Bollywood film I will cover makes an outright joke about. However, the Bond villain, his supercool island lair, offing henchmen that fail him and loving the sound of his own voice, that is beautifully preserved for your enjoyment. Basically, you get to hear Blofeld in Hindu and I think you will like that a lot.

There is no specific James Bond character but instead a band of Indian heroes who decide to take the fight to Shaakal personally. The two con artist brothers and their quasi-girlfriends/love interests, and a remorseful agent of Shaakal come together to first infiltrate the villain’s operations and then confront him directly.

It’s a testament to the flexibility in translation of the Bond movie formula that even a sexual expression prohibitive culture like India can get a knack out of something from England’s most famous secret agent. Of course, the budget of Shaan is not really up to snuff with most if any Bond film, let alone at the time, but the attempt is heartfelt and the production value impressive still, all things considered.

When Shaakal’s base predictably starts blowing up like with the average Bond villain lair, starting all the way back with Dr. No, you might be genuinely surprised at how effective a copy it is of what can be gleaned from what was then nearly 20 years of 007 action.

If the Bond but Indian stuff isn’t enough, there is still plenty of impromptu musical numbers, songs that love repeating the same sentences over and over and of course, the amusing mix of comedic silliness and dramatic self-seriousness that is part of the exotic appeal of a Bollywood movie, even if the ingredients are commonly derived from something Western. Just a reminder of India’s extremely complicated history as being once part of the British Empire.

If you have the spare time for a full on Bollywood experience from decades past, I would probably suggest Sholay first as it is a landmark, trendsetting experience. I saw Shaan first, not realizing it was from the same people that made Sholay. Upon discovering that, I saw Sholay next with my dad before venturing to my next film, Bollywood or not.

Of the two, I actually enjoyed Shaan more, mostly due to the novelty of seeing a 007 film being given the Bollywood treatment at all and solidly. Shaakal alone is worth the price of rental though of course you will have to wait a while because Indian cinema likes them long. It might be a testament to the concept that maybe one of the Indian people’s cultural tenets is that of patience. Not that you will be bored before Bolly-Blofeld shows up.

Next time: A 2021 best of the year countdown and after that, TBD.

Originally posted 2021-12-30 01:46:12.

Over the past decade or so, Resident Evil has slowly become one of my favorite game series. Whether it’s trying to legitimately scare you or make you destroy supposedly scary things like a cinematic action hero, Resident Evil finds a way to satisfy me in multiple ways, even in manners that some fans would consider sacrilegious.

Take for example, that on this blog site I have an article dedicated to my apologetics over Resident Evil 6, the least horrifying and most action oriented main entry, often despised for that reason and that yes, there are some gameplay mechanics that aren’t as fully thought out or polished as they should be. I classified RE6 as a mastermess, not a masterpiece. But, my God, what a continuously fun and even more often than not mechanically intelligent mess it is.

I bring up Resident Evil 6, the fandom’s punching bag as the newest entry in the series, in truth the thirteenth not eighth installment in the pioneering franchise, has many echoes to the most divisive or hated period so far in the run. Resident Evils 4-6 is that contested or dismissed middle period though 4 continues to be unabashedly beloved for being, you know, one of the most influential and best video games ever made.

The “action” trilogy as I would call it saw a rising emphasis on players fighting and defeating the terrors that lied in their wake rather than thoughtfully avoiding and outlasting them. By RE6, clearing the area of enemies was the norm, which flies in the face of Resident Evil’s roots that barring some special unlockables that are earned through blood, sweat and tears on the player’s part, you will never kill every enemy in this kind of game. That was the original point. You’re doomed if you try.

More than any other game in the series except for 4, in which this entry deliberately echoes, Resident Evil 8: Village is the best game in regards to mixing a genuine horror atmosphere and the action packed feel discussed. RE8 contains one of, if not the scariest sequence I’ve ever experienced in the series while also having moments that would be right at home with RE5 and 6’s sensibilities, though the absurdity of those same games remains toned down.

A direct follow-up to Resident Evil 7: biohazard, the 2017 entry that brought the series back to its horror roots as well as for the first time into first person view, you continue the story of Ethan Winters as he tries to get over the grindhouse terror of that one insane night in the Louisiana bayou. RE8 cements Ethan’s status as the RE protagonist whose role above all is to suffer. Most will feel very sorry for Ethan’s life story by the time the credits roll.

Conceived as the “everyman” character who is thrust into events that would break almost anyone else, Ethan perseveres through pain, fear, fatigue and psychological trauma all because at the end of the day, he is a really good person. He just wants to have a quiet life with his wife Mia, a fellow survivor of RE7, and their infant daughter Rose.

He’s unlike most other survivor protagonists from REs past like Chris Redfield, his sister Claire, Jill and Leon, who in one form or another dedicate their lives to fighting the pharmaceutical monsters that plague their world. Once Ethan survived the first time, he was perfectly happy wanting to never bother with any of the frightful intrigue that has built up over the course of a series that just celebrated its 25th anniversary.

Ethan is often framed as being the most “relatable” of the protagonists of the series through a number of ways. Aside from his young everyman getup who initially had no combat experience, he often simply yet bluntly sums ups his experiences much the way the player would say it. Being a first person protagonist, his face is deliberately kept from view, often to hysterical measures. Ignoring that Ethan’s facial appearance was already datamined from RE7 so we already know what he looks like to begin with….

Well, in RE8’s case, the game goes out of its way to hide a face that is already known. In the opening section taking place in Ethan and Mia’s new home curiously located in Romania, all the mirrors in the house that should show his mug are covered up, for no explainable reason.

The game has cinematic cutscenes, so when Ethan appears in the third person, his face is kept offscreen in a way that is as technically impressive as it is humorously distracting. This becomes funnier considering how emotionally heavy the conclusion of Resident Evil 8 is otherwise. Even the character model viewer that is unlocked upon beating the game insists on covering the poor guy’s kisser in shadow.

I get it on some level: Capcom wants to make Ethan an avatar for the average player, making you and me feel as if we are Ethan Winters. The same reason is given for Gordon Freeman, the beloved mute protagonist of the Half-Life series. Of course, fans of the series now overwhelmingly associate Gordon’s appearence off the promotional material as a brown haired and goateed bespectacled man with an appropriately determined expression.

When I play Half-Life, I don’t think of myself as being Gordon Freeman, I think I’m controlling an individual independent from myself. I am given authorial control over how I think Gordon may be processing the many crazy, bewildering things he encounters on his adventures, but otherwise I don’t think of Half-Life as being my story over Gordon’s in the same way I would imbue Commander Shepard’s. Even then, in Mass Effect’s case, there’s plenty to my Commander Shepard that is and will never be me.

In one department, Ethan is already unlike me: he’s a family man and I, as of now at 28 years old, am not. With the bleak way the world is turning nowadays, I would find it exceptionally cruel and selfish to bring a child of mine into the world. That diatribe aside, Ethan’s commendable fatherly commitment to being the best dad ever is not something I can wholly relate to because I’m not a dad, much like how I’m not nor ever will be a theoretical physicist like Dr. Freeman.

Of course, it doesn’t entirely matter that Capcom’s ham-fisted but conceptually well meaning attempt at player-character synthesis is more awkward than not. What I want in a Resident Evil game and a little bit more is here and that was what I wanted to begin with.

Events transpire to place Ethan back in the world of survival horror no matter how badly he wished he could avoid it. He’s taken measures to protect himself and his family. He volunteered for combat training with none other than series legend Chris Redfield, who escorted him and wife Mia off the plantation setting of RE7 to safety.

He keeps a book around the house about gun and close quarters combat so he can stay honed in case worse comes to pass (which of course it does). He stays in contact with Chris due to him being part of a now seemingly reformed Umbrella Corporation which has become a PMC explicitly to fight bio-organic weapons, a catch-all term for the creatures which are RE’s gallery of enemies. Umbrella was the original antagonist of the Resident Evil series which created the viruses that make the monsters like the iconic zombies.

One night in their new spacious home in Romania, which strangely reminds me of Nathan Drake and Elena’s home from Uncharted 4, gun-shots pierce through the windows during dinner and hit Mia straight on. Ethan can only duck in stunned silence as a new nightmare begins by the very people he thought would protect him, Mia and baby daughter Rose. Chris, now appearing like his normal bulky self again after the despised redesign for RE7, comes in personally and fires several shots right in Mia’s head. Has the hero become the villain, as Aaron Eckhart warned us about all those years ago?

Ethan is dragged out of his house by Chris and his men and little Rose is taken out of her crib as well. Like in the beginning of Ethan’s first journey of survival, he is filled with questions. The one question that is never answered is why Chris would relocate the Winters’ not just to Romania of all places, but within proximity of the titular spooky village, which has managed to avoid outside discovery for a century as we learn. That’s one insane contrivance you are going to learn to accept, as RE8 is generally willing to clear away just about every other question you will have, including some you didn’t even think to ask in the first place.

Ethan eventually ends up separated from Chris and his team and finds himself entering at daybreak the village, with a beautiful Castlevania-like castle in the background. Very soon, like with the Baker plantation from last time, Ethan finds that everything is not fine whatsoever in this hamlet that seems for the most part trapped in the past.

It’s here where the many, many callbacks to one particular entry in the series make their start: for Resident Evil 4. Capcom was transparent about RE8 being inspired by that landmark entry and wanted to not just place players back in an ominous European village trapped in time but to also see it happen in first person and with some changes that are just different enough that it won’t feel like Village is just copying what came before.

It’s allusions to past glories are obvious, but never lazy, feeling like an earned self-congratulation that lands more than not. The opening moment of Ethan exploring the village eventually culminates in confronting one of the two base enemies of RE VIII: Lycans or if you want to be more to the point werewolves.

Fear not, it’s not supernatural, there’s no need when mad Lovecraftian science can take it’s place as explanation anyway. Like with Leon’s iconic arrival in the Spanish village in 4 where once the villagers spot him, all hell breaks loose, soon both the player and Ethan are frantically scrambling to find some modicum of safety as the village’s “residents” start descending upon you.

Leon’s frightening fight against overwhelming numbers in 4 was further punctuated by the arrival of Dr. Salvador, the chainsaw wielding foe that would kill you in one hit if he got close enough to you. The shock of that happening on top of all the other villagers trying to gut you made 4’s opening one of the most remembered opening hours in any game ever made, not to mention one hell of a tone setter.

With Ethan, it takes the player either attacking the werewolves prowling around the village or entering a certain house for the gauntlet to be thrown down. While the novelty is clearly not here, being a homage to 4’s beginning, the insane pressure and momentum, now viewed from the character’s eyes rather than over the shoulder, has been maintained. What makes it a still great opening salvo for Ethan’s time in the village is most apparent the first time playing: what to do?

Where does Ethan and the player go? What items can they grab before risking getting mauled, how long can they hold out, where should they hold out? Like the chainsaw enemy of 4, eventually a giant hammer wielding opponent jumps into the arena out of the blue making matters even worse. Unlike the chainsaw man, Urias the hammer wielding giant won’t kill you in one blow, unless you’re on the truly punishing highest difficulty of “Village of Shadows”, but would you be surprised that getting hurt by him is worse than by a Lycan?

Like with RE4, the endless parade of enemies coming at you ends with a cutscene, some force commanding the horde is compelled to leave you alone right at the darkest moment. As Ethan gets his bearings, I couldn’t help but mutter to myself Leon’s corny response to that situation in his game ,”Where’s everyone going, bingo?”

Very soon does RE8 distinguish itself as being more than just RE4 in first person. It maintains most of the elements that are familiar to the classic formula: puzzles to solve, open-ended areas to explore, item management and so forth.

The village is a nexus for four distinct locations with their own regional boss for Ethan to fight and overcome in his efforts to rescue his daughter Rose who he learns is soon in the main villain’s hands, not Chris’. Led by the enigmatic Mother Miranda who takes on the appearance of a witch with raven like features, she has four lords under her thrall and all representing a cornerstone of gothic horror, which is RE8’s visual aesthetic. The most famous, due to her pre-release attention that took on absurd amounts of fandom, is Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, a 9 foot tall monster of a woman who runs the castle overlooking the village.

It’s kind of a shame that the most iconic of the secondary villains in RE8 is the first up to bat for Ethan to confront. While Capcom had its narrative reasons and also knew players would want to experience her and her castle’s intrigue as soon as possible, it also means that you will after a point have to leave behind one of the most thematically and visually striking locations in the game for good. After Lady D is defeated, there is no return for any reason to the macabre yet beautiful castle she walks the halls of. Again, the game is called Resident Evil: Village, not Castle, and there’s much more to see afterwards, but I make my point.

The castle’s internal appearence is meant to both recall the castellan from RE4 as well as the various mansion like locations that have graced the series since the original. It doesn’t take long for Castle Dimitrescu to forge a visual identity that is distinct enough and give off a history that is as grim as it is sad.

One thing to note about all four of the Lords under Miranda’s command is that there are varying degrees of pitiability to all of them, maybe even Miranda as well. Like how RE7 slowly reveals that the grotesque Baker family that hunts you were originally a warm-hearted group of people (save one) that were tragically victims of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the Lords all have aspects that will make you feel something other than fright or revulsion.

Lady Dimitrescu is the least pitiable as are her three daughters. They are based off the vampire archetype. They drink blood to replenish themselves as well as ensure their practical immortality. Being bit by them does not make you a vampire because in truth they are inspired by vampires but aren’t literally ones. Again, it’s that insane medical science that exists in Resident Evil’s world.

Like vampires, they like big castles to roam around, the daughters dislike direct sunlight and they take on the aristocratic attributes seen in a lot of vampire popular culture. It is that elitist mindset, that they are entitled to prey and feast on poor Ethan that makes them least sympathetic. Instead, when Ethan confronts Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters one by one while searching for his daughter and a way out, I felt sorry that they could not recognize why other people like Ethan wouldn’t like being prey and are increasingly frustrated at his refusal to curl up and accept death.

It’s also clear that for all their mutual depravity, the mistress of the castle dearly loves her daughters and they in turn love her back. This “resident evil” I dare call it are not evil towards each other in the end.

It is also at the castle that we meet the Duke, a clear successor to the mysterious yet popular merchant of Resident Evil 4. The RE4 Merchant is one of the most entertaining mysteries in the franchise, a mystery that no one in particular actually wants to know the truth about. In Leon’s game from years past, the Merchant pops up out of nowhere, all too happy to assist our hunky hero in his quest to rescue the President’s daughter, for a price of course.

Despite his grim, almost enemy like appearence, the Merchant is never a threat to Leon. You can even shoot him dead and he will show up at a later point in the game, no worse for wear and unconcerned you shot him. What the Merchant mechanically brought to RE4 was so excellent and was such a fun fellow to listen to you with his strange Cockney like accent, that no one was bothered by how out of place he narratively was.

The Duke serves the same function but is actually integral to the plot, assisting Ethan in not just procuring items for him to buy but gives information on where to exactly go to save his daughter Rose. He reminds me somewhat of Vergil from Dante’s Inferno, a guide with some enigmatic qualities.

The Duke also makes Ethan food for free to improve his statistics and health, defense and accuracy, so long as Ethan brings the right ingredients through hunting wildlife throughout the game.

The Duke is not just callback to another facet of Resident Evil 4, he is an expansion of the overall idea and one of the best realized ones. I wouldn’t mind if the Duke returned in a future title, whether that be Resident Evil 9 or not.

After the journey up, down and below Castle Dimitrescu and one Bloodborne-looking final battle with the not so fair-Lady, Ethan’s next location to visit is House Beneviento, home to Donna Beneviento and her creepy as hell collection of dolls. In-between the regions Ethan must visit, the Village itself becomes more and more accessible, mostly to explore for treasures which when sold give you much needed Lei (Romanian currency like with RE4’s Spanish setting having pesetas) to upgrade weapons and buy ammo and equipment.

Once Ethan unlocks the gate taking him to House Beneviento, he and the player then enter what is in my opinion one of Resident Evil’s most terrifying sequences.

When most talk about RE8’s highs and lows, many consider House Beneviento or “the Doll House” to be the highlight of the game, wisely undermarketed to make its presence in the game more striking for the unspoiled player. Many lament that nothing before or after this House near a waterfall has anything close to the sheer rising dread and horrifying release of anticipation waiting for you there. I have rarely found any one Resident Evil to have any one moment that scared me like what I saw and heard in that house.

I feel it best that I spoil the least about this section of the game. What I have already said may be too much. To put it another way, the Resident Evil series has finally captured the same fear experienced in the early Silent Hill games, namely Silent Hill 2. It’s a segment that both torments Ethan and the player as well as make them truly vulnerable. I will say nothing more and simply warn that you are making things harder on yourself if you play this section for the first time with headphones on and the light turned off like I did. Or you’re doing yourself one hell of a favor.

As I espoused earlier, there is a sad sympathy to the Four Lords and Donna Beneviento might be the most sympathetic. Due to having considerable mental illness in combination with the powers she is given by Mother Miranda through the “mold” that is the scientific plot device for both RE7 and 8, she is possibly not fully aware of the awful things she does.

It left quite an impression on me that the Lord that spooked me best is also the one that I would feel most sorry for. Supposedly, it should be the other way around. Not here. Before I tempt fate and keep talking about her and her section and really ruin it for you, let’s move on to the third, least frightening Lord: poor Salvatore Moreau.

While Donna is said to be inspired by ghost stories, Moreau based on his name is inspired by the titular antagonist for The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G. Wells. I don’t know if anyone would call that classic tale “gothic” but like Frankenstein, it’s about scientific pursuit involving life going so wrong.

Moreau isn’t just pitiable, he’s just pathetic. A hunchbacked figure of limited intelligence save for one grotesque specialty, Moreau is disliked by basically everyone. Ethan doesn’t like him, the other Lords don’t care for him and most importantly, Mother Miranda disregards him. Out of all the Lords, Moreau wants most to be loved by her. He is most keen to make her happy in stopping Ethan.

Moreau’s section involving a series of mines followed by a sunken village with windmills is often called the weakest portion of the game. It’s by no means bad and does involve some clever puzzles and a fun callback to RE4’s own lake section involving one giant fish that wants to make you supper.

The mild derision for this sequence likely stems from it coming right after the best moment of the game in the Doll House. Many would hope that what RE8 is serving up for you next would be just as harrowing if not more. It’s not, though if you have a real fear of dangers which lurk under the water, it might be a bit more effective. Here, it’s simply fun and much of the intrigue here comes from Ethan facing a dangerous entity that is so miserable and lonely.

The boss fight with Moreau does have a clever twist to it but it’s otherwise straightforward. Ultimately, considering the framing of Moreau being the bad guy who sucks, maybe this section in practice is quite intentional in being a letdown compared to Lady Dimitrescu and Donna Beneviento.

The fourth and final lord is Heisenberg, directly inspired by Frankenstein and with motivations that are not entirely beyond player disagreement. In terms of vocal performance, Heisenberg is probably my favorite character. He takes the series’ penchant for having hammy, self-indulgent villains and almost acts as a self-aware parody of that convention, which in turn might be the slyest callback to RE4 yet.

Resident Evil 4, for all of its genuine and successful attempts at horror, was seen as the first game to have a tongue-in-cheek attitude about itself and the series’ own struggle to maintain tonal consistency. Heisenberg is deadly serious about his intentions, but he tries to make a game of his actions more than anyone else in RE8.

As the page header infers, Heisenberg’s voice and temperament reminds me of Hunter S. Thompson or Thompson’s avatar Raoul Duke from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I’m not the first to make the comparison and it might not have been intentional on Capcom’s part, possibly something that his voice actor Neil Newbon thought would be cool to try out for what on the outside seems to be the most normal of Miranda’s subjects.

Despite me loving Heisenberg, he is still a figure meant to have some amount of player dislike and it comes from how short-sided and egotistical the character is. He and Ethan both have a common goal in truth and had he not been so solipsistic, he might have made RE8 a much less harrowing adventure for both involved.

Heisenberg’s location, a factory, is where Resident Evil Village’s higher emphasis on combat compared to 7 comes into focus. This has left mixed feelings for those in the playerbase not wanting the series to return to an overly action based experience. The escalation from horror to action has been a long-standing issue since jump.

Even in the original glory days for the series on the original PlayStation, there was an escalating focus on action. Though all beloved by fans, the increase in explosive set-pieces overtime made the divisive middle period of 4-6 all but inevitable. After the return to horror with Ethan’s first game with RE7, was it also inevitable that action as a core tenet would return?

RE8, like RE4, does manage to mostly toe the line between the two seemingly at-odds sentiments of the series. There is a section following Heisenberg’s factory which was widely condemned for being a descent into straight up action, a moment of criticism that hopefully has not gone beyond Capcom’s notice in the development of RE9 and anything else on the table.

What makes Heisenberg’s Factory work despite the increased focus on fighting enemies and defeating them is the style of the place. It is a darkly lit, grimy industrial hell where a bunch of modified zombie like enemies attack you with grafted on drills, hammers and knives. I’m not even kidding when I say you are basically playing Resident Evil’s own version of Wolfenstein, namely the modern titles made by MachineGames. That Heisenberg calls his minions “Soldats”, just like the Nazis BJ Blazcowicz lays waste to almost makes me think that unlike the Thompson reference, this might’ve been intentional.

Like RE4, if you’re going to up the action tempo, make it at least awesome, and here it certainly is. There’s even a couple of moments that I did fine genuinely creepy in regards to Ethan’s confrontation with the full metal army.

But once again, perhaps as prelude to the denounced “straight up action” sequence coming right after, the final fight with Heisenberg, while fun and epic, does begin to beggar belief in relation to the relative groundedness of the rest of RE8 up until that point. Perhaps as almost self-confession, there is a cheeky reference to one of the series’ most ludicrous and mocked moments, a certain moment from Resident Evil 5 involving a boulder. The bout with Heisenberg is not nearly as stupid as the moment mentioned, but it’s worth pointing out.

I’ve made a point out of detailing the general progression of RE8 on a structural level. While I’ve tried to omit details for the most part, the section by section breakdown is why I felt the need to mention spoilers in the title at all. That the game has been out since this May and has sold a pretty penny already, I felt comfortable with the format I went with here.

Now for something unrelated to Resident Evil 8. Or maybe not.

There was general confusion that following the underwhelming remake of Resident Evil 3, the next game Capcom would choose to reimagine wouldn’t be the next and possibly last old title in need of some kind of facelift: Code Veronica, originally released as a Sega Dreamcast exclusive in 2000.

It made sense on a number of levels. Due to Resident Evil 2’s wildly successful and excellent remake, players new and old would want to see the next chapter in RE2 protagonist Claire’s story, which is Code Veronica. For some, CV was the actual Resident Evil 3, and narratively it is actually one of the most important in the franchise, for how much that’s worth.

Aside from getting to see a new spanking game with the Claire Redfield brought to life in face and voice by Stephanie Panisello, we would get to have a new Resident Evil game with a younger Chris Redfield, Claire’s brother, who appears in RE8 nearly 50 years old, not that it’s easy to tell.

Due to to its initial exclusivity on the Dreamcast, a well loved console that ultimately died in the console wars facing the PlayStation 2, original Xbox and Nintendo Gamecube, Code Veronica is one of the more underexposed main entries in the franchise. It did receive an HD remaster for the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3, but that was not quite the same as the remake treatment for the first three games.

I recently for the first time played Code Veronica. It’s overall a great entry but with some hurdles that are deserving of being addressed. It is perhaps one of the most punishing titles in difficulty due to there being certain windows of opportunity that if missed, make the third act of the game either extremely hard if not impossible to complete. Only in hindsight or by looking up a guide did I realize I had missed several things that would make the rest of Code Veronica if not easy, much more tolerable an experience.

If that wasn’t enough, a Remake of Code Veronica could involve genuine improvements in narrative ways, such as making side character Steve Burnside, one of the most gratingly annoying figures I’ve ever had to put up with in a video game, into at least someone that I didn’t want to freeze into carbonite like I would Jar-Jar.

There’s also the Ashford twins, the creepy, blond-haired, incestous aristocrats whose family are one of the co-founders of Umbrella. There is something quite disturbing in how the Ashford siblings can be executed in a remake. Their sociopathic indifference to anyone below their station, their obsessive mad love for one another and them being so, so eugenics happy.

How the original game did the Ashford Twins leaves much to be desired, often suggesting the possibility of something better and more frightening than what we get. The awful, shrill performances of the Ashfords in combination with a plot twist involving the brother’s obsession that would 100% not fly if made today means that this is an otherwise respected RE title that could have definite room to be improved.

Why am I putting so much focus on a game not called Resident Evil Village all of a sudden? Because one of the confirmed upcoming titles for the series other than Resident Evil 9 is the remake for Resident Evil 4. After playing through RE8 multiple times and having seen the many, many re-releases for RE4 through the years, including the very attractive VR edition for the Oculus Quest, I don’t think there’s any real need for it.

In comparison to any of the Resident Evils before it, Resident Evil 4 does not need any real update. It is still very playable and for the most part more user-friendly than any of its predecessors. It set a new template for over the shoulder, third person experiences in gaming across the board. The one area where RE4 could receive a meaningful update would be to completely overhaul the look of the game in the RE engine that fuels the contemporary entries starting with 7. There are many who might be curious to see the voice actor for RE2 Remake’s Leon perform the character in this project, but is that really enough to justify?

There is also the curiosity of how RE4 would be reimagined too, but play RE8 and you already get much of that. I’ve made a point to make note of the many callbacks to RE4 in Village and it makes the case that a spiritual successor should instead take the place of that Remake. Instead, Capcom would take its resources and bring back to life an old installment that could stand to have not just a facelift but a proper updating in Code Veronica.

Me calling Resident Evil VIIIage a spiritual successor to Resident Evil 4 sure sounds like a ringing endorsement of the game and that’s only because it is. While I wouldn’t call RE8 as good a game as RE4, you can call it a game that takes tenets of the installment that brought the series down the rabbit hole of action over horror and give it more of the classic Resident Evil formula.

Resident Evil Village delivers more of the potential of what RE7 established in bringing the series into first person, it also suggests real shakeups in the overall narrative that are as intriguing as they are full of mechanical possibility.

It’s a callback to an older glory while suggesting something promising in the present tense, a repackaging that does not give off a feeling of lack of imagination.

Resident Evil 8: Village is a barometer for what exactly is being sought after by the playerbase and the developers of these games. I can’t quite tell you what Resident Evil 9 will be. But I can tell you that it will be something to experience, even if it turns out a failure.

Originally posted 2021-11-22 02:56:25.